-/ 


. 


. 


'  - 


.  •  .  -" 

Hi 


BY 


.'•v  iv« 


;i 


Wf  / 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA 


BY 


SEA    AND    LAND 


WITH 


BIOGRAPHIES  OF  NAVAL  AND  MILITARY  COMMANDERS. 


VOLUME  I. 

COLONIAL  AND  REVOLUTIONARY. 


BY  ROBERT  TOMES,  M.  D. 


ILLUSTRATED  WITH  NUMEROUS  STEEL  ENGRAVINGS, 


NEW  YORK 
JAMES    S.    VIRTUE 

12    DEY    STEEET. 


COPYRIGHT,  1878,  BY  ROBERT  TOMES. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS, 

VOL.  I. 

COLONIAL  AND  REVOLUTIONARY. 


PAGE. 

BATTLE    OF    BUNKER'S   HILL           -  Frontispiece. 

WASHINGTON  AT  VALLEY  FORGE  Vignette  Title. 

THE   SIEGE    OF    LOUISBURG  2° 

FALL    OF     BRADDOCK         -  7§ 

WASHINGTON     RAISING    THE   BRITISH    FLAG    AT    FORT    DU  QUESNE  Io6 

WOLFE'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  PITT,  BEFORE  HIS  DEPARTURE  FOR  CANADA         -                          108 

THE  STRUGGLE  ON  CONCORD  BRIDGE  145 

SPAULDING    MONUMENT,    FOREST    HILL   CEMETERY,    BUFFALO  -           I?! 

GENERAL    HOWE    EVACUATING    BOSTON                                      -  251 

INTERVIEW    OF    HOWE*S   MESSENGER    WITH    WASHINGTON  -          310 

LORD    STIRLING    AT    THE    BATTLE    OF    LONG    ISLAND        -  328 

BATTLE    OF    HARLEM         -  '                                    354 

WASHINGTON    CROSSING    THE    DELAWARE       -  ~                42^ 

BATTLE    OF    PRINCETON  "          435 

GENERAL    STARK    AT    BENNINGTON        -  522 

LAFAYETTE    WOUNDED  "          534 

SURRENDER    OF    BURGOYNE  573 

MOLL    PITCHER          -                                                                                                     "  "41 

INDIAN    MASSACRE    AT    WILKESBARRE,    (VALLEY    OF    WYOMING)  -                                                                       654 

LAST    MOMENTS   OF    MAJOR    ANDRE  "            '          787 

DEATH   OF    FERGUSON,    AT    KING'S   MOUNTAIN  800 


INTRODUCTION. 


To  the  general  reader  history  would  be  uninteresting  were  it  not  for  its 
battle  scenes.  Take  the  battle  scenes  out  of  the  famous  histories  which  have 
come  down  to  us  from  Ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  and  what  would  be  left  of 
them  ?  It  is  the  battle  pictures  which  give  life  to  the  pages  of  Xenophon  and 
Thucydides,  of  Livy  and  Tacitus  ;  and  the  modern  historians  have  found  it  as 
much  a  pleasure  as  a  necessity  to  dwell  upon  these  scenes  in  which  nations  are 
seen  struggling  against  some  fierce  internal  enemy,  or  measuring  their  strength 
with  a  powerful  foreign  foe.  What  more  readable  book  than  Napier's  History 
of  the  Peninsular  War  ?  Gibbon  is  nevermore  brilliant  than  when  he  lingers 
over  a  battle  scene.  And  who  would  read  through  the  bulky  volumes  of  Alison 
and  Thiers  were  it  not  for  the  wars  of  the  Great  Napoleon,  which  occupy  the 
chief  portions  of  the  narrative. 

It  is  the  object  of  the  author  to  present  in  detail  in  the  following  pages,  the 
great  battles  which  have  been  associated  with  the  rise  and  progress  of  America  ; 
and  it  is  his  confident  belief  that  the  work  will  commend  itself  to  all  who  take 
any  interest  in  the  welfare  and  prosperity  of  the  Great  Republic. 

History  seems  to  teach  that  conflict  and  progress  are  convertible  terms  ; 
and,  indeed,  no  Nation  has  ever  risen  to  eminence  that  has  not  passed  through  a 
succession  of  conflicts,  either  within  itself,  or  in  defensive  war  against  the 
encroachments  of  powerful  neighbors.  To  mark  the  course  of  these,  and  to 
observe  how  victory  almost  always  has  finally  remained  with  a  people  true  to 
themselves  and  firmly  united  against  the  aggressor,  however  powerful,  is  a  source 
of  unmingled  satisfaction  to  every  friend  of  man  ;  and,  indeed,  nothing  can  more 
excite  the  sympathy  of  the  right-minded  than  to  follow  in  history  the  fortunes  of 
a  heroic  people,  struggling  for  the  preservation  of  independence  and  liberty 
against  overwhelming  forces,  and  finally  throwing  off  the  oppressor  by  force  of. 
heroism  and  superior  capacity  for  self-sacrifice  and  perseverance. 

Such  a  series  of  conflicts  America  has  passed  through  ;  and  it  is  pro 
posed  in  this  work  to  give  a  compendious  account  of  the  struggles  and  heroic 
conflicts  by  which  it  has  risen  from  the  condition  of  a  few  feeble  and  scattered 


r*" 


INTRODUCTION. 


colonies  to  a  position  among  the  first,  if  not  the  very  first,  of  the  great  Nations 
of  the  modern  world,  and  to  indicate  therefrom  something  of  the  future  grandeur 
that  awaits  them. 

It  will  adopt  tl^e  order  of  time,  and  begin  with  the  colonial  struggle  with  the 
French,  in  the  course  of  which  occurred  the  capture  and  siege  of  Louisbourg, 
accomplished  mainly  by  the  daring  and  energy  of  the  men  of  New  England ;  the 
disastrous  defeat  and  death  of  General  Braddock,  memorable  as  the  scene  of 
Washington's  early  distinction,  the  loss  of  Fort  William  Henry,  the  capture  of 
Fort  Du  Quesne,  the  battle  on  the  Heights  of  Abraham,  the  death  of  Wolfe  and 
Montcalm,  and  the  capture  of  Quebec. 

It  will  then  take  up  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  omit  no  conflict  of  those 
days  which  tried  men's  souls.  From  the  battle  of  Lexington  to  the  surrender  at 
Yorktown,  every  contest  will  be  described :  the  struggle  on  Concord  Bridge,  the 
capture  of  Ticonderoga  by  Ethan  Allen  and  the  "Green  Mountain  Boys,"  the 
battle  of  Bunker's  Hill,  in  which  the  provincials  first  discovered  that  they  were 
a  match  for  British  regulars,  the  surrender  of  Montreal  and  the  unsuccessful 
siege  of  Quebec,  the  capture  of  Johnstown  by  Schuyler,  the  defeat  of  Lord 
Dunmorc  in  Virginia,  the  British  evacuation  of  Boston,  the  defence  of  Charles 
ton  and  Fort  Sullivan  by  General  Moultrie,  the  battle  of  Long  Island,  the 
evacuation  of  New  York  by  the  Patriot  forces,  the  battles  of  Harlem  and  White 
Plains,  the  siege  and  capture  of  Fort  Washington  by  the  British,  the  naval 
engagement  on  Lake  Champlain,  the  battles  of  Trenton  and  Princeton,  the  fall  of 
Ticonderoga  and  the  battle  of  Hubbardtown,  the  battle  at  Fort  Stanwix  and  the 
death  of  Herkimer,  the  battles  of  Bennington  and  the  Brandywine  and  Bemis's 
Heights,  followed  by  the  surrender  of  Burgoj'iie,  the  battles  of  Gcrmantown 
and  Monmouth,  the  massacre  at  Wyoming,  the  defence  of  Charleston,  the  capture 
of  Vincennes.  the  storming  of  Stony  Point,  the  exploits  of  Paul  Jones,  and  the 
desperate  fight  between  the  Bon  Homme  Richard  and  the  Serapis,  the  disastrous 
assault  on  Savannah  under  D'Estaing  and  Lincoln,  the  fall  of  Charleston,  the 
battles  of  Camclen,  King's  Mountain,  the  Cowpens,  Guilford  Court  House, 
Hobkirk's  Hill  and  Eutaw  Springs,  the  siege  of  Yorktown  and  the  surrender  of 
Cornwallis,  with  all  the  minor  incidents  and  exploits  that  contributed  to  make 
the  war  memorable,  and  the  States  independent. 

Then,  also  in  the  order  of  time,  will  come  the  battles  of  the  War  of  1812, 
brought  about  by  arbitrary  French  decrees  and  the  British  orders  in  council, 
together  with  the  right  of  search  claimed  by  British  cruisers.  After  sketching 
the  affairs  of  the  Leopard  and  the  Chesapeake,  and  the  President  and  Little  Belt, 
and  Harrison's  victory  at  Tippecanoe— events  that  immediately  preceded  and 
hastened  the  outbreak  of  actual  hostilities — will  be  narrated  the  long  series  of 
triumphs,  with  a  few  reverses,  of  the  American  Navy,  so  gratifying  at  home,  and 


INTRODUCTION.  Ill 


producing  such  astonishment  in  Europe,  among  which  may  be  named  as 
deserving  the  reader's  special  attention,  the  memorable  chase  of  the  frigate 
Constitution  by  a  British  squadron,  the  battles  between  the  Alert  and  the  Essex, 
the  Guerriere  and  the  Constitution,  the  daring  exploits  of  Decatur  at  Tripoli, 
and  the  capture  of  the  Macedonia,  the  battles  between  the  Frolic  and  the  Wasp, 
the  Constitution  and  the  Java,  the  Hornet  and  the  Peacock,  the  Chesapeake  and 
the  Shannon,  the  Pelican  and  the  Argus,  the  Enterprise  and  the  Boxer,  the 
Essex  and  the  Pho3be,  off  Valparaiso,  the  battles  of  Lakes  Erie  and  Champlain, 
and  other  less  memorable  sea  fights,  in  which  American  courage  and  daring  were 
conspicuous. 

Turning  to  military  operations,  it  will  be  seen  that  though  at  first  these  were 
less  fortunate,  there  were  not  wanting  displays  of  daring  and  energy,  worthy  of 
more  brilliant  success.  It  will  be  necessary  to  tell  of  the  shameful  surrender  of 
General  Hull  at  Detroit,  and  of  the  massacre  of  Captain  Heald's  command  at 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  and  subsequently  of  the  surrender  of  Winchester  and 
the  massacres  at  the  Eiver  Eaisin  and  Fort  Mines.  Less  painful  will  be  the  task 
of  the  historian  in  narrating  Taylor's  gallant  defence  of  Fort  Harrison,  the  battle 
of  Queenstown  and  the  defence  of  Fort  Niagara,  and  of  Fort  Stephenson  by 
Croghan,  the  siege  of  Fort  Meigs  and  the  capture  of  York  (now  the  large  and 
nourishing  City  of  Toronto)  and  Fort  George,  the  battle  of  Sackett's  Harbor,  the 
battle  of  the  Thames  and  death  of  Tecumseh,  the  battles  of  Chippewa,  Lundy's 
Lane,  Bladensburg,  Baltimore,  and  New  Orleans — one  of  the  memorable  battles 
of  the  world. 

In  the  War  with  Mexico  the  Nation  will  be  exhibited  no  longer  contending 
with  the  superior  forces  of  an  aggressive  European  Power,  but  taking  the 
offensive  to  secure  the  independence  of  Texas,  threatened  by  the  persistent 
claims  of  the  Mexicans.  In  the  account  of  this  war  the  historian  has  little  more 
to  do  than  to  recount  a  succession  of  victories.  The  superiority  of  the  American 
troops,  in  everything  but  numbers,  soon  made  it  evident  that  there  could  be  only 
one  conclusion  to  a  contest  between  Anglo-Saxon  and  Mexican.  Beginning  with 
the  disaster  to  Colonel  Thornton's  command,  then  will  follow  the  world-renowned 
battles  of  Palo- Alto  and  Kesaca-de-la-Palma,  of  the  gallant  defence  of  Fort 
Brown,  of  the  battles  of  Monterey  and  Buena  Vista,  El  Paso  and  Sacramento, 
the  siege  and  capture  of  Vera  Cruz,  the  battles  of  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras  and 
El  Molino  del  Rey,  the  capture  of  Chapultepec,  and  the  surrender  and  occupation 
of  the  City  of  Mexico — the  crowning  triumph  of  the  war. 

In  the  Four  Years'  War  into  which  the  Nation  was  permitted  to  fall,  will  be 
narrated  a  series  of  battles  of  a  magnitude  with  few  parallels  in  modern  times, 
as  might  be  expected  when  men  of  the  same  race  and  country  were  arrayed 
against  each  other  in  vast  armies  of  equal  numbers,  and  commanded  by  officers 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 


of  similar  experience  and  training,  and  whose  operations  extended  through 
every  Southern  State,  there  will  be  seen  no  longer,  as  in  Mexico,  a  rapid 
succession  of  victories,  but  a  series  of  persistent  and  terrific  struggles,  of  which 
the  termination  might  well  seem  doubtful  to  European  observers.  From  the  first 
gun  fired  on  Fort  Sumter,  whose  echoes  rang  throughout  the  world,  to  the  final 
surrender  of  General  Lee,  occurred  a  vast  multitude  of  actions  and  operations,  on 
land  and  sea,  of  which  only  a  few  of  the  more  prominent  can  be  named  here.  It 
will  be  the  duty  of  the  historian  to  describe  the  battles  of  Booneville,  Rich 
Mountain  and  Carrack's  Ford,  the  disastrous  defeat  of  Bull  Run,  the  battle  of 
Springfield,  the  bombardment  of  Fort  Hatteras,  the  battles  of  Ball's  Bluff  and 
Drainsville,  the  capture  of  Port  Royal,  the  battle  of  Mill  Spring,  the  capture  of 
Forts  Henry  and  Donelson  and  of  Nashville,  the  battle  of  Pea  Ridge,  the  battle 
between  the  Monitor  and  the  Merrimac,  the  battles  of  Winchester  the  battle  at 
Pittsburg  Landing  and  Shiloh,  the  capture  of  New  Orleans,  McClellan's  siege  of 
Yorktown,  the  battle  of  Williamsburg,  the  attack  at  Drury's  Bluff,  the  battles 
of  Hanover  Court  House,  Fair  Oaks  and  Green  Pines,  the  naval  battle  before 
Memphis,  the  Seven  Days'  battles  on  the  Peninsula,  the  battles  of  South  Mountain, 
Antietam  and  Fredericksburg,  the  tedious  siege  of  Yicksbnrg  and  Charleston 
and  Fort  Sumter  and  Petersburg,  the  bombardment  of  Fort  Fisher,  Farragut's 
twenty  days'  work  at  Mobile,  the  engagement  between  the  Kearsarge  and 
Alabama,  the  great  battles  of  Chancellorsville,  Salem  Heights,  Lookout  Moun 
tain,  the  Wilderness,  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  Cold  Harbor,  the  Chickahominy, 
Atlanta,  Nashville  and  Five  Forks,  Sheridan's  battles  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley, 
Sherman's  great  march  to  the  sea,  and  the  brilliant  closing  events  of  the  war. 

But  attractive,  as  it  is  hoped  the  literary  portion  of  this  work  will  be,  the 
pictorial  illustrations — all  steel  engravings  of  the  first  class — will  be  pronounced 
unrivalled  for  their  beauty  and  accuracy.  These  will  be  profusely  distributed, 
and  will  consist  of  battles  on  sea  and  land,  accurate  pictures  of  battle-fields, 
fortresses,  and  scenes  of  memorable  events ;  also  fine  portraits  of  all  the  more 
distinguished  military  and  naval  commanders.  Besides  which  will  be  given  a 
number  of  beautifully  colored  maps,  by  means  of  which  the  reader  may  readily 
follow  the  movements  of  armies  in  the  fields. 

In  brief,  it  is  confidently  anticipated  that  "The  Battles  of  America"  will  be 
made  so  complete  a  work  that  nothing  can  be  added  to  it  with  advantage  ;  and 
that,  in  all  time  to  come,  the  United  States  may  have  no  more  battles  to  record, 
but  that  peace  may  become  the  true  panoply  of  all  Nations. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA, 


PART  I,— COLONIAL  BATTLES, 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  Rivalry  between  England  and  France  in  the  Old  World  revived  in  the  New. — France's  Lnst  of  Dominion  m  Amer 
ica. — Jealousy  of  English  Colonists. — Frequent  Conflicts,  with  no  Results  but  Spilling  of  Blood. — Louis  the  Four 
teenth's  Contemptuous  Disregard  of  his  American  Subjects. — His  Fatal  Concessions  to  Great  Britain  by  the  Treaty 
of  Utrecht. — The  Consequent  Danger  of  Canada. — The  French  guard  against  it  by  the  Founding  of  Louisburg. — 
Its  Extensive  Fortifications. — The  Jealousy  of  the  English  Colonists  excited. — Their  Trade  endangered. — The  French 
deemed  a  Horde  of  Dangerous  Interlopers. — Anxiety  to  get  rid  of  them. — The  French  commence  Hostilities. — Can- 
seau  attacked  by  the  French  and  captured. — Annapolis  repels  the  Invaders. — New  England  aroused  — Governor  Shir 
ley,  of  Massachusetts,  boldly  resolves  upon  a  Secret  Expedition  against  Louisburg. — The  Secret  disclosed  by  a  Pious 
Member  of  the  General  Court. — Shirley  asks  the  Aid  of  the  Home  Government  for  the  Defence  of  Nova  Scotia. — So 
licits  the  Assistance  of  the  English  West-India  Fleet. — Shirley  opposed  by  the  Legislature. — He  finally  triumphs  over 
the  Opposition. — Massachusetts  foremost  in  voting  Men  and  Money. — Land-Forces  and  the  Fleet  of  New  England. — 
Embarrassment  of  the  Governor  in  the  Choice  of  a  Commander  of  the  Expedition. — Colonel  William  Peppercll  finally 
chosen. — Governor  Wentworth  passed  over,  on  the  Score  of  Ill-Health. — Wentworth,  disappointed,  declares  he  nas 
thrown  away  his  Crutches,  and  offers  his  Services,  but  too  late. — Pcpperell  hesitates  to  accept. — The  famous  Whitcfield 
advises  him  religiously. — The  Expedition  against  Louisburg  a  Religious  Crusade. — The  Pious  Enthusiasm  of  the 
People. — Pepperell's  Origin,  Life,  and  Character. — A  Great  Merchant. — Immense  Popularity. — Military  Experience. 
— Recruits  crowd  to  his  Standard. —  Shirley,  anxious  to  take  Louisburg  by  a  Coup  de  Main,  cuts  off  all  Communication 
with  the  Place. — The  Expedition  prepares  to  sail. — A  Heavy  Blow,  and  Great  Discouragement. — Admiral  Warren, 
of  the  West-India  Station,  at  the  Last  Moment,  refuses  to  co-operate. — Prayers  and  Sermons. — Expedition  sails  for 
Canseau. 


THE  rivalry  between  England  and 
France  in  the  Old  World  was  revived  in 
the  New  under  circumstances  calculated 
no  less  to  excite  jealousy,  and  stir  up  con 
tention,  than  those  which  had  for  ages 
brought  these  twro  nations  in  another 
hemisphere  into  almost  constant  conflict. 
As  in  Europe,  so  in  America,  the  English 
find  French  were  near  neighbors;  and 
with  this  proximity  of  two  different  and 
aspiring  people,  came  naturally  a  clash 
ing  of  interests,  and  repeated  struggles 
for  supremacy.  France,  in  possession  of 


Canada  and  Louisiana,  was,  with  its  usual 
lust  of  dominion,  eager  to  enlarge  the 
boundaries  of  its  American  territory:  with 
this  view,  she  claimed  the  whole  region 
which  extended  back  of  the  original  Brit 
ish  colonies  from  the  mouth  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  to  that  of  the  Mississippi,  and 
strove  on  every  occasion  to  make  good 
her  claims  by  military  possession.  The 
English  settlers,  with  their  rapidly-devel 
oping  commercial  and  trading  interests, 
looked  at  these  encroachments  with  a 
jealous  eye,  and  sought  every  opportuni- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


1713, 


ty  to  check  the  advances  of  their  French 
rivals.  Frequent  collisions  ensued  in 
consequence,  and  the  colonial  annals  are 
fall  of  recorded  conflicts  between  the  two 
competitors  for  American  dominion.  The 
temporary  military  triumph  of  the  one  or 
the  other  was  the  only  result  of  these  re 
peated  contests,  and  the  combatants  were 
left,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  possession 
of  their  original  territorial  claims. 

In  1713,  however,  Louis  XIV., 
with  a  contemptuous  disregard  of 
the  interests  of  his  American  subjects, 
ceded  to  Great  Britain,  by  the  treaty  of 
Utrecht,  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia — 
called  by  the  French  Acadie — Newfound 
land  with  its  wealth  of  fisheries,  and  the 
territory  bordering  Hud3on's  bay. 

This  concession  was  a  fatal  blow  to 
French  dominion  in  America.  Newfound 
land  and  Nova  Scotia  should  have  been 
retained  at  all  hazards  by  France,  as  they 
were,  from  their  position  off  the  mouth 
of  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  natural  guards  to 
Canada.  It  is  true  that  the  island  of  Cape 
Breton,  to  the  west,  was  reserved  for  the 
protection  of  the  Canadian  possessions; 
but  its  proximity  to  the  coast  of  New  Eng 
land,  and  to  Nova  Scotia  from  which  it 
was  only  separated  by  a  narrow  strait, 
exposed  it  to  attack  from  those  quarters. 

The  French  were  alive  to  the  danger 
incurred  by  the  concessions  of  the  treaty 
of  Utrecht,  and  strove  to  secure  the  safety 
of  their  Canadian  territory  by  strongly  for 
tifying  Cape  Breton,  as  their  only  means 
of  guarding  the  approach  to  the  St.  Law 
rence,  and  thus  protecting  the  extensive 
territory  of  which  that  river  is  the  outlet. 
They  accordingly  founded  a  walled  town 


on  a  tongue  of  land,  at  the  southeastern 
part  of  Cape  Breton,  and  called  it  Louis- 
burg,  in  honor  of  their  monarch.  The 
most  skilful  engineers  of  France  were 
commissioned  to  fortify  it  on  the  most 
extensive  plan,  and  according  to  the  best 
approved  systems  of  defence. 

The  site  of  the  town  and  fortifications 
embraced  a  circumference  of  no  less  than 
two  and  a  half  miles ;  while  a  solid  ram 
part  of  masonry,  with  a  height  of  more 
than  thirty  feet  and  a  ditch  of  the  width 
of  eighty  feet,  was  constructed  to  protect 
every  part  that  was  approachable.  Tow 
ard  the  sea,  there  was  no  occasion  for 
more  than  the  defence  of  a  dike  and  pick 
ets,  since  the  water  here  was  so  shallow 
and  so  underspread  with  dangerous  reefs, 
that  there  was  no  danger  from  the  ap 
proach  of  armed  vessels.  The  entrance  to 
the  harbor  was  only  four  hundred  yards 
wide,  and  this  was  defended  by  the  con 
struction  of  a  battery  of  thirty  twenty- 
eight  pounders  upon  a  small  island  which 
was  conveniently  situated  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  strait.  Another  battery 
was  built  on  the  land  bordering  the  up 
per  part  of  the  harbor,  and  directly  facing 
the  town.  This  was  termed  the  Royal 
battery,  and  was  provided  with  twenty- 
eight  forty-two  and  two  eighteen-pound 
cannon.  On  the  elevated  ground  of  the 
main-land  opposite  to  the  fortified  island, 
stood  the  lighthouse,  and  at  some  distance 
to  the  north  were  built  the  necessary 
magazines  and  storehouses. 

The  town  itself  was  handsomely  con 
structed  of  wood  and  stone,  and  was  en 
tered  through  a  gate  at  the  west  over  a 
drawbridge,  which  was  defended  by  a  cir- 


COLONIAL.] 


LOUISBURG  AND  ITS  FORTIFICATIONS. 


cular  battery  containing  thirteen  twenty- 
four  pounders.  The  cost  of  the  \vhole 
construction,  of  town  and  fortifications, 
amounted  to  no  less  than  six  millions  of 
dollars ;  and  such  had  been  the  deliber 
ate  care  with  which  the  works  were  con 
ducted,  that  they  required  twenty-five 
years  for  their  completion. 

The  English  colonists  of  the  New  Eng 
land  coast  naturally  beheld  the  rising  of 
this  strongly-fortified  citadel  with  anx 
ious  alarm.  They  began  to  fear  for  the 
safety  of  their  trade  and  commerce  :  they 
saw,  in  Louisburg,  a  cover  for  French 
cruisers  and  privateers,  which,  on  the 
least  pretence  of  hostility,  might  sail  out 
and  pounce  upon  their  merchantmen  and 
fishing-vessels.  The  English,  with  a  natu 
ral  instinct  for  trade,  had  largely  devel 
oped  the  Atlantic  fisheries  and  commerce, 
while  the  French,  more  intent  upon  mili 
tary  possession,  seemed  eager  only  for 
the  glory  of  dominion.  The  latter,  there 
fore,  were  regarded  by  the  former  as  a 
horde  of  dangerous  interlopers,  whom  it 
was  necessary  to  get  rid  of  at  all  hazards, 
as  fatal  obstacles  to  British  colonial  pros 
perity. 

Odious,  however,  as  the  threatening 
aspect  of  the  fortified  Louisburg  was  to 
the  New-Englanders,  and  eager  as  they 
were  to  rid  themselves  of  so  dangerous 
a  neighbor,  it  was  not  before  the  French 
had  provoked  the  attack,  that  the  Eng 
lish  prepared  to  commence  hostilities. 

Nova  Scotia,  in  possession  of  Great 
Britain,  was  poorly  defended  by  two 
small  English  garrisons :  one  on  the  is 
land  of  Canseau,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
strait  of  that  name,  which  separates  No 


va  Scotia  from  Cape  Breton;  and  the 
other  at  Port  Royal,  or  Annapolis,  situ 
ated  to  the  north.  The  French  com 
mander  at  Louisburg,  anticipating  a  dec 
laration  of  war  between  France  and  Eng 
land,  sent  out  a  detachment  of  nine 
hundred  men  against  the  garrison 
of  Canseau.  The  English,  consisting  only 
of  a  single  company  of  soldiers,  and  sus 
pecting  nothing,  were  taken  by  surprise 
and  conveyed  to  Louisburg  as  captives. 
A  similar  attempt  was  made  upon  An 
napolis;  but  William  Shirley,  governor 
of  Massachusetts,  anticipating  the  dan 
ger,  had  sent  a  small  force  from  Boston 
to  the  aid  of  the  garrison,  which  succeed 
ed  with  much  difficulty  in  repelling  the 
French  attack. 

The  colonists  of  Massachusetts  were 
greatly  provoked  by  these  invasions,  and 
prepared  to  take  revenge.  Their  thoughts 
naturally  turned  to  Louisburg,  the  pos 
session  of  which  by  the  French  was  be 
lieved  to  be  so  dangerous  to  the  British 
colonial  interests.  The  prisoners  who 
had  been  captured  at  Canseau  and  taken 
to  L  ouisburg,  had  been  set  free.  On  their 
arrival  in  Boston,  their  imprisonment  be 
came  naturally  a  general  topic  of  conver 
sation,  and  served  to  stimulate  the  desire 
for  an  attack  upon  the  place  of  their  cap 
tivity.  They,  moreover,  were  enabled  to 
give  the  exactest  information  in  regard 
to  Louisburg  and  its  fortifications.  With 
this  definite  knowledge,  Governor  Shir 
ley  conceived  the  bold  idea  of  getting  uj 
a  secret  invasion  of  the  French  citadel, 
with  the  view  of  taking  it  by  surprise 
and  capturing  it  at  once  by  a  coup  de  main. 
Shirley  was  so  bent  upon  his  scheme. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


and  so  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  se 
crecy,  that  he  extorted  from  each  mem 
ber  of  the  general  court  a  solemn  oath 
not  to  divulge  his  plan.  The  secret  was, 
however,  only  kept  for  a  few  days ;  it 
having  been  disclosed  through  the  piety 
of  one  whose  voice  was  heard,  not  only 
in  the  legislature,  but  the  church.  In 
his  capacity  as  member  of  the  latter,  be 
ing  called  upon  to  pray,  he  piously  in 
voked  the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  Shir 
ley's  scheme,  and  thus  disclosed  the  gov 
ernor's  important  secret.  The  subject 
now  became  the  common  talk,  and  gen 
eral  opinion  was  freely  expressed  against 
the  proposition,  as  reckless  and  impossi 
ble 

Shirley  strove  even  to  mystify  the 
British  ministry ;  and,  while  he  invoked 
their  aid,  he  carefully  concealed  from 
them  the  exact  purpose  of  his  demand. 
He  wrote  to  the  home  government,  ask 
ing  for  the  assistance  of  a  naval  force,  on 
the  plea  that  Nova  Scotia  was  threatened 
by  the  French ;  and  addressed  also  a  let 
ter  to  Warren,  who  had  the  naval  com 
mand  on  the  West-India  station,  and  was 
then  at  Antigua,  soliciting  his  aid. 

The  indefatigable  Shirley  was  not  to 
be  balked  of  his  favorite  purpose  by  the 
opposition  of  the  legislature,  which  had 
reported,  through  a  committee,  unfavor 
ably  to  the  attack  on  Louisburg.  He 
accordingly  used  his  influence  with  the 
traders  of  New  England,  to  prevail  upon 
them  to  get  up  a  petition  to  the  legisla 
ture  to  reconsider  its  former  vote.  This 
was  done,  and  had  its  effect ;  for  a  new 
committee  was  appointed,  which  report- 
ed  in  favor  of  the  expedition.  Upon  the 


report  being  warmly  and  longly  discussed, 
the  governor's  plan  was  finally  carried 
by  the  majority  of  one.  The  vote  was 
given ;  there  was  no  longer  any  opposi 
tion  to  carrying  out  its  object ;  and  all  the 
colonists  warmly  seconded  the  efforts  01 
Shirley  for  the  execution  of  the  proposed 
attack  upon  Louisburg. 

New  England,  and  particularly  Massa 
chusetts,  felt  naturally  the  greatest  inter 
est  in  the  enterprise,  and  the  share  borne 
in  it  by  that  portion  of  the  colonies  was 
accordingly  the  greatest.  Massachusetts 
was  foremost,  and  voted  to  contribute 
more  than  three  thousand  men.  Next 
came  Connecticut,  with  five  hundred ; 
and  then  Rhode  Island  and  New  Hamp 
shire,  with  three  hundred  each.  Aid  was 
solicited  from  the  other  colonies,  but 
there  was  little  active  sympathy  showrn 
Avith  the  cause,  and  New  England  was 
left  to  bear  the  chief  burden.  Pennsyl 
vania,  however,  sent  some  provisions,  and 
New  York  contributed  a  small  supply  of 
artillery.  In  addition  to  the  land-forces, 
there  were  fourteen  small  armed  vessels, 
with  an  aggregate  of  two  hundred  and 
four  guns,  made  up  of  the  various  cruis 
ers  kept  always  in  service  by  the  sea 
board  colonies.  With  the  transports,  the 
whole  fleet  amounted  to  no  less  than  a 
hundred  sail.  A  provincial,  of  the  name 
of  Edward  Tyng,  was  appointed  commo 
dore  of  this  colonial  squadron. 

It  was  a  matter  of  greater  difficulty  to 
find  a  commander  for  the  land-forces,  and 
a  general  leader  of  the  expedition.  The 
governor  of  Massachusetts  seemed  em 
barrassed  in  making  a  choice,  as  might 
naturally  have  been  expected  among  a 


COLONIAL.] 


WILLIAM  PEPPERELL. 


people  whose  occupations  were  of  com 
merce  and  trade.  It  was  not  difficult  to 
find  among  the  fishermen,  lumberers,  sail 
ors,  and  mechanics,  of  New  England,  har 
dy  and  bold  men  enough  for  any  under 
taking  requiring  courage  and  endurance ; 
but  who  among  them  had  that  knowl 
edge  of  military  art  necessary  to  disci 
pline  their  rude  force  into  the  order  re 
quired  for  regular  warfare  ?  It  is  true, 
there  were  not  wanting  those  who  had 
gathered  their  countrymen  together  from 
the  bench,  the  field,  and  the  fishery,  and 
led  them  against  the  savages,  in  defence 
of  their  lives  and  property.  These  were, 
however,  mere  Indian  skirmishes  in  which 
there  was  no  occasion  for  military  art. 

Governor  Shirley  was  supposed  to  have 
hesitated  for  some  time  between  two  dis 
tinguished  New-Englanders :  Wentworth, 
governor  of  New  Hampshire,  and  Colonel 
William  Pepperell,  president  of  the  coun 
cil  of  Massachusetts.  He  finally  chose 
the  latter,  but  evidently  not  without  some 
compunctions  of  injustice  toward  the  for 
mer,  to  whom  he  wrote,  after  the  appoint 
ment  of  Pepperell,  to  this  effect:  "It 
would  have  been  an  infinite  satisfaction 
to  me,  and  done  great  honor  to  the  ex 
pedition,  if  your  limbs  would  have  per 
mitted  you  to  take  the  chief  command." 
Shirley  alluded  to  Wentworth's  gout,  as 
his  reason  for  passing  him  by.  The  gov 
ernor  of  New  Hampshire,  however,  did 
not  care  thus  to  be  invalided,  and  wrote 
in  reply  that  he  had  thrown  away  his 
crutches,  and  was  ready,  in  spite  of  the 
gout,  to  march  at  the  head  of  the  expe 
dition.  But  it  was  too  late,  as  Pepperell 
had  already  received  his  appointment. 
2 


No  better  selection  could  probably 
have  been  made,  in  the  want  of  any  reg 
ular  military  tactician.  Pepperell,  how 
ever,  was  very  doubtful  of  his  own  capa 
city  for  the  undertaking,  and  hesitated 
to  accept  the  position.  Governor  Shir 
ley  strenuously  urged  him  to  comply,  on 
the  ground  that  his  influence  with  those 
upon  whom  the  expedition  depended  for 
its  success  could  not  be  dispensed  with. 
He,  however,  still  pondered  the  matter, 
and  determined  to  consult  his  friends  be 
fore  coming  to  a  final  conclusion. 

At  this  time,  the  celebrated  George 
Whitefield,theeloquentMethodist  preach 
er,  had  reached  New  England,  in  the 
course  of  his  evangelizing  labors  in  Amer 
ica,  and  was  stopping  at  the  house  of 
Pepperell,  in  Maine.  The  host  took  this 
occasion  of  consulting  his  famous  guest 
in  regard  to  his  appointment,  and  is  sup 
posed  to  have  been  influenced  by  White- 
field's  advice,  in  his  resolution  to  accept. 
The  divine  said,  he  did  not  think  the 
scheme  very  promising ;  that  the  eyes  of 
all  would  be  upon  him ;  that  if  it  should 
not  succeed,  the  widows  and  orphans  of 
the  slain  would  reproach  him ;  and  if  it 
should  succeed,  many  would  regard  him 
with  envy,  and  endeavor  to  eclipse  his 
glory;  that  he  ought,  therefore,  to  go 
with  a  single  eye,  and  he  would  find  his 
strength  proportioned  to  his  necessity. 

This  was  good  religious  advice,  and 
gave  a  holy  sanction  to  the  enterprise, 
which  seems  to  have  had  its  influence  in 
determining  Pepperell  to  undertake  it, 
and  in  inspiring  many  of  the  New-Eng 
land  people  with  a  pious  ardor  in  favor 
of  the  cause.  Many  of  Whitefield's  own 


10 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


converts  offered  themselves  with  enthu 
siasm  as  recruits,  and  all  began  to  con 
sider  the  expedition  as  a  sanctified  one. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Puritan  feel 
ing  of  New  England  was  aroused  in  reli 
gious  hostility  to  the  French,  in  conse 
quence  of  their  Roman  Catholic  faith. 
Whitefield  himself  seems  to  have  given 
such  a  direction  to  the  sentiment  of  New 
England  by  the  motto  which  he  furnished 
for  the  flag  of  the  expedition.  Nil  des- 
perandum,  Christo  duce — "  With  Christ  for 
our  leader,  nothing  is  to  be  despaired  of" 
— were  the  words  supplied ;  and  none 
could  have  been  better  chosen,  to  give 
the  tone  of  a  religious  crusade  to  the  un 
dertaking.  That  such,  in  effect,  was  the 
result,  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact 
that  clergymen,  with  axes  on  shoulder, 
prepared  to  demolish  popish  images,  read 
ily  enlisted  for  service ;  and  from  such 
letters  as  this  from  one  Deacon  Gray,  ad 
dressed  to  Pepperell :  "  0  that  I  could 
be  with  you  and  dear  Parson  Moody  in 
that  church,  to  destroy  the  images  there 
set  up,  and  hear  the  true  gospel  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  there  preached !  My 
wife,  who  is  ill  and  confined  to  her  bed, 
yet  is  so  spirited  in  the  affair,  on  hearing 
of  your  taking  the  command,  that  she  is 
very  willing  all  her  sons  should  wait  on 
you,  though  it  is  outwardly  greatly  to 
our  damage.  One  of  them  has  already 
enlisted,  and  I  know  not  but  there  will 
be  more.  She  sends  her  duty  to  you, 
and  says,  so  long  as  she  has  life  she  shall 
importunately  pray  for  you." 

There  was  no  man  in  the  whole  colony 
more  popular  than  Pepperell.  He  was  a 
thorough  New-Englander,  by  birth,  edu 


cation,  religion,  habits,  and  occupation. 
His  father,  at  an  early  age,  had  emigrated 
from  Wales  and  settled  at  Kittery,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Piscataqua,  the  river  which 
separates  Maine  from  New  Hampshire. 
Commencing  as  a  fisherman,  he  finally 
reached  the  more  imposing  position  of  a 
merchant,  and  became  colonially  famous 
for  wealth  and  integrity. 

His  son  William  was  born  in  1696  at 
Kittery.  His  early  education  was  the 
best  that  could  be  supplied  by  the  vil 
lage  school,  and  consisted  only  of  the  ele 
mentary  reading,  spelling,  and  arithme 
tic.  Having  soon  exhausted  these  aca 
demic  resources,  he  was  taken  into  his 
father's  trading  establishment,  and  there 
finished  his  education,  which  was,  of 
course,  more  of  a  practical  than  scholas 
tic  character.  The  Pepperells  were  great 
merchants  for  those  times,  and  dealt  large 
ly  in  timber,  fish,  and  Wesi^Indian  molas 
ses,  rum,  and  negroes. 

The  elder  Pepperell,  from  a  fisherman's 
apprentice,  had  passed  rapidly  through 
the  various  transitions  of  fisherman,  pro 
prietor  of  fishing-boats,  shopkeeper,  and 
factor,  until  he  finally  became  ship-owner 
and  merchant.  He  had  his  coasters  to 
send  to  the  West  Indies  with  lumber,  in 
exchange  for  sugar  and  other  tropical 
productions ;  his  ships  to  take  these  and 
other  colonial  produce  to  Europe,  and 
bring  back  manufactured  goods ;  and,  in 
fact,  he  carried  on  as  important  commer 
cial  transactions  as  the  colonial  trade  al 
lowed.  His  son  William  soon  became  a 
partner  in  the  paternal  house,  and  add 
ed  rapidly  to  its  importance  and  wealth. 
On  his  father's  death,  he  succeeded  him 


COLONIAL. J 


MILITARY  ARDOR. 


11 


as  the  principal  member  of  the  firm,  and 
in  a  few  years  was  known  throughout 
New  England  as  the  wealthiest  and  most 
influential  of  its  merchants. 

Taking  an  active  part  in  the  public 
concerns  of  the  colony,  he  soon  secured 
a  large  share  of  colonial  honor.  He  suc 
cessively  became  justice  of  the  peace,  a 
captain,  major,  lieutenant-colonel,  colonel, 
and  commander-in-chief,  of  the  militia  of 
Maine,  and  finally  member  of  the  coun 
cil  of  Massachusetts.  It  was  his  military 
prominence,  combined  with  his  great  per 
sonal  influence  and  popularity,  which  had 
induced  Governor  Shirley  to  give  him 
the  command  of  the  expedition  about 
to  set  out  for  the  attempt  upon  Louis- 
burg. 

Pepperell's  command  as  colonel  of  the 
militia  seems  to  have  inspired  him  with 
considerable  military  ardor.  He  devoted 
himself  with  great  spirit  to  his  duties, 
and,  by  frequent  drills,  musters,  and  pa 
rades,  imparted  to  his  miscellaneous  regi 
ment  of  fishermen,  lumberers,  and  me 
chanics,  all  the  discipline  of  which  they 
were  capable.  As  the  neighborhood  was 
particularly  exposed  to  the  incursions  of 
surrounding  savages,  there  was  the  mo 
tive  of  constant  and  imminent  danger  to 
prompt  to  alertness  of  military  prepara 
tion.  The  ardor  of  their  commander  was 
thus  readily  shared  by  his  fellow-colo 
nists  ;  and  it  may  well  be  conceived 
that  the  troops  of  Maine  were  as  effect 
ive  as  the  best  of  the  irregulars.  None 
could  have  surpassed  them  in  courage 
and  endurance,  and  few  equalled  their 
skill  in  the  use  of  the  firelock.  In  the 
frequent  skirmishes  with  the  Indians, 


they  had  become  practised  in  savage 
warfare ;  while  not  only  their  occupa 
tions  as  fishermen  and  lumberers,  but 
their  amusements  on  the  sea  and  in  the 
forest,  served  to  inure  them  to  danger 
and  fatigue,  as  well  as  to  accustom  them 
to  the  exercise  of  their  strength  and  skill. 
All  they  required  was  the  practice  of  act 
ing  together  in  large  bodies;  and  this 
they  were  about  learning,  for  the  first 
time,  in  the  hazardous  attempt  upon  Lou- 
isburg. 

The  recruits  came  in  rapidly,  as  soon 
as  it  was  known  that  Colonel  Pepperell 
had  accepted  the  command  of  the  pro 
posed  expedition.  His  personal  influ 
ence  was  so  great,  that  all  his  immediate 
neighbors  capable  of  bearing  arms  seem 
ed  eager  to  join  his  standard.  The  whole 
town  of  Berwick  turned  out  almost  to  a 
man.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  obtain 
ing  the  necessary  quota  of  soldiers  for 
the  ranks,  but  there  was  some  trouble  in 
reconciling  the  officers  to  assuming  cer 
tain  subordinate  positions.  Some  of  these, 
even  in  Berwick,  were  accordingly  back 
ward  in  offering  their  services.  Pepper- 
ell,  referring  to  this  remissness,  wrote : 
"  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  that  the  com 
missioned  officers  in  Berwick  are  as  brave 
and  as  good  men  as  any  in  this  province, 
and  would  willingly  venture  their  lives 
with  their  colonel.  Please  to  tell  them 
all  I  sincerely  value  and  love  them,  and 
that  should  there  be  occasion  for  forces 
to  be  sent  after  us,  I  don't  doubt  in  tin 
least  but  they  will  be  ready  to  come.  1 
beg  all  their  prayers." 

Governor  Shirley  was  still  bent  upon 
his  scheme  of  taking  Louisburg  by  sur- 


12 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


prise ;  and  accordingly,  although  he  had 
failed  to  keep  the  purpose  of  his  expedi 
tion  a  secret  from  his  own  people,  he  re 
solved  to  use  every  precaution  to  mysti 
fy  the  French.  All  communication  with 
Louisburg  was  cut  off,  by  prohibiting  the 
sailing  of  colonial  vessels  to  that  place ; 
and  it  was  strictly  forbidden  for  copies 
to  be  taken  of  the  orders  read  to  the  com 
panies,  or  for  any  soldier  to  disclose  their 
purport.  Shirley's  plan  of  taking  Louis- 
burg  by  surprise,  and  carrying  it  by  a 
coup  dc  main,  was  based  upon  his  knowl 
edge,  not  only  of  the  strength  of  that 
citadel,  but  of  the  weakness  of  the  colo-  j 
nial  forces.  He  naturally  supposed  that 
an  undisciplined  militia  had  not  the  ne 
cessary  skill,  or  even  the  patience,  for 
executing  the  operations  of  a  systematic 
siege.  He  knew,  moreover,  that  the  col 
onists,  to  a  man,  would  do  all  that  enter 
prise  and  courage  could  do  in  the  want 
of  art,  and  accordingly  trusted  for  success 
to  these  well-known  characteristics  of  the 
New-England  troops.  It  was,  therefore, 
no  Quixotic  scheme  of  Shirley  to  design 
a  rapid  movement,  a  sudden  surprise,  and 
a  quick  execution,  by  which  the  skilled 
soldier  in  command  of  the  French  for 
tress  would  be  thrown  off  his  guard,  and 
be  prevented  from  bringing  to  bear  the 
resources  of  military  art  against  his  un 
disciplined  opponents.  The  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  accordingly,  as  Bancroft 
says,  "  wisest  of  all,  gave  instructions  for 
the  fleet  of  a  hundred  vessels  to  arrive 
together  at  a  precise  hour;  heedless  of 
the  surf,  to  land  in  the  dark  on  the  rocky 
shore  ;  to  march  forthwith,  through  thick 
et  and  bog,  to  the  city  and  beyond  it ; 


and  to  take  the  fortress  and  Royal  bat 
tery  by  surprise  before"  daybreak." 

The  troops  all  being  raised  within  the 
brief  period  of  two  months,  and  to  the 
number  of  over  three  thousand,  prepared 
to  sail  in  the  fleet  now  at  anchor  in  the 
roads  of  Nantucket.  Some  of  the  fleet 
est  of  the  provincial  cruisers  were  sent 
in  advance,  to  hover  about  Louisburg, 
and  intercept  all  French  vessels  bound 
thither.  The  rest  were  detained  to  trans 
port  the  provincial  forces.  A  day  was 
now  set  apart  for  prayer^  and  to  invoke 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  the  expedi 
tion.  Large  crowds  gathered  together 
on  the  shore,  on  the  Sunday  preceding 
the  day  of  embarkation ;  solemn  prayers 
were  offered  up  to  the  God  of  battles, 
imploring  his  aid  in  the  coming  struggle  ; 
and  sermons  were  delivered  in  every 
church,  setting  forth  the  holiness  of  the 
cause,  and  urging  the  duty  of  each  sol 
dier  to  do  his  "manfullest  in  the  service 
of  the  Great  Captain  of  our  salvation." 

On  the  day  before  the  departure,  a 
heavy  blow  and  great  discouragement 
came,  in  an  answer  from  Warren,  the 
commodore  of  the  West-India  squadron, 
to  Governor  Shirley,  refusing  to  give  the 
aid  solicited.  The  colonial  forces  had  ex 
pected  to  be  reinforced  by  this  squadron 
before  sailing ;  but  the  cause  of  the  non- 
arrival  of  Warren  with  his  ships  having 
been  kept  a  secret  by  the  prudent  gov 
ernor,  and  only  disclosed  to  Pepperell 
(now  lieutenant-general)  and  his  second 
in  command,  General  Wolcot,  the  troops 
embarked  in  ignorance,  and  expected 
merely  a  temporary  delay  of  the  naval 
assistance  still  confidently  hoped  for. 


COLONIAL.] 


SAILING  OF  THE  EXPEDITION. 


13 


The  small  settlement  of  Canseau,  in 
the  strait  of  that  name  dividing  Nova 
Scotia  and  Cape  Breton,  having  been  de 
termined  upon  as  the  rendezvous,  the 
various  vessels  set  sail.  The  troops  of 


Massachusetts,  which  formed  the  larger 
proportion  of  the  forces,  sailed  first,  on 
the  24th  of  March,  and  were  sue- 

1  r» 

ceecled  at  brief  intervals  by  those 
of  New  Hampshire  and  Connecticut. 


CHAPTER   II. 

Arrival  at  Canseau. — Detained  by  Ice. — A  proposal  to  float  into  Lonisburg  upon  Icebergs. — Encouraged  by  a  Capture.— 
The  Judicious  Pcppcrell  keeps  his  Troops  busy. — The  Encouraging  Arrival  of  a  British  Squadron. — Admiral  Warren. 
— His  Life  and  Character. — His  Nephew,  Sir  William  Johnson. — Pepperell  superseded  in  the  Naval  Department. — 
His  Judicious  Behavior. — Shirley's  Letter. — His  Desire  to  give  Warren  the  Pre-eminence. — Pepperell  tenacious  of  his 
Rights. — Anxious  to  secure  the  Glories  of  the  Coming  Conquest  for  the  New-Englanders. — The  Ice  clears  away. — 
Departure  for  Louisburg. — The  French  unexpcctant  of  the  Attack. — Sailing  into  the  Bay. — Landing. — The  Alarm  of 
the  Fortress. — The  Enemy  put  to  Flight. — The  Capture  of  Morepang. — Encampment  before  the  Town. — Admiral 
Warren  doing  Good  Service  on  the  Coast. — Colonel  Vaughan  sent  to  reconnoitre. — The  Garrison  of  the  Grand  Bat 
tery  frightened  by  a  Smoke. — Their  Flight. — The  Hoisting  of  a  Ked  Coat. — A  Sortie  from  the  Fort. — The  French  driven 
back. — The  Grand  Battery  reinstated  and  held  by  the  Ncw-Englandcrs. — The  French  strive  by  a  Brisk  Cannonade  to 
make  it  too  hot  to  hold. — Their  Want  of  Success. — The  Siege  regularly  begun. — Erection  of  Batteries. — The  Diffi 
culties  spiritedly  overcome. — The  Island  Battery  a  Great  Annoyance. — The  Attempt  upon  it  postponed  by  the  Advice 
of  Pepperell. — The  Town  summoned  to  surrender. — The  Defiant  Answer  of  the  French. —  Councils-of-War. — A  De 
termination  to  carry  Louisburg  by  Storm. — Postponement. — The  Siege  expected  to  be  long. — The  New-Englanders, 
however,  still  hopeful. — The  Sufferings  of  the  Besiegers. — Pcppcrell  forced  to  send  to  Shirley  for  Reinforcements. — A 
Heavy  Fire  opened  against  the  Walls  — A  Breach  made. — Compliments  passed  between  the  Hostile  Parties. — Split 
ting  of  Cannon. — Captures  by  the  Fleet. — Impatience  of  the  Admiral. — Pepperell  cautious  and  temporizing. — Another 
Attempt  upon  the  Island  Battery  proposed,  and  again  postponed. — A  Small  Triumph  for  the  Enemy. — A  Gix>at 
Triumph  for  the  British  Fleet. — The  Capture  of  the  Vigilant. — A  General  Attack  by  Sea  and  Land  proposed. — An 
Unsuccessful  Attempt  upon  the  Island  Battery. 


THE  vessels  with  the  Massachu 
setts  troops  on  board  reached  Can 
seau  on  the  first  of  April,  and  were  in  a 
few  days  joined  by  the  rest.  Here  they 
were  unfortunately  detained,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  ice,  which,  breaking  up  in 
that  season,  had  drifted  in  such  masses 
in  and  about  the  harbor  of  Louisburg, 
that  it  was  impracticable  to  attempt  its 
entrance.  There  was  great  disappoint 
ment  felt  at  this  untimely  detention,  by 
the  ardent  and  sanguine ;  and  it  was  even 
gravely  suggested  by  some,  more  impul 
sive  and  impatient  than  the  rest,  to  float 
the  troops  into  Louisburg  on  the  ice ! 
The  men,  however,  kept  up  their  spirits 


successfully,  in  spite  of  the  untoward  de 
lay.  An  opportune  chance  at  an  ene 
my's  vessel  served  to  occupy  their  minds 
and  reinvigorate  their  hopes.  A  French 
colonial  vessel,  laden  with  tropical  prod 
uce,  rum,  and  molasses,  appeared  off  the 
coast,  making  its  way  to  the  port  of  Lou 
isburg.  The  New-England  cruisers  at 
once  pounced  upon  it,  and,  making  it 
an  easy  capture,  brought  the  prize  into 
Canseau,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
impatient  invaders. 

Care  was  taken  by  the  judicious  Pep 
perell  to  keep  his  men  busy.  Some  were 
put  to  preparing  the  ammunition  ;  some 
were  set  to  building  fortifications,  struo 


14 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAUT  i 


tures,  and  hospitals,  for  the  more  effect 
ive  protection  of  the  small  garrison  of 
Canseau;  and  others  were  sent  out  in 
detachments  to  practise  themselves  in 
skirmishes  with  the  neighboring  savages 
and  French.  Important  information  in 
regard  to  Louisburg  was  gathered  from 
those  taken  captive  in  these  engage 
ments. 

Three  weeks  had  thus  passed  with  the 
troops  still  at  Canseau,  in  consequence 
of  the  ice,  when  the  appearance  of  three 
large  vessels  off  the  harbor  was  an 
nounced.  These,  to  the  great  satisfac 
tion  of  the  colonists,  proved  to  be  British 
men-of-war,  under  command  of  Warren. 
Soon  after  this  officer  had  written  to  Gov 
ernor  Shirley,  refusing  to  co-operate  on 
his  own  responsibility  with  the  colonial 
expedition,  he  received  orders  from  the 
British  government  directing  him  to  ren 
der  with  his  squadron  all  the  aid  in  his 
power  to  the  New-England  enterprise. 

Warren,  who  was  a  prompt  officer,  im 
mediately  set  sail  in  the  Superbe,  ac 
companied  by  the  Launceston  and  the 
Mermaid.  He  was  making  for  the  port 
of  Boston,  quite  unaware  of  the  proposed 
attack  on  Louisburg,  when  he  fell  in  with 
a  New-England  vessel,  from  which  he 
learned  that  the  troops  had  sailed  for 
Canseau.  He  accordingly  directed  his 
course  at  once  for  that  place,  where  the 
arrival  of  his  three  effective  men-of-war 
was  now  hailed  with  joyful  acclamation. 

Warren  was  a  brave,  impulsive  Irish 
man,  and  a  most  skilful  sailor  and  judi 
cious  commander.  His  long  service  on 
the  American  coast  had  made  him  famil 
iar  with  its  navigation,  and  no  naval  offi 


cer  accordingly  could  be  better  fitted  to 
guard  provincial  seaboard  interests.  He 
was,  moreover,  bound  by  a  family  tie  to 
the  colonies,  having  married  the  daugh 
ter  of  James  Delancy,  lieutenantrgovern- 
or  of  New  York.  He  had  become  also  a 
large  landed  proprietor,  owning  an  exten 
sive  territory  watered  by  the  Mohawk. 

His  nephew  was  the  well-known  Sir 
William  Johnson,  who,  having  been  in 
vited  by  his  uncle  to  take  charge  of  his 
American  estates,  became  so  enamored 
of  the  wild  life  on  the  borders,  that  he 
passed  the  remainder  of  his  years  among 
the  Indians,  over  w7hom  he  exercised  an 
influence  perhaps  never  equalled  by  any 
European.  These  various  circumstances 
served  to  identify  Warren  with  colonial 
interests,  and  caused  him  to  support  them 
with  ardor. 

Warren  and  his  ships  were  a  great  ac 
cession  to  the  colonial  troops,  and  their 
arrival  gave  increased  confidence  to  all. 
Pepperell  might,  perhaps,  have  been  par 
doned  a  little  feeling  of  jealousy,  on  the 
arrival  of  the  English  admiral,  who  was 
to  supersede  him  in  part  of  his  command. 
Pepperell  had  been  appointed  lieutenant- 
general  and  commander-in-chief  of  both 
the  land  and  sea  forces.  He  was  now  re 
quested,  by  a  letter  from  Shirley,  to  make 
over  the  command  of  the  colonial  fleet 
to  Warren.  "You  will  perceive,"  says 
Shirley  to  Pepperell,  "  upon  your  perusal 
of  his  majesty's  orders  to  me,  that  in  any 
attempt  against  the  enemy's  settlements, 
he  has  plainly  given  Commodore  Warren 
the  command  of  the  shipping  or  naval 
force  with  which  I  am  ordered  to  assist 
him ;  hence  in  general  upon  any  expedi- 


COLONIAL.] 


ARRIVAL  OF  ADMIRAL  WARREN. 


tion,  which  you  are  sensible  must  super 
sede  any  commission  from  me,  as  to  any 
sea-command ;  and  doubtless  Commodore 
Warren  will  expect  and  insist  upon  the 
armed  vessels  with  which,  since  my  re 
ceiving  his  majesty's  orders,  I  am  assist 
ing  him  in  obedience  to  the  royal  com 
mands,  the  command  of  those  ships ;  and 
I  doubt  not,  sir,  from  the  extraordinary 
conduct  and  vigilance  with  which  you 
have  hitherto  acted  for  his  majesty's  ser 
vice,  that  you  will  instantly  give  orders 
to  Tyng  and  the  other  cruisers  to  follow 
the  commodore's  directions  and  orders  to 
them,  the  omitting  of  which  may  create 
a  most  unhappy  disagreement  and  vari 
ance  between  you  and  Mr.  Warren,  which 
may  prove  fatal  to  the  service.  Had  I 
not  received  these  precise  orders  from 
his  majesty,  which  so  evidently  give  Mr. 
Warren  a  general  command  at  sea,  in  all 
expeditions  from  hence,  I  should  have 
insisted  upon  my  command  given  you 
over  the  sea-forces  (which,  as  it  is,  is  only 
suspended  during  Captain  Warren's  pres 
ence,  and  would  revive  upon  his  going 
off),  against  every  person  whatsoever; 
and  you  must  be  sensible  that  this  is  not 
a  preference  given  to  him  by  me,  but 
only  acting  in  obedience  to  his  majesty's 
orders." 

It  is  quite  evident  that  Shirley  was 
particularly  anxious  to  shift  the  respon 
sibility  of  this  change  from  himself,  and 
at  the  same  time  not  the  less  desirous  of 
securing  as  large  a  share  of  the  command 
as  possible  for  Warren.  It  has  even  been 
asserted  that  the  governor  was  desirous 
of  giving  the  English  commodore  the  en 
tire  control  of  the  expedition.  There  is 


no  occasion,  if  this  be  true,  to  attribute 
Shirley's  conduct  to  jealousy  of  his  friend 
Pepperell.  It  was  quite  natural  that,  in 
his  anxiety  for  the  success  of  the  expedi 
tion,  of  which  he  was  the  originator,  the 
governor  should  have  more  faith  in  the 
leadership  of  one  who,  like  Warren,  was 
of  established  fame,  than  in  Pepperell, 
who,  with  all  his  well-known  qualities  as 
a  good  and  true  man,  had  had  no  oppor 
tunity  of  giving  proof  of  his  capacity  as 
a  military  commander. 

Pepperell,  though  tenacious  of  his  own 
rights,  was  the  first  to  welcome  Warren's 
arrival,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  yield  his 
naval  command  to  the  English  commo 
dore,  although  he  brooked  no  interfe 
rence  with  his  leadership  of  the  land- 
forces.  In  Pepperell's  first  letter  to  War 
ren,  in  which  he  hurried  to  congratulate 
him  upon  his  arrival,  he  took  care  at  once 
to  define  what  he  supposed  to  be  the  es 
pecial  function  of  the  naval  branch  of  the 
service  :  "  I  am  confident,"  he  says,  "  that 
nothing  which  the  strictest  vigilance  and 
prudence  can  foresee  or  bravery  execute 
will  be  wanting  on  your  part,  and  doubt 
not  you  will  succeed  in  preventing  ihe  in 
troduction  of  provisions  and  succors  into  Lou- 
islurg,  and  that  we  shall  soon  have  the 
pleasure  of  a  meeting  there." 

Pepperell  was  a  positive,  self-confident 
man,  and  relied,  with  all  his  inexperience 
and  that  of  his  troops,  upon  his  and  their 
efforts  mainly  for  the  attempt  upon  Lou- 
isburg.  He,  however,  was  a  prudent  man 
withal,  and  was  not  disposed,  upon  a  mere 
question  of  etiquette,  to  quarrel  with  War 
ren,  to  whom  and  whose  ships  he  looked 
for  such  important  aid  in  the  approaching 


16 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


enterprise.  It  was  now  agreed  between 
the  two  commanders  that  the  naval  squad 
ron  should  proceed  to  blockade  the  har 
bor  of  Louisburg,  and  thus  cut  off  all 
communication  by  sea ;  while  the  troops 
should  be  transported  at  the  earliest  mo 
ment,  and,  disembarking  at  the  most  con 
venient  point,  should  attack  by  land  the 
French  citadel. 

The  ice  did  not  clear  away  sufficiently 
until  toward  the  close  of  the  month  of 
April,  to  allow  of  the  sailing  of  the  troops. 
It  was  thus  as  late  as  the  29th  of  April 
when  the  transports  weighed  anchor  and 
sailed  for  Louisburg.  In  accordance  with 
Governor  Shirley's  design,  it  was  intend 
ed  to  reach  that  place  in  the  dead  of 
night,  and  therefore  the  departure  from 
Canseau  had  taken  place  early  in  the 
morning.  Though  starting  with  a  fair 
breeze,  the  wind  in  the  course  of  the 
evening  so  far  lulled,  that  the  vessels  did 
not  arrive  at  their  destination  until  an 
early  hour  next  day.  It  was  hoped  that 
they  would  have  reached  the  bay  of 
Chapeaurouge,or  Gabarus  as  it  was  called 
by  the  English,  upon  the  shores  of  which 
it  was  determined  to  land,  without  being 
discovered  by  the  inhabitants  of  Louis 
burg.  Every  precaution  had  been  taken 
to  prevent  a  knowledge,  on  the  part  of 
the  French,  of  the  proposed  attack,  and 
with  complete  success.  The  English  men- 
of-war  had  been  observed  cruising  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  their  purpose  was  not 
suspected ;  while  their  diligent  capture 
of  coasting  and  other  vessels  bound  to 
and  from  Louisburg,  put  a  stop  to  all 
communication  from  without,  by  which 
the  French  might  have  been  made  aware 


of  their  impending  danger,  and  have  pro 
tected  themselves  accordingly. 

It  was  not  until  the  New-England  fleet 
of  a  hundred  sail,  soon  after  daybreak  on 
the  morning  of  the  last  day  of  April,  came 
sailing  into  their  bay  under  full  canvas, 
that  the  French  were  conscious  of  their 
danger.  Great  was  the  alarm  and  great 
the  confusion  at  Louisburg  when  the  ap 
proach  of  so  formidable  an  enemy  was 
observed.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
if  the  colonial  troops  (so  unexpected  was 
the  invasion)  had  arrived  as  was  intend 
ed,  marched  to  the  town,  and  made  an 
assault  under  cover  of  the  night,  Louis 
burg  would  have  fallen  at  once,  and  Shir 
ley's  bold  design  been  fully  justified  by 
a  triumphant  success. 

The  provincial  troops  were  no  less  ea 
ger  for  the  attack  than  the  French  were 
dejected  at  its  prospect.  The  vessels  had 
hardly  come  to  anchor  in  the  bay, 
when  the  boats  were  lowered  and 
pulled  off,  loaded  down  with  soldiers,  ea 
ger  to  reach  the  shore  and  commence  the 
affray.  As  they  neared  the  land  within 
a  short  distance  of  the  walls  of  the  town, 
the  fort  was  aroused  to  a  great  state  of 
excitement.  The  bells  began  to  sound  a 
general  alarm,  and  the  signal-guns  were 
fired  in  quick  succession.  Finally,  a  de 
tachment  of  French  troops  appeared  is 
suing  from  the  gates  of  Louisburg,  and 
marching  rapidly  to  the  point  where  the 
provincials  seemed  about  to  land.  These 
latter,  however,  having  made  a  feint  of 
pulling  their  boats  to  a  certain  spot,  sud 
denly  changed  their  course,  and  disem 
barked  farther  inland,  before  the  enemy 
could  arrive  and  dispute  their  landing. 


COLONIAL.] 


FLYING  THE  RED  COAT. 


17 


They  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  safe 
ly  in  with  their  boats,  in  consequence  of 
the  great  surf,  but  finally  succeeded ;  and 
had  no  sooner  sprung  to  the  shore,  than 
they  became  the  pursuing  force,  and 
rushed  eagerly  to  meet  the  French,  whom 
they  defeated  at  the  first  collision,  killing 
seven  or  eight,  and  wounding  and  captu 
ring  as  many  more,  among  whom  was  the 
French  commander  Morepang.  The  rest 
of  the  enemy  took  to  their  heels  and  fled 
back  in  panic  to  the  town.  The  provin 
cials  came  out  of  the  encounter  without 
any  loss,  and  with  only  one  or  two  wound 
ed  ;  and,  being  in  fine  spirits,  their  com 
mander  was  eager  to  give  them  a  "  time 
for  a  general  push."  The  troops  now 
succeeded  in  landing,  without  fear  of  mo 
lestation;  and  in  the  course  of  a  few 
days,  the  whole  force  had  disembarked, 
and  encamped  before  the  town.  In  the 
meantime,  Pepperell  kept  up  almost  dai 
ly  communication  by  letter  with  Warren, 
who,  with  his  squadron  off  the  mouth  of 
the  bay,  was  doing  good  service  in  block 
ading  the  harbor,  and  protecting  by  the 
cover  of  his  guns  the  provincial  camp  on 
shore. 

As  soon  as  a  sufficient  number  of  the 
soldiers  had  landed,  Pepperell  sent,  on 
the  very  first  day  of  their  arrival,  Colonel 
Vaughan  (the  same  man  who  had  pro 
posed  the  bold  expedient  of  floating  the 
troops  upon  the  ice  into  Louisburg),  at 
the  head  of  a  company,  to  reconnoitre 
Louisburg  and  its  environs.  This  officer 
approached  as  near  as  possible  to  the 
garrison,  and,  having  let  them  hear  the 
sound  of  three  hearty  cheers,  he  marched 
his  men  to  the  acclivity  of  an  eminence 
3 


called  Green  hill,  which  overlooked  the 
Royal  battery,  at  some  distance  from  the 
town,  to  the  northeast  of  the  harbor. 
Here  Vaughan,  having  arrived  at  night> 
fall,  found  several  dwellings  and  struc 
tures,  to  which  he  set  fire,  making  a  most 
portentous-looking  blaze  and  smoke.  Du 
ring  the  night  Vaughan  sent  back  most 
of  his  men,  and  encamped  with  thirteen 
only  on  the  spot ;  and  at  break  of  day 
next  morning,  ascending  the  summit  of 
•Green  hill,  to  make  a  survey  of  the 
Grand  battery,  which  was  situated  within 
distinct  view  below,  he  was  surprised  to 
find  that  there  was  every  appearance  of 
its  being  deserted.  There  was  no  flag 
flying,  no  smoke  rising  from  the  barrack- 
chimneys,  and  in  fact  no  indication  of  its 
containing  a  single  soldier.  He  now  de 
scended  and  entered  the  battery  with  his 
thirteen  men,  and  sent  back  immediately 
to  the  provincial  camp,  asking  for  a  rein 
forcement  to  aid  in  holding  the  position, 
and  a  British  flag  to  fly  from  the  fort.  In 
the  meantime,  one  of  the  thirteen,  strip 
ping  off  his  red  coat,  and  taking  it  in  his 
teeth,  climbed  the  staff,  and  nailed  it  to 
the  top. 

It  seems  that  the  smoke  and  blaze 
from  the  conflagration  on  the  acclivity 
of  Green  hill,  during  the  night  before, 
had  been  observed  from  the  Grand  bat 
tery,  and  had  so  frightened  the  soldiers 
of  the  garrison,  who  supposed  that  the 
whole  force  of  the  enemy  was  approach 
ing,  that  they  deserted  their  post  and 
fled  into  the  town. 

The  French  soon  discovered  their  mis 
take,  and  sent  out  boats,  with  a  hundred 
men  or  so,  to  regain  possession  of  the 


18 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART 


battery  before  Vaughan  and  his  handful 
of  men  could  be  reinforced  by  the  pro 
vincial  camp.  The  brave  Vaughan,  how 
ever,  leading  out  his  thirteen  to  the  shore, 
succeeded  in  keeping  the  Frenchmen  at 
bay,  and  prevented  their  landing,  until 
aid  from  Pepperell  arrived,  when  the  en 
emy  were  forced  to  betake  themselves 
hurriedly  to  the  town. 

The  provincials,  finding  that  the  can 
non  had  been  spiked  by  the  French  pre 
vious  to  deserting  the  battery,  set  some, 
twenty  smiths,  under  the  supervision  of 
one  Pomeroy,  a  gunsmith  by  trade,  and 
now  a  major  of  a  Massachusetts  regiment, 
to  work  at  drilling  the  guns.  They  thus 
found  themselves  in  possession  of  twenty- 
eight  serviceable  forty-two  pounders,  be 
sides  a  good  supply  of  shells,  balls,  and 
other  ammunition.  The  powder,  how 
ever,  had  been  thrown  into  a  well.  With 
the  Grand  battery  thus  reinstated,  the 
provincials  were  enabled  to  turn  upon 
the  enemy  their  own  guns  with  great 
effect.  The  French  were  much  vexed  at 
the  result,  and  strove,  by  keeping  up  a 
brisk  fire,  to  render  the  position  too  hot 
for  the  provincials  to  hold ;  but  the  lat 
ter  succeeded  in  maintaining  possession, 
and  in  returning  more  than  they  received. 
The  Grand  battery  remained,  impregna 
ble,  in  the  hands  of  the  colonists,  to  the 
end  of  the  siege. 

The  coup  de  main  suggested  by  Shirley 
having  been  now  abandoned,  there  was 
every  prospect  of  a  long  siege  ;  and  Pep 
perell  accordingly  made  preparations  for 
a  systematic  attack.  He  be^an  erectini»; 

J  O  o 

batteries  at  various  points,  from  which 
he  might  direct  his  fire  upon  the  town. 


One  was  constructed  on  Green  hill,  fifteen 
hundred  yards  from  the  northwestern 
wall ;  another  in  the  same  direction,  some 
six  hundred  yards  nearer ;  and  a  third 
within  seven  hundred  yards  of  the  town. 
These  batteries  were  composed  of  brush 
wood,  fagots,  and  turf,  which  naturally 
suggested  themselves  to  the  militia,  who 
made  no  pretension  to  skill  in  military 
art,  and  who  in  fact  ridiculed  its  techni 
calities.  It  was  a  labor  of  great  difficulty 
to  land  the  cannon  and  place  them  in  po 
sition.  In  consequence  of  the  boggy  na 
ture  of  the  soil,  the  Avheels  of  the  gun- 
carriages  sank  deeply  into  the  morasses  ; 
and  it  was  found  necessary  to  transport 
them  upon  sledges,  which  were  construct 
ed  by  a  New-Hampshire  colonel,  of  the 
name  of  Messerve.  The  men,  having  har 
nessed  themselves  to  these  by  means  of 
straps  drawn  over  their  shoulders,dragged 
them,  as  they  sank  knee-deep  into  the 
mud,  to  the  batteries.  For  a  full  fort 
night,  by  day  and  by  night,  they  were 
thus  occupied  in  this  fatiguing  work  of 
getting  the  cannons  into  place. 

The  provincials  were  much  annoyed 
by  a  strong  battery  of  the  enemy,  built 
on  an  island  situated  at  the  opening  of 
the  harbor,  and  facing  the  town.  This 
island  battery  was  keeping  up  constantly 
a  brisk  fire  upon  Pepperell's  works,  and 
he  was  of  course  anxious  to  silence  its 
guns  at  his  earliest  chance.  Commodore 
Warren,  had  soon  discovered  the  impor 
tance  of  carrying  it,  and  proposed  to  aid 
Pepperell  in  the  undertaking.  Councils- 
of-war,  on  land  and  on  shipboard,  were 
held  from  day  to  day,  to  devise  some  plan 
for  this  purpose.  The  commodore  Avas 


UOLONIAL.J 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  POMEROYS. 


19 


for  attempting  it  at  once ;  but  Pepperell, 
more  cautious  and  prudent,  insisted  upon 
waiting  until  his  battering  cannon  and 
mortars  were  ready  to  play  on  the  town. 
The  attempt,  therefore,  was  postponed ; 
while  the  provincials,  in  the  meantime, 
busied  themselves  in  completing  and  fur 
nishing  their  batteries,  and  bringing  them 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  walls  of  the  cit^ 
adel. 

The  two  commanders  now  de 
termined  to  send  a  flag  of  truce  to 
the  town,  with  a  summons  to  surrender. 
To  the  demand  of  the  English  the  French 
returned  the  defiant  answer  that  their 
reply  would  be  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 
After  a  momentary  cessation  of  hostili 
ties,  during  this  brief  parley,  the  firing 
was  renewed  with  greater  vigor  than  ev 
er  ;  and  the  provincials,  with  the  addition 
of  a  fourth  fascine  battery,  within  two 
hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  the  west  gate 
of  the  town,  were  now  enabled  to  send 
such  a  shower  of  balls  and  shells  against 
the  walls  as  to  do  the  enemy  great  mis 
chief. 

Warren  now  urged  again  his  favorite 
project  of  an  attack  upon  the  island  bat 
tery.  The  war-council,  however,  did  not 
approve  of  it,  considering  it  too  hazard 
ous,  although  Pepperell  favored  the  com 
modore's  proposition.  The  objections  of 
the  army  were  overruled,  and,  for  several 
nights  in  succession,  boats  were  got  ready 
for  an  attack ;  but  it  was  found  imprac 
ticable,  in  consequence  of  the  weather. 
The  two  commanders  were  in  constant 
communication,  and  for  the  most  part  in 
harmony  in  regard  to  the  operations  of 
the  siege.  Councils-of-war  were  daily  held 


May  9. 


on  sea  and  land,  and  the  results  of  their 
deliberations  communicated  through  Pep 
perell  and  Warren. 

It  was  finally  agreed  that  the 
town  of  Louisburg  be  attacked  by 
storm,  in  the  night,  with  all  the  vigor 
possible.  Before  the  night  set  in,  how 
ever,  it  was  found  advisable  to  postpone 
the  assault, "  inasmuch  as  there  appears  a 
great  dissatisfaction  in  many  of  the  offi 
cers  and  soldiers  at  the  designed  attack 
of  the  town  by  storm  this  night ;  and  as 
it  may  be  attended  with  very  ill  conse 
quences  if  it  should  not  be  executed  with 
the  greatest  vigor  whenever  attempted, 
the  said  attack  of  the  town  be  deferred 
for  the  present,  or  until  the  cannon  are 
all  mounted  and  in  full  play,  and  the 
enemy  more  reduced  by  the  siege." 

"Louisburg  is  an  exceedingly  strong 
place,"  wrote  Major  Pomeroy,  the  gun 
smith,  to  his  wife,  "  and  seems  impregna 
ble.  It  looks  as  if  our  campaign  would 
last  long ;  but  I  am  willing  to  stay  till 
God's  time  comes  to  deliver  the  city  into 
our  hands."  The  good  dame  answered 
in  the  same  spirit  of  patriotic  and  pious 
confidence  :  "  Suffer  no  anxious  thought 
to  rest  in  your  mind  about  me.  The 
whole  town  is  much  engaged  with  con 
cern  for  the  expedition,  how  Providence 
will  order  the  affair,  for  which  religious 
meetings  every  week  are  maintained.  I 
leave  you  in  the  hand  of  God." 

The  spirit  of  the  Pomeroys  was  that 
of  the  whole  provincial  force ;  and  the 
men  went  on,  day  by  day  and  night  by 
night,  toiling  without  a  murmur  and  with 
a  pious  resignation,  waiting  for  the  "  com 
ing  of  God's  good  time."  Their  labors 


20 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Alvl     I 


were  heavy  and  their  sufferings  great, 
but  their  energies  never  flagged  and  their 
spirits  were  equal  to  every  trial.  With 
out  regular  tents,  they  were  obliged  to 
house  themselves  under  temporary  erec 
tions  of  turf  and  brushwood,  and  to  sleep 
upon  the  ground.  The  weather,  fortu 
nately,  was  unusually  dry ;  but,  notwith 
standing,  the  men  suffered  from  disease 
in  consequence  of  their  severe  hardships 
and  exposure.  Pepperell  found  so  many 
of  his  men  disabled,  that  he  was  forced 
to  send  to  the  governor  of  Massachusetts 
for  another  reinforcement  of  a  thousand 
men,  for  the  bringing  of  whom  he  had 
despatched  fourteen  transports,  which  he 
took  occasion  to  load  with  a  number  of 
the  prisoners  that  had  been  taken. 

The  provincials  continued  their  labors, 
adding  battery  to  battery,  and  keeping 
up  a  brisk  fire  night  and  day  from  the 
works  already  erected.  "  Yester 
day,"  writes  Pepperell,  "  we  gave 
the  west  gate  about  one  hundred  shot 
from  our  fascine  battery,"  and  concludes 
hopefully :  "  I  hope  that,  under  God,  we 
shall  soon  be  masters  of  this  island,  and 
that  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  writing 
you  from  within  the  walls  of  Louisburg." 
He  had  now  raised  his  fourth  fascine  bat 
tery,  termed  Titcomb's,  in  honor  of  one 
of  the  bravest  and  most  daring  of  the 
New-England  captains.  Having  mount 
ed  this  with  some  of  the  heavy  French 
guns  taken  from  the  Grand  battery,  the 
provincials  were  enabled  to  open  a  de 
structive  fire  upon  the  town.  As  they 
were  only  distant  two  hundred  and  fifty 
yards,  they  could  point  their  guns  with 
such  effect,  that  they  succeeded  in  de- 


May  16, 


stroying  the  western  gate,  with  its  draw 
bridge,  and  making  a  small  breach  in  the 
walls.  The  soldiers  on  both  sides,  on  this 
occasion,  were  brought  into  each  other's 
view,  and  so  closely,  that  they  passed 
mocking  compliments,  with  invitations  to 
take  a  glass  of  wine,  and  exchanged  vol 
leys  with  their  muskets,  by  which  some 
Frenchmen  were  toppled  off  dead  from 
the  walls. 

The  enemy  did  not  appear  to  be  doing 
as  much  damage  to  the  besiegers  as  the 
besiegers  seemed  to  be  doing  to  them 
selves,  for  the  latter  reported  several  as 
wounded  by  the  "  splitting"  of  their  own 
cannon.  Pepperell  was  apparently  very 
well  satisfied  with  the  progress  of  his  op 
erations,  and  wrote  :  "  We  have  had  con 
siderable  success  hitherto,  having  cleared 
three  forty-twos  at  the  Grand  battery, 
and  have  done  some  execution,  lodging 
several  shot  in  the  citadel ;  the  mortars 
and  cohorns  throw  into  the  towrn  in  most 
instances."  Warren,  however,  was  not 
so  well  satisfied  with  the  state  of  affairs, 
and  complained  of  the  apparent  delay. 
Still,  the  two  commanders  remained  on 
the  most  friendly  terms  with  each  other, 
and  we  find  Pepperell  thanking  the  com 
modore  for  the  "  claret  and  lemons,  and 
repeated  kind  offers." 

Warren  took  care  to  keep  his  squad 
ron  busy;  and,  with  an  occasional  capture 
of  an  enemy's  privateer  and  some  dozen 
merchantmen,  and  a  bombardment  of  two 
neighboring  French  settlements,  his  ac 
tivity  told  to  a  good  purpose.  Pepperell 
went  on  in  his  usual  patient  way  with 
the  batteries,  to  which,  having  found  thir 
ty  cannon  in  the  east  harbor  at  low-water 


OG 


COLONIAL.] 


A  TRIUMPH. 


21 


mark,  he  added  another  near  the  lightr 
house.  Here  he  hoisted  an  English  flag, 
and  sent  a  regiment  to  guard  the  posi 
tion.  The  French  crossed  over  in  boats 
from  the  town  opposite,  and  attempted 
to  dislodge  them,  but  were  repulsed  with 
loss. 

Warren  wa-s  getting  more  and  more 
impatient,  and  continued  to  urge  Pepper- 
ell  daily  by  letter  to  more  active  opera 
tions,  and  particularly  to  an  attack  on 
the  island  battery.  The  latter  answered 
these  suggestions  courteously,  but  never 
failed  to  justify  his  own  conduct.  "  It  is 
my  great  concern,"  he  says.  May  17th, 
"  that  our  progress  against  our  enemies 
on  shore  is  so  slow ;  but  when  the  diffi 
culties  of  attacking  the  island  battery 
are  duly  considered,  there  being  but  criti 
cal  moments  in  which  it  can  possibly  be 
done  with  hopes  of  success ;  also  the  diffi 
culty  of  scaling  walls,  without  a  breach, 
by  undisciplined  troops ;  of  landing  our 
cannon  in  so  bad  a  harbor;  of  getting 
them  conveyed  on  such  bad  grounds  in 
the  face  of  our  enemy's  fire,  while  we  can 
not  annoy  them  at  all ;  and  a  general  ill 
ness  through  the  army :  these  and  such 
like  things  considered,  I  hope  your  pa 
tience  will  not  tire.  The  probability  of 
the  speedy  arrival  of  a  French  sea-force 
I  duly  consider,  but  I  hope  the  best,  and 
nothing  in  my  power  shall  be  wanting 
toward  the  greatest  despatch  and  most 
vigorous  attack." 

Warren  had  proposed  another  plan  for 
the  attack  on  the  island  battery,  which 
Pepperell  laid  before  his  council-of-war. 
The  provincials  did  not  seem  to  approve 
of  it,  as  the  commodore  wished  to  bring 


in  his  squadron  and  trust  chiefly  to  the 
naval  forces  for  the  enterprise.  The 
troops  were  desirous,  if  honor  was  to  be 
won,  that  they  should  secure  for  them 
selves  a  fair  share  of  it.  Pepperell,  ac 
cordingly,  went  on  with  his  systematic 
siege,  and  seemed  satisfied  with  its  prog 
ress.  "  We  have  continued,"  he  says, "  our 
fire  on  the  enemy  from  the  west-gate  bat 
tery,  which  has  shattered  the  wall  con 
siderably;  but  we  were  so  unfortunate 

last  night  as  to  split  one  of  the 

f    +  ;JL»  May  20, 

lorty-two  pounders. 

The  enemy  about  this  time  enjoyed  a 
small  triumph,  in  the  arrival  of  a  Bor 
deaux  merchantman,  laden  with  provis 
ions,  which  succeeded,  under  the  cover 
of  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  in  escaping 
the  vigilance  of  Warren  and  his  cruisers, 
and  reaching  the  harbor  of  Louisburg  in 
safety.  At  the  same  time  there  arrived 
a  less  welcome  visiter  in  the  shape  of  a 
fire-ship,  which  Pepperell,  taking  advan 
tage  of  the  darkness  of  the  night,  had 
sent  in,  and  which  did  considerable  dam 
age  to  the  enemy's  shipping. 

Commodore  Warren,  however,  won  the 
greatest  triumph  of  all,  having  taken  a 
French  man-of-war  of  sixty-four  guns, 
manned  by  six  hundred  men,  and  laden 
with  military  stores.  The  capture  of  the 
Vigilante,  as  she  was  named,  produced  a 
burst  of  joy  in  the  army,  and  animated 
the  soldiers  with  fresh  courage  to  perse 
vere.  Pepperell  himself  seemed  now  to 
tire  of  the  slowness  of  his  own  operations, 
and  proposed  a  general  consultation,  in 
order  to  determine  upon  a  speedy  and 
vigorous  attack  with  the  whole  united 

o 

forces,  both  sea  and  land.     Warren  re- 


22 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    I. 


ceived  this  suggestion  with  a  hearty  wel 
come,  and,  with  the  advice  of  his  council, 
proposed  a  plan  for  an  attack  upon  the 
town. 

It  was  proposed  that  all  his  majesty's 
ships,  and  all  the  colonial  cruisers  except 
two,  with  the  schooners  and  transports, 
should  sail  into  the  harbor  and  attack  the 
town  and  batteries  with  the  utmost  vig 
or,  "with  his  majesty's  ships  in  such  order 
of  battle  as  shall  be  agreed  on,  and  that 
all  the  unarmed  vessels  anchor  in  the 
northeast  harbor,  out  of  gunshot."  It  was, 
moreover,  proposed  that  sixteen  hundred 
of  Pepperell's  men  should  go  on  board 
the  vessels  of  the  squadron,  to  aid  in  the 
attack,  while  the  marines  should  be  land 
ed  under  the  command  of  M'Donald,  their 
colonel,  who  was  to  lead  the  attack  on 
shore,  and  be  sustained  by  the  provincial 
troops. 

This  proposition  was  by  no  means  wel 
come  to  Pepperell  and  his  army,  as  its 
whole  scope  was  to  place  the  provincials 
in  a  very  subordinate  position,  and  de 
prive  them  of  all  chance  of  glory  in  the 
proposed  undertaking. 

Pepperell  and  his  council  had  other 
reasons  to  urge.  The  Indians,  they  con 
tended,  might  come  in  upon  their  backs, 
while  the  troops  were  on  board  the  ships, 
and  attack  what  forces  remained  in  the 
camp  and  hospitals.  Moreover,  they  de 
clared  that  the  army  was  so  reduced  by 
sickness,  that  the  soldiers  were  unfitted 
for  such  service  as  proposed ;  and  that  if 
the  plan  should  miscarry,  as  it  probably 
would  from  this  inefficiency,  the  result 
would  be  disastrous  to  the  colonies.  Pep 
perell's  council  then  proposed  that  a  gen 


eral  attack  be  made  upon  the  town  by 
the  land  and  naval  forces  forthwith ;  that 
five  hundred  men  be  impressed  from  the 
cruisers  and  transports,  to  embark  in  the 
Vigilante  (the  vessel  captured  from  the 
French),  and  that  the  other  men-of-war 
follow  her  into  the  harbor ;  that  five  hun 
dred  provincials  put  off  in  boats  from  the 
Grand  battery  at  a  given  signal,  to  land 
and  scale  the  walls  in  front  of  the  town, 
under  cover  of  the  guns  of  the  squadron 
and  the  land-batteries ;  that  the  marines 
and  sailors  of  the  fleet  should  put  off  and 
join  them;  that  five  hundred  of  the  troops 
should  scale  the  walls  at  the  southeast 
part  of  the  town,  and  that  the  same  num 
ber  should  make  a  breach  at  the  western 
gate,  leaving  half  a  thousand  disposable 
men  to  aid  any  party  that  might  need 
their  services. 

This  plan  of  Pepperell's  council  was 
not  sent  at  once  to  Warren,  in  conse 
quence  of  a  dense  fog.  The  commodore 
became  impatient,  and  wrote,  asking  why 
he  had  not  received  an  answer  to  the 
proposition  sent  two  days  be 
fore  ;  and,  after  reiterating  some 
of  its  details,  peevishly  remarked,  "  For 
God's  sake,  let  us  do  something,  and  not 
waste  our  time  in  indolence  !" 

The  provincials  began  to  sympathize 
with  Warren's  anxiety  to  do  something, 
and  the  council-of-war  proposed  that  the 
general  should  go  on  board  the  commo 
dore's  ship,  and  try  to  decide  upon  some 
mutual  plan  for  immediate  action.  War 
ren,  although  he  had  been  reinforced  by 
several  additional  men-of-war*  which  had 
joined  him  from  the  various  American 
and  West-Indian  stations,  was  fearful  that 


May  26, 


COLONIAL.] 


A  REPULSE. 


23 


the  arrival  of  the  French  fleet,  daily  ex 
pected,  would  give  him  so  much  to  do  in 
looking  after  it,  that  he  would  no  longer 
have  it  in  his  power  to  aid  in  the  attack 
upon  Louisburg.  He  therefore  pressed 
this  enterprise  with  all  his  energies.  As 
a  preliminary  to  the  general  assault,  War 
ren  thought  it  necessary  to  silence  the 
island  battery,  which  guarded  the  ap 
proach  to  the  town,  and  was  seriously  in 
the  way  of  his  ships  making  an  attack. 
He  accordingly  prevailed  upon  Pepperell 
to  make  an  attempt  on  the  island,  though 
the  army  generally  was  averse  to  it,  as 
too  hazardous,  and  as  likely  to  result  in 
disappointment. 

A  volunteer  party  of  provincials  was 
now  enlisted  for  the  purpose,  and  started 
with  scaling-ladders  to  make  the  assault. 
Although  it  was  in  the  darkness  of  the 


night,  and  every  precaution  was  taken 
to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  enemy,  the 
garrison  of  the  island  battery  caught  the 
alarm,  and  began  to  fire  upon  the  boats 
before  they  reached  the  shore.  On  the 
provincials  now  attempting  to  land,  they 
got  so  wetted  in  the  heavy  surf  that  many 
of  the  firelocks  could  not  be  discharged, 
and  some  of  the  party  were  driven  back 
at  once  in  confusion  to  their  boats ;  oth 
ers  succeeded  in  making  a  stand  on  the 
shore  for  awhile,  but  were,  after  an  hour's 
hard  struggle,  compelled  to  yield  to  the 
French.  Sixty  were  killed,  and  no  less 
than  a  hundred  and  sixteen  taken  pris 
oners.  "  Providence  seemed  remarkably 
to  frown  upon  the  affair,"  as  one  of  the 
pious  provincials  wrote,  in  giving  an  ac 
count  of  this  melancholy  disaster  to  his 
friends  in  New  England. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Exultant  Shouts  of  the  Enemy. — Pepperell  discouraged. — A  more  Vigorous  Push. — A  General  Attack  proposed. — Opposed 
by  the  Admiral. — A  French  Deserter  reports  the  Enemy  in  Good  Spirits. — A  Plan  to  dash  them. — A  Successful  Ruse. 
— An  Attack  upon  the  Island  Battery  again  proposed. — Opposed  hy  Pepperell. — The  Bombardment  of  the  Town 
brisker  than  ever. — The  General  Assault  decided  upon. — The  "  Three  Smokes  and  Dutch  Flag." — Great  Preparations. 
— Louisburg  suffering  more  than  ever. — The  Attempt  begun. — Stirring  Addresses  from  the  General  and  the  Commo 
dore. — The  Enemy  sends  out  a  Flag  of  Truce. — Proposes  to  capitulate. — Terms  of  Surrender  agreed  upon. — Pepperell 
and  Warren  disputing  about  the  Keys. — The  General  triumphs. — Louisburg  entered. — Its  Strength  and  its  Weakness. 
— Glorification. — Dinner. — Parson  Moody  agreeably  disappoints  his  Friends  with  a  Short  Grace. — Pepperell  and  War 
ren  Joint  Governors. — The  French  Flag  hoisted  as  a  Decoy. — Fat  Prizes. — Glorification  and  Thanksgiving  in  New 
England. — Ditto  in  Old  England. — The  King  delighted. — The  Admiral  promoted,  and  Pepperell  made  a  Baronet,  the 
first  and  last  in  New  England. — The  Effect  of  the  Victory. 


THAT  night's  repulse  of  the  attack  on 
the  island  battery  was  a  sad  blow  to  the 
provincials,  who,  as  the  morning  dawned 
upon  them  in  their  camp,  heard  the  ex 
ulting  shouts  of  the  enemy  over  the  first 
success  they  could  claim  since  the  begin 
ning  of  the  sieg3.  Although  Pepperell 


had  made  fair  progress  in  investing  the 
citadel  with  his  batteries,  by  which  he 
had  succeeded  in  doing  much  damage 
to  the  town,  and  had  beaten  back  the 
French  on  every  sortie  from  their  walls, 
he  was,  after  the  defeat  of  the  previous 
night,  evidently  somewhat  disheartened. 


24 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


"It  is  now,"  says  Pepperell 
himself,  "the  twenty-ninth  day 
since  the  army  invested  Louisburg  and 
drove  in  the  inhabitants.  Five  fascine 
batteries  have  been  erected,  with  hard 
service  to  the  men,  who  have  drawn  the 
cannon  and  mounted  them ;  the  enemy 
has  been  distressed,  some  breaches  have 
been  made  in  their  walls,"  and  it  is  not 
doubted  but  that  "  we  shall  soon  reduce 
the  circular  battery.  Five  unsuccessful 
attempts  have  been  made  upon  the  island 
battery,  in  the  last  of  which  one  hundred 
and  eighty-nine  men  and  many  boats 
were  lost.  Scouts  have  been  sent  out, 
and  have  succeeded  in  destroying  the 
enemy's  settlements  and  in  preventing 
surprise.  Fatigue,  however,  has  brought 
on  disease,  and  left  not  more  than  two 
thousand  one  hundred  men  fit  for  duty, 
six  hundred  of  whom  are  gone  in  pursuit 
of  two  large  bodies  of  French  and  In 
dians  eastward  and  westward  of  the  pro 
vincial  camp." 

This  was  the  not  very  encouraging 
state  of  things,  when  Pepperell  resolved 
upon  a  more  vigorous  push.  He  was 
anxious  now  for  a  consultation  with  War 
ren,  but  was  prevented  for  several  days 
by  the  fog  from  going  on  board  the  com 
modore's  ship.  He  finally,  however,  suc 
ceeded  in  reaching  him,  and  proposed  a 
joint  attack  on  the  town.  Warren,  how 
ever,  was  not  now  disposed  to  concur  in 
this  proposition,  although  it  had  origi 
nally  been  made  by  him.  He  thought 
it  better  not  to  send  his  ships  into  the 
harbor  until  further  execution  had  been 
done  against  the  enemy's  batteries. 

Pepperell,  in  the  meantime,  continued 


June  4i 


to  do  his  best  in  pushing  on  the  siege. 
He,  however,  was  in  great  straits  for  want 
of  ammunition  and  effective  men.  In  his 
despatch  to  Governor  Shirley,  he  says: 
"Powder  and  balls  are  nearly  used  up, 
oil  account  of  which  many  of  our  guns 
are  silent.  We  have  one  thousand  five 
hundred  sick,  and  a  reinforcement  there 
fore  of  three  thousand  men  is  absolutely 
necessary."  The  French,  on  the  other 
hand,  seemed  to  be  in  excellent  condition, 
and  by  no  means  discouraged  as  to  their 
ability  to  hold  out  against  the  besiegers. 

A  French  soldier  deserts,  and, 
reaching  the  provincial  camp, 
reports  that  there  are  within  the  garri 
son  three  thousand  six  hundred  that  bear 
arms,  seven  or  eight  hundred  of  wThom. 
are  soldiers ;  that  they  have  provisions 
to  last  till  October,  and  considerable  am 
munition  ;  that  the  enemy  judged  vari 
ously  the  provincial  forces  from  one  thou 
sand  to  four  thousand  live  hundred  men ; 
that  they  have  burst  one  of  their  mortars 
and  several  cannon;  that  they  are  pre 
pared  to  receive  an  attack  every  night 
in  all  parts  of  the  town ;  and  that  if  their 
expected  ships  are  taken  they  will  have 
to  surrender,  but  they  do  not  expect  the 
British  ships  will  venture  into  the  har 
bor. 

Commodore  Warren, learning  from  this 
deserter,  who  was  sent  to  him  by  Pepper 
ell,  how  well  the  French  kept  up  their 
spirits,  resolved  upon  a  plan  to  try  and 
dash  them  somewhat.  The  inhabitants 
of  Louisburg  had  not  yet  heard  of  the 
capture  of  the  Vigilante,  although  she 
had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  English  for 
nearly  three  weeks.  Warren  thought  if 


COLONIAL.] 


A  KUSE. 


25 


this  intelligence  could  be  conveyed  to 
the  French  commander,  it  would  natu 
rally  have  the  effect  of  lowering  his  hopes 
of  a  continued  successful  resistance.  The 
commodore,  accordingly,  pretending  that 
he  had  heard  of  the  cruel  treatment  of 
some  of  the  provincials  held  by  the  ene 
my's  garrison  as  prisoners,  suggested  to 
the  former  commander  of  the  Vigilante, 
who  was  now  a  captive  of  the  English, 
to  write  to  Duchambon,  the  governor  of 
Louisburg,  and  interpose  in  their  behalf. 
The  Frenchman  readily  complied,  and 
prepared  this  letter : — 

"ON  BOARD  THE  VlGILANTE,  WHERE  I  AM  A  PRIS 
ONER,  BEFORE  LOUISBURG,  June  8,  1745. 

"  Herewith  I  send  you,  sir,  the  copy 
of  a  letter  written  me  by  Mr.  Warren, 
commander  of  a  squadron,  who  informs 
me  that  the  French  have  treated  some 
English  prisoners  with  cruelty  and  inhu 
manity.  I  can  scarcely  believe  it,  since 
it  is  the  intention  of  the  king  our  master 
that  they  should  be  well  treated  on  ev 
ery  occasion.  You  are  to  know  that  on 
the  20th  of  May  I  was  taken  by  the 
squadron,  as  I  was  about  to  enter  your 
harbor;  and  it  is  fitting  you  should  be 
informed  that  the  gentlemen,  the  captains 
and  officers,  treat  us  not  as  prisoners,  but 
as  their  good  friends,  and  take  a  very 
particular  care  that  my  officers  and  equi 
page  should  want  nothing.  To  me  it 
seems  just  you  should  treat  them  in  the 
same  manner,  and  see  that  those  be  pun 
ished  who  act  otherwise,  and  offer  any 
insult  to  those  whom  you  may  make 
prisoners. 

"  Yours,  &c. 

UDE  LA  MAISON  FORTE." 


To  carry  out  his  ruse  more  effectually, 
Warren  selected  one  of  his  officers,  who 
understood  the  French  language,  Captain 
Macdonald,  and  intrusted  the  letter  to 
him  to  deliver.  This  officer  was  accord 
ingly  sent  to  Louisburg  under  a  flag  of 
truce,  and  was  duly  received  by  the  gov 
ernor,  who  was  greatly  startled  by  the 
letter,  which  gave  him  the  first  intelli 
gence  of  the  capture  of  the  Vigilante. 
Captain  Macdonald,  who  communicated 
with  the  French  officers  only  through  an 
interpreter,  was  supposed  to  be  ignorant 
of  their  language ;  and  accordingly  they 
freely  expressed  their  thoughts  and  opin 
ions  in  their  native  tongue,  without  the 
least  fear  of  berno-  understood.  The  Eno;- 

o  o 

lish  officer  was  thus  enabled  to  bring 
back  to  Warren  a  faithful  account  of  the 
fright  occasioned  by  this  untoward  news 
of  the  capture  of  that  large  man-of-war, 
the  Vigilante,  the  safe  arrival  of  which 
they  had  been  expecting,  with  supplies 
of  men,  provisions,  and  ammunition. 

The  French  were  further  disheartened 
by  learning  of  a  large  accession  to  the 
British  squadron,  and  disappointed  at  the 
delay  of  their  own  expected  fleet.  Pep- 
perell,  too,  had  been  reinforced,  by  a 
timely  arrival  of  recruits  and  ammuni 
tion,  not  only  from  the  neighboring  Britr 
ish  settlements  of  Canseau  and  Annapo 
lis,  but  from  Massachusetts  ;  and  was  thus 
enabled  to  keep  up,  by  a  more  effectual 
fire  from  his  batteries,  the  lively  appre 
hensions  of  the  French,  first  aroused  by 
a  knowledge  of  the  fate  of  the  Vigilante, 

By  a  council-of-war  held  in  the 
squadron,  it  was  determined  that 
it  was  not  practicable  or  advisable  to  at- 


Juiie  8. 


26 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


tack  the  town  of  Louisburg,  without  the 
island  battery  should  be  first  taken.  It 
was  therefore  proposed  that,  if  proper 
pilots  could  be  found,  the  ships  should 
be  anchored  within  half  a  cable's  length 
of  the  island,  and  General  Pepperell  hav 
ing  supplied  the  commodore  with  live 
hundred  provincials,  that  these,  together 
with  the  sailors  and  marines  of  the  squad 
ron,  should  land  under  cover  of  the  ships, 
and  attack  the  island  fortress. 

Pepperell,  on  being  consulted,  did  not 
altogether  approve  of  this  plan,  being 
especially  opposed  to  the  attack  on  the 
island  by  embarking  the  troops  in  the 
whale-boats,  which  a  few  musketrballs 
might  sink.  He  therefore  urged  again 
his  former  proposition  of  a  general  attack 
upon  the  town.  As  for  the  island  bai> 
tery,  the  squadron,  he  suggested,  might 
bombard  it  from  the  outside,  and  be  safe 
to  retreat.  Pepperell  sent  accordingly 
three  pilots  from  his  own  transports,  to 
take  charge  of  the  ships  and  bring  them 
to  a  safe  anchorage  as  near  as  possible  to 
the  point  of  attack. 

While  this  plan  of  Pepperell  is  being 
considered,  the  provincials  set  to  work, 
with  renewed  energy,  in  their  bombard 
ment  of  Louisburg,  and  threw  into  the 
citadel  a  continued  shower  of  red-hot 
balls.  The  French,  too,  were  not  back 
ward,  and  returned  the  fire  with  great 
spirit.  They  succeeded  in  planting  six 
cannon,  during  the  night,  to  protect  the 
west  gate,  which  wras  the  chief  object  of 
attack ;  but  the  provincials  had  the  good 
fortune  to  silence  them  early  the  next 
morning. 

Warren  finally  consented  to  bring  in 


his  ships,  in  accordance  with  Pepperell's 
plan ;  and  it  was  agreed  that,  as  soon  as 
the  wind  wras  fair  for  the  squadron  to 
sail  into  the  harbor,  the  attack  upon  Lou 
isburg  should  be  made.  The  commodore 
was  to  hoist  a  Dutch  flag  under  his  pen 
nant  at  the  maintop-gallant  masthead,  as 
the  signal  of  his  having  weighed  anchor ; 
and  Pepperell  was  to  answer,  when  he 
should  be  ready,  with  "  three  smokes." — 
"  When  I  hoist  a  Dutch  flag,"  says  Warren 
in  his  communication, "  you  should  march 
toward  the  town,  drums  beating  and  col 
ors  flying ;  wThen  I  hoist  the  red  flag  on 
the  flagstaff,  you  may  then  be  assured  I 
shall  be  in  and  begin  the  attack  in  about 
half  an  hour." 

Pepperell  was  as  eager  as  the  commo 
dore,  and  was  making  ready  with  all  pos 
sible  despatch.  He  ordered  all  the  trans 
ports  out  to  join  the  squadron,  the  boats 
to  be  fitted  with  oars  and  ladders,  and 
sent  to  Warren  a  supply  of  cohorns  and 
shells,  and  what  oakum  and  moss  could 
be  collected.  He  got  ready  three  more 
forty- twos  to  play  upon  the  circular  bat 
tery,  and  prevent  it  from  annoying  the 
ships.  He  was  keeping  up  a  constant 
fire  from  his  lighthouse  battery  upon  the 
island  fortress,  and  had  succeeded  in  al 
most  silencing  it.  His  other  batteries, 
too,  were  kept  busy;  and  Louisburg  was 
evidently  suffering  more  than  ever  it  had 
done  during  the  whole  six  wreeks  of  the 
siege. 

Everything  wras  now  in  readi- 

f      ±1  lee          1    »    rn         Jlllie  !4' 

ness  lor  the  genera  I "  push.     1  he 
provincial  vessels  had  sailed  out  of  the 
bay  to  join  the  squadron  ;  the  brushwood 
had  been  gathered  and  placed  on  the 


COLOlSriAL.J 


SURRENDER  OF  LOUISBURG. 


27 


June  15. 


summit  of  Green  hill,  preparatory  to  the 
raising  the  signal  of  "three  smokes ;"  and 
all  was  now  eager  expectation  of  the  com 
ing  event. 

Warren  hoisted  his  Dutch  flag; 
Pepperell  answered  with  his 
"three  smokes"  from  Green  hill;  War 
ren  replied  with  his  red  flag ;  and  soon 
the  fleet  sailed  in  before  the  wind,  and 
anchored  in  a  line  near  the  town.  The 
commodore  pulled  off  at  once  for  the 
shore,  and,  meeting  the  general,  they 
were  received  by  the  troops  on  parade. 
Both  Pepperell  and  Warren,  having  ad 
dressed  them  in  a  few  stirring  words,  pre 
pared  to  assume  their  several  positions, 
and  fulfil  the  duties  of  the  day.  Before 
they  had  parted,  however,  it  being  late 
in  the  afternoon,  a  flag  of  truce  was  seen 
advancing  from  the  west  gate  of  the  gar 
rison.  The  bombardment  ceased  at  once, 
and  the  captain  of  the  foremost  of  the 
provincial  batteries  approaching  half  way, 
met  the  French  officer  who  bore  the  flag, 
and  received  from  him  a  proposal  for  the 
suspension  of  hostilities,  in  order  to  give 
the  garrison  an  opportunity  for  the  con 
sideration  of  terms  of  capitulation.  Pep 
perell  and  Warren  sent  back  their  answer 
as  follows,  having  written  it  in  the  camp 
as  late  as  half-past  eight  at  night: — 

"June  loth. 

"  GOVERNOR  DUCHAMBON  : 

"We  have  yours  of  this  date,  propo 
sing  a  suspension  of  hostilities  for  such 
a  time  as  shall  be  necessary  for  you  to 
determine  upon  the  conditions  of  deliver 
ing  up  the  garrison  of  Louisburg,  which 
arrived  at  a  happy  juncture  to  prevent 
the  effusion  of  Christian  blood,  as  we 


were  together,  and  had  just  determined 
upon  a  general  attack.  We  shall  com 
ply  with  your  desire  until  eight  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning ;  and  if  in  the  mean 
time  you  surrender  yourselves  prisoners- 
of-war,  you  may  depend  upon  humane 
and  generous  treatment. 

"  We  are  your  humble  servants, 
"PETER  WARREN, 
" WILLIAM  PEPPERELL" 

Next  morning,  Duchambon  sent  back 
his  terms  for  the  surrender  of  Louisburg, 
but  they  were  rejected  by  Warren  and 
Pepperell,  who  insisted  upon  conditions 
less  favorable  to  the  enemy.  These  were 
accordingly  accepted  by  the  French,  who, 
however,  demanded  that  their  troops 
might  be  allowed  to  march  out  of  the 
garrison  with  their  muskets  and  bayo 
nets,  and  colors  flying.  This  privilege 
was  freely  granted  by  Pepperell  and  War 
ren,  who  thought  it  not  worth  while  to 
"stickle  at  trifles."  Terms  of  capitula 
tion  having  been  agreed  upon,  hostages 
delivered,  and  all  preliminaries  arranged, 
the  two  commanders  prepared  to  take 
possession.  There  now  sprang  up  a  feel 
ing  of  rivalry  between  Pepperell  and  War 
ren,  as  to  who  should  enter  Louisburg 
first  and  receive  the  keys  of  the  fortress. 
Both  seemed  anxious  for  awhile  to  frus 
trate  the  other ;  and  each  wrote  to  Du 
chambon,  demanding  that  the  town  should 
be  given  up  to  him.  Pepperell,  to  whom 
probably  precedence  belonged,  wrote  tc 
the  French  governor  that  he  would  send 
Colonel  Bradstreet  with  a  detachment  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  to 

r  t!  ^    Juue  17t 

take  possession  ol  the  town  and 


28 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    I. 


June  16* 


forts,  to  whom  he  desired  that  the  keys 
be  delivered. 

Warren,  having  stolen  a  march  upon 
his  rival,  had  previously  written  to  Du- 
chambon,  demanding  that  the 
keys  of  the  town  be  delivered 
to  such  officers  and  troops  as  he  should 
appoint.  The  French  governor  seemed 
inclined  rather  to  yield  to  the  commo 
dore,  who  probably  passed  with  him  as 
the  superior  officer.  Duchambon  accord 
ingly  showed  Pepperell's  letter  to  War 
ren,  who  was  so  angered  by  its  purport, 
that  he  wrote  reproachfully  to  the  pro 
vincial  general,  telling  him  he  was  sorry 
to  find  by  his  "  letter  a  kind  of  jealousy 
which  I  thought  you  would  never  con 
ceive  of  me,  after  my  letter  to  you  of 
last  night.  And  give  me  leave  to  tell 
you  I  don't  want  at  this  time  to  acquire 
reputation,  as  I  flatter  myself  mine  has 
been  pretty  well  established  long  before." 

After  this  little  spirt  of  rivalry  between 
the  two  commanders,  the  affair  was  final 
ly  adjusted  by  Warren  conceding  to  Pep- 
perell — what  fairly  belonged  to  him  as 
commander-in-chief  of  the  expedition  — 
the  right  of  receiving  the  keys.  The 
French  fortress  was  now  delivered 
up ;  and,  as  the  troops  entered,  they 
were  so  struck  with  the  strength  of  the 
fortifications,  that  they  considered  their 
own  success  as  a  marvel  of  God's  good 
ness.  "  God,"  wrote  an  eye-witness, "  has 
gone  out  of  the  way  of  his  common  prov 
idence,  in  a  remarkable  and  almost  mirac 
ulous  manner,  to  incline  the  hearts  of 
the  French  to  give  up  and  deliver  this 
strong  city  into  our  hands." 

Strong  as  it  was,  however,  Pepperell 


1745, 


had  succeeded  with  his  batteries  in  shat 
tering  its  strength  very  effectually.  In 
his  despatch  to  Shirley  he  said :  "  I  be 
lieve  such  ruins  were  never  seen  before, 
which,  however,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at, 
as  we  gave  the  town  about  nine  thousand 
cannon-balls  and  six  hundred  bombs  be 
fore  they  surrendered,  which  sorely  dis 
tressed  them,  especially  the  day  before 
they  sent  out  a  flag  of  truce,  when  our 
incessant  fire  on  the  town  prevented  their 
showing  their  heads  or  stirring  from  their 
covert  ways;  and  from  lighthouse  bat 
tery  we  played  upon  the  island  battery 
with  our  cannon  and  large  mortar,  so 
that  some  of  them  ran  into  the  sea  for 
shelter." 

On  entering  Louisburg,  it  was  found 
to  contain  two  thousand  inhabitants,  in 
addition  to  about  four  thousand  troops, 
of  whom  about  six  hundred  and  fifty  only 
were  regulars.  All  these,  by  the  terms  of 
the  surrender,  were  to  be  sent  to  France, 
and  pledged  not  to  bear  arms  against 
Great  Britain  or  its  colonies  for  the  pe 
riod  of  twelve  months.  A  large  quantity 
of  provisions,  sufficient  to  have  lasted  the 
garrison  for  half  a  year,  and  immense  sup 
plies  of  ammunition  and  military  stores, 
were  taken  possession  of  by  the  captors. 

The  occasion  of  the  capture  was  cele 
brated  by  a  public  dinner,  given  by  Pep 
perell  to  his  officers,  of  which  a  clerical 
anecdote  is  recorded  as  the  most  memora 
ble  incident.  The  general  had  been  ac 
companied  by  a  number  of  the  New-Eng 
land  clergy,  among  whom  was  his  wife's 
brother,  one  Parson  Moody.  This  divine 
being  the  eldest,  was  entitled  to  the  hon 
or  of  saying  "grace  before  meat."  As 


COLONIAL.] 


EXULTATION  OF  VICTORY. 


29 


he,  however,  was  apt  to  be  very  long- 
winded  on  such  occasions,  the  company 
were  in  a  state  of  nervous  anxiety,  lest 
he  should  inflict  upon  them  his  usual  pro 
lixity.  Moody,  however,  only  gave  vent 
to  the  following  brief  invocation,  much 
to  the  relief  of  the  anxious  and  hungry 
guests :  "  Good  Lord !  wre  have  so  many 
things  to  thank  thee  for,  that  time  will 
be  infinitely  too  short  to  do  it ;  we  must 
therefore  leave  it  for  the  work  of  eterni 
ty.  Bless  our  food  and  fellowship  upon 
this  joyful  occasion,  for  the  sake  of  Christ 
our  Lord.  Amen.":|: 

Pepperell  and  Warren  became  the  joint 
governors  of  Louisburg  on  taking  posses 
sion  of  the  city  in  the  name  of  his  majes 
ty  George  II. ;  but  they  continued  to  fly 
the  French  flag  from  the  fortress,  with 
the  view  of  deceiving  the  French  vessels 
expected  to  arrive.  By  this  deception, 
they  succeeded  in  ensnaring  a  large  num 
ber  of  prizes,  amounting  in  all  to  no  less 
than  a  million  of  dollars.  There  wrere 
two  East-Indiamen  supposed  to  be  worth 
one  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  and  a  South-sea  ship  of 
the  enormous  value  of  eight  hundred  thou 
sand  pounds.  This  prize-money,  however, 
much  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  provin 
cials,  fell  exclusively  to  the  naval  forces. 

When  they  heard  in  New-England  of 
the  success  of  the  expedition,  there  was 
great  joy  throughout  the  colony.  Bos 
ton  was  illuminated  as  it  had  never  been 
before.  "  There  was  not  a  house  in  town, 

*  "  The  Life  of  Sir  William  Pcppcrcll,  Bnrt.,  by  Usher 
Parsons.  Boston:  Little,  Brown,  &  Company,  1855."  A 
work  of  careful  research,  to  which  the  author  of  the  "  Battles 
of  America"  has  been  indebted  for  much  valuable  informa 
tion. 


in  no  by-lane  or  alley,  but  joy  might  be 
seen  through  its  windows."  The  bells 
rang,  the  cannons  roared,  and  the  people 
shouted  the  whole  day,  while  bonfires 
burnt  and  houses  blazed  with  light  all 
the  night.  A  day  was  set  apart  through 
out  the  province  to  return  thanks  "  to 
God  for  his  appearance  on  our  behalf." 

Nor  did  the  news  of  the  victory  excite 
less  joy  in  Old  England.  "  We  are  ma 
king  bonfires  for  Cape  Breton,"  wrote 
Horace  Walpole.  George  II,  who  was 
on  a  visit  to  his  Hanoverian  possessions 
when  he  received  the  intelligence  of  the 
capture  of  Louisburg,  was  aroused  to  an 
unusual  pitch  of  enthusiastic  delight.  He 
made  Warren  an  admiral  at  once,  and 
governor  of  Louisburg;  and  issued  his 
letters-patent,  dating  them  from  Hano 
ver,  by  which  he  conferred  a  baronetcy 
upon  Pepperell.  Sir  William  was  the 
first  and  only  native  New-England  colo 
nist  ever  raised  to  that  dignity. 

In  London  the  news  created  great  ex 
citement  ;  the  tower  and  park  guns  were 
fired,  and  the  city  illuminated.  On  the 
return  of  George  II.  to  his  British  domin 
ions,  he  was  met  by  congratulations  and 
addresses  of  the  towns  and  public  bodies, 
upon  the  happy  event.  The  ministry 
of  the  duke  of  Newcastle  had  involved 
Great  Britain  in  a  war  with  France,  which 
had  hitherto  only  resulted  in  disgrace  to 
the  former  and  glory  to  the  latter.  The 
English  had  now  the  conquest  of  Louis 
burg,  "  the  Dunkirk  of  America,"  as  a  set- 
off  to  the  French  triumph  at  Fontenoy. 

The  Americans  became  exalted  at  once 
in  the  estimate  of  their  British  fellow- 
subjects,  as  they  alone  had  succeeded  in 


30 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


vindicating  the  fame  of  their  country  by 
a  great  victory  over  its  enemies.  The 
reduction  of  Cape  Breton,  said  a  contem 
porary  writer,  "  by  the  people  of  New 
England,  was  an  acquisition  so  unexpect 
ed  and  fortunate,  that  America  became 
on  that  remarkable  event  a  more  general 
topic  of  conversation.  Of  such  conse 
quence  to  the  French  was  the  possession 
of  that  important  key  to  their  American 
settlements,  that  its  restitution  was  in 
reality  the  purchase  of  the  last  general 
peace  of  Europe." 

The  effect  upon  the  future  destinies  of 
America  was  no  less  than  upon  the  actu 


al  position  of  affairs  in  Europe.  At  the 
siege  of  Louisburg,  the  American  colo 
nists  learned  their  first  lesson  in  regular 
warfare,  and  acquired  that  self-confidence 
which  did  not  hesitate,  in  behalf  of  their 
own  great  cause  of  independence,  to  try 
the  chances  of  battle  with  European 
troops.  At  Louisburg,  too,  were  schooled 
those  famous  officers,  Wooster,  Whitin^, 

/  O' 

Gridley,  and  others,  who  became  as  heroic 
Revolutionary  leaders  in  the  battle  for 
"  life,  liberty,  and  happiness,"  as  they  had 
been  faithful  soldiers  in  the  service  of 
their  king,  whom  they  only  loved  the  less 
because  they  loved  their  country  more. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  New-Englandera  eager  for  Conquest. — Proposal  to  invade  the  Canadas. — The  French  burning  with  Revenge. — An 
Avenging  Fleet. — Its  Fate. — A  Second  French  Fleet. — Met  and  conquered  by  the  British. — Peace. — The  Concession 
of  Louislmrg  to  the  French. — New-Englanders  dissatisfied. — France  again  lusting  for  Dominion. — Desires  to  unite  the 
St.  Lawrence  and  the  Mississippi. — Who  shall  be  supreme,  France  or  England? — Might  not  Right. — Marquis  Du 
Quesne,  Governor  of  Canada. — His  Activity. — Forts  built. — Ohio  Company  alarmed. — Appeal  to  Governor  Dinwid- 
die,  of  Virginia. — A  Commissioner  sent  to  expostulate  with  the  French. — Failure  of  the  Mission. — George  Washing 
ton  appointed. — A  Bootless  Errand. — The  Ohio  Company  constructs  a  Fort. — Dinwiddie  sends  a.  Force  to  protect  it. 
— Washington  declines  the  Honor  of  the  Chief  Command,  but  accepts  the  Second  Rank. — His  March  to  the  Ohio. — 
The  French  Invasion. — Washington  and  his  Difficulties. — Spirited  Conduct. — The  American  Fort  on  the  Ohio  at 
tacked  and  the  Virginians  routed. — The  Garrison  arrive  in  Washington's  Camp  at  Will's  Creek. — Their  Story  and 
Adventures. — Monsieur  Contreco3ur. — A  Wily  Old  Indian. — Washington  perplexed. — A  Council-of-War. — March  to 
Redstone  Creek. — Road-Making. — Little  Meadows. — Excessive  Labors. — The  Indians  propose  the  River  Route. — The 
River  found  impracticable. — Road-Making  resumed. — Rumors  of  the  French. — Arrival  of  the  Enemy. — Washington 
goes  in  Pursuit. — Finds  the  French,  attacks  and  beats  them. — The  Death  of  Jumonville. — A  Spy  or  an  Embassador7 
— Washington  slandered  by  the  French. 


1745, 


THE  New-Englanders  were  so  ela 
ted  by  their  success  at  Louisburg, 
that  their  minds  were  stirred  with  a  de 
sire  for  further  conquests.  They  were 
now  prepared  to  carry  the  war  into  Can 
ada  ;  and  a  plan  for  a  campaign  was  act 
ually  devised,  by  Shirley,  the  governor 
of  Massachusetts,  and  the  two  heroes  of 
Louisburg,  Pepperell  and  Warren,  within 


the  walls  of  that  citadel.  The  British 
minister,  the  duke  of  Newcastle,  seemed 
to  favor  greatly  the  American  design ; 
and,  having  conferred  colonelcies  upon 
Shirley  and  Pepperell,  ordered  them  to 
recruit  their  regiments  to  the  number  of 
a  thousand  each,  preparatory  to  the  in 
vasion  of  the  French  possessions  in  Can 
ada. 


COLONIAL.] 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  FRENCH  FLEET. 


,31 


The  French,  on  the  other  hand,  hav 
ing  heard  with  great  vexation  of  the  loss 
of  their  famous  citadel,  determined  to 
take  revenge.  They  accordingly  fitted 
out  a  large  fleet,  at  an  immense  expense, 
in  the  port  of  Brest,  and,  placing  it  under 
the  command  of  the  duke  d'Anville, 
despatched  it  to  America,  with  the 
view  of  reconquering  Cape  Breton,  and 
striking  a  severe  blow  upon  the  coasts  of 
the  British  provinces  in  America.  Great 
preparations  were  made  in  New  England 
to  defend  it  against  this  formidable  ene 
my.  Forts  were  erected  along  the  coast, 
the  militia  of  the  various  provinces  gath 
ered  to  protect  the  exposed  points,  and 
sentinels  were  placed  on  the  hilltops  to 
watch  for  the  first  signs  of  the  coming  of 
the  French  ships.  Sir  William  Pepperell, 
the  hero  of  Louisburg,  had  now  returned 
to  Maine,  and  assumed  his  old  command 
of  its  militia.  He  was  full  of  martial 
spirit  on  the  occasion,  and  had  his  com 
panies  mustered  by  their  captains,  their 
accoutrements  put  in  order,  and  every 
possible  arrangement  made  for  the  ap 
proaching  emergency. 

D'Anville  and  his  fleet  did  not  arrive, 
however.  They  had  put  to  sea  in  great 
force,  with  no  less  than  eleven  ships-of- 
the-line,  thirty  small  vessels-of-war,  and 
various  transports  containing  three  thou 
sand  regular  troops.  Nova  Scotia,  then 
as  now  in  possession  of  the  English,  wras 
to  be  the  first  point  of  attack.  Calcula 
ting  upon  the  sympathy  and  active  aid 
of  the  French  residents  of  this  the  for 
mer  Acadie,they  anticipated  an  easy  con 
quest.  Once  in  possession  of  this  penin 
sula,  they  proposed  to  retake  Louisburg, 


and  thence  invade  the  New-England 
coasts.  The  design  was  extensive,  and 
the  preparations  had  been  on  a  scale  of 
grandeur  in  accordance.  But  man  pro 
poses  and  God  disposes. 

The  fleet  had  hardly  sailed  out  of  Brest 
in  gallant  trim,  and  fairly  got  to  sea,  when 
a  storm  arose,  which  wrecked  many  of 
the  vessels,  and  separated  the  rest.  The 
duke  d'Anville  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
American  coast  in  his  own  ship,  and  was 
soon  joined  by  a  few  of  the  smaller  ves 
sels.  His  sudden  death,  howrever,  put  a 
stop  to  all  his  plans ;  and  the  command 
fell,  by  succession,  to  the  vice-admiral. 
This  commander  resolved  upon  returning 
to  France,  in  consequence  of  the  dimin 
ished  number  of  his  vessels  and  their 
shattered  condition ;  but  his  council-of- 
war  overruled  him.  So  excited  was  the 
vice-admiral  by  the  opposition  of  his  offi 
cers,  that  he  ran  himself  through  the 
body  with  his  sword. 

The  aged  De  laJonquiere  now  succeed 
ed,  who,  in  spite  of  his  nearly  seventy 
years,  had  not  only  advocated  the  bolder 
policy  in  opposition  to  the  vice-admiral, 
but  now,  in  command,  was  prepared  to 
carry  it  out  with  the  greatest  energy. 
All,  however,  was  in  vain  :  another  storm 
arose,  off  Cape  Sable,  and  the  few  vessels 
that  escaped  returned  in  a  damaged  state, 
to  give  testimony  of  the  fatality  which 
had  attended  the  great  French  expedi 
tion. 

The  government  of  France,  however, 
was  not  discouraged,  and  soon   had  in 
readiness  another  fleet  to  invade  the  Briir 
ish  colonies.     England,  early  con 
scious  of  this  renewed  attempt,  had 


32 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


also  equipped  a  large  naval  force,  by 
which  it  was  proposed  to  intercept  the 
French.  Anson  was  made  admiral  of  the 
English  fleet,  and  Warren,  the  naval  hero 
of  Louisburg,  rear-admiral. 

On  hearing  that  the  French  were  about 
to  sail,  the  English  put  to  sea,  and  await- 
ed  the  enemy  off  Cape  Finisterre,  on  the 
coast  of  France.  The  two  met  on  the 
3d  of  May,  1746,  and  immediately  began 
battle.  The  French  were  worsted  after 
a  severe  struggle,  leaving  all  their  ships- 
of-the-line  in  the  hands  of  the  -British, 
with  a  large  quantity  of  bullion,  and  Ad 
miral  de  la  Jonquiere,  the  newly-appoint 
ed  governor  of  Canada,  to  reward  and 
grace  the  English  triumph. 

There  was  now,  with  the  exception  of 
an  occasional  brush  between  the  English 
and  French  on  the  frontiers,  an  almost 
entire  suspension  of  hostilities.  The  Brit 
ish  finally  disbanded  the  provincial  army; 
and  the  colonists  were  thus  prepared,  in 
anticipation,  for  the  event  which  now  oc 
curred,  that  of  the  declaration  of  peace 

by  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

By  this  treaty,  the  island  of  Cape 
Breton,  with  the  hard-won  fortress  of 
Louisburg,  was  given  up  to  the  French, 
much  to  their  satisfaction,  and  to  the 
vexation  of  the  New-Englanders,  who 
considered  the  possession  of  this  town  as 
essential  to  their  own  security.  It  was 
true,  the  right  of  Great  Britain  to  Nova 
Scotia  was  acknowledged;  but  the  French 
inhabitants  of  that  peninsula — under  the 
advice,  as  was  suspected,  of  the  govern 
ment  of  France  —  resisted  the  English 
claim.  The  treaty,  therefore,  was  very 
distasteful  to  New  England,  and  natural 


ly,  for  its  best  interests  had  been  sacri 
ficed  by  the  mother-country,  in  her  anx 
iety  to  bring  to  a  close  a  war  which  had 
cost  so  much,  and  profited  her  so  little. 

The  French,  in  spite  of  the  peace,  be 
gan  soon,  not  only  covertly,  as  in  Nova 
Scotia,  but  openly,  to  encroach  upon  Eng 
lish  colonial  rights.  France  had  long  en 
tertained  the  grand  idea  of  connecting 
its  northern  possessions  in  Canada  with 
those  she  held  on  the  gulf  of  Mexico. 
Her  possession  of  Louisiana,  with  its  then 
widely-extended  boundaries,  gave  her  the 
command  of  the  Mississippi;  while  her 
Canadian  territory,  stretching  from  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  great 
lakes,  brought  her  upper  dominion  so 
close  to  the  Ohio,  that  nothing  was  want 
ing  but  the  mastery  of  that  river  to  give 
her  the  united  power,  north  and  south, 
which  she  coveted. 

The  English  colonies  could  not  look 
calmly  upon  this  scheme,  which  was,  if 
consummated,  destined,  as  has  been  in 
geniously  said,  to  catch  them  in  a  net, 
that,  being  tightened  at  either  end,  would 
inevitably  bring  them  entirely  within  the 
power  of  the  French.  There  were  claims 
and  counter-claims  urged  by  France  and 
Great  Britain  to  the  territory  watered  by 
the  Ohio,  but  those  of  the  one  and  the 
other  were  equally  baseless.  The  ques 
tion  was  not  one  of  disputed  rights,  but 
of  contending  powers.  The  whole  mat 
ter  resolved  itself  into  this :  "  Who  shall 
be  supreme  in  the  West,  France  or  Eng 
land  ?"  It  was  of  little  importance  that 
the  latter  claimed  unlimited  territory 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  that 
the  former  insisted,  by  the  right  of  dis- 


COLONIAL.J 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


33 


1753, 


co very  and  the  command  of  the  Missis 
sippi,  on  the  possession  of  all  its  tributa 
ries,  and  the  rich  land  west  of  the  Alle- 
ghany  mountains  watered  by  them.  It 
was  clear,  with  such  unbounded  claims 
on  each  side,  that  neither  could  secure 
its  supposed  right  but  by  an  appeal  to 
might. 

The  French  first  threw  down  the  gaunt 
let.    The  marquis  du  Quesne  was  appoint 
ed  governor  of  the  French  dominions  in 
America — and  was  instructed  to 

1    l^L. 

make  good  the  widest  claims  of  his 
country,  by  military  possession.  He  ac 
cordingly  hurried  to  carry  the  orders  of 
his  government  into  effect.  He  organ 
ized  the  militia  of  Quebec  and  Montreal, 
find  placed  all  the  forces  under  his  com 
mand  on  the  most  effective  footing.  He 
now  sent  various  detachments  to 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  establishing  forts  and  securing 
the  command  of  that  river,  that  he  might 
thus  unite  it  with  the  Mississippi  by  mili 
tary  posts,  and  complete  the  cordon  from 
Canada  to  Louisiana.  Such  was  the  ac 
tivity  of  Du  Quesne's  movements,  that, 
before  the  end  of  the  year,  he  had  estab 
lished  a  line  of  forts  from  Montreal  to 
the  Riviere  aux  Boeufs,  now  known  as  a 
small  stream,  in  Pennsylvania,  by  the 
name  of  French  creek. 

The  "  Ohio  Company"  was  the  first  to 
complain  of  what  they  called  an  invasion 
of  their  rights.  This  company  was  an 
English  association  chartered  some  time 
in  the  year  1749,  and  was  composed  of  a 
large  number  of  native  and  colonial  Eng 
lishmen.  Its  purpose  was  to  colonize, 
and  trade,  principally  for  furs,  with  the 

5 


Indians ;  and  accordingly  five  hundred 
thousand  acres  of  land  west  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies  had  been  granted  to  the  compa 
ny.  It  was  this  extensive  territory  which 
had  been  encroached  upon  by  the  French, 
and  the  Ohio  Company  therefore  called 
upon  Dinwiddie,the  governor  of  Virginia, 
to  take  some  action  toward  dispossessing 
the  intruders.  Dinwiddie,  who  was  a  pro 
prietor  of  the  company,  saw  at  once  the 
necessity  of  interference,  and  sent  a  com 
missioner  to  expostulate  with  the  French 
on  their  invasion  of  the  rights  of  Virginia. 
Captain  William  Trent,  who  had  been 
selected  to  perform  this  duty,  returned 
without  having  fulfilled  it,  but  came  back 
with  more  alarming  accounts  than  ever 
of  the  French  invasion. 

George  Washington,  who  was  only 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  was  then  selectr 
ed  by  the  governor  of  Virginia.  His  pro 
fession  as  a  surveyor  had  led  him  into 
the  uncultivated  parts  of  the  countiy, 
and  made  him  familiar  with  the  wild  life 
of  the  savage  and  the  borderer.  He  had 
had  also  some  experience  as  a  military 
disciplinarian,  having  served,  before  he 
was  of  age,  as  one  of  the  adjutant-gener 
als  of  the  province,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
organize  and  drill  the  militia.  He  was 
now  appointed  adjutant-general  and  com 
missioner  to  bear  the  summons  of  the 
governor  of  Virginia  to  the  French  com 
mander  on  Lake  Erie,  requiring  him  to 

retire  from  what  was  claimed  to  be  Eno-- 

t> 

lisli  territory.  The  errand  of  Washino- 
ton  proved  bootless,  and  the  French  con 
tinued  to  seize  and  disperse  the  English 
traders,  and  prepared  to  descend  the 
Ohio  and  take  military  possession,  by 


34 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[I'ART    I 


establishing  forts  at  each  available  point 
on  the  river. 

The  Ohio  Company  had  commenced 
the  construction  of  a  fortified  post  on  the 
Ohio  river,  at  the  junction  of  the  Alle- 
ghany  and  Monongahela.  This  was  sup 
posed  to  be  a  point  that  would  attract 
the  invaders  at  once.  It  was  therefore 
determined  by  the  governor  of  Virginia 
to  send  a  force  there,  to  aid  in  the  con 
struction  of  the  fort,  and  defend  it  against 
every  attack.  Captain  Trent  was  accord 
ingly  despatched  at  the  head  of  a  hun 
dred  militiamen  on  this  service. 

The  youthful  Washington  was  also 
called  upon  again  by  Dinwiddie,  and  of 
fered  the  chief  command  of  the 
three  hundred  men  whom  it  was 
proposed  to  enlist.  Washington,  how 
ever,  modestly  declined  the  honor,  and 
gave  way  to  a  Colonel  Joshua  Fry,  under 
whom  he  served  as  lieutenant-colonel. 
Washington,  preceding  his  colonel,  set 
out  for  the  fork  of  the  Ohio  on  the  2d 
of  April,  at  the  head  of  two  companies, 
numbering  one  hundred  and  fifty  men. 
Fry  was  to  follow  with  the  rest  and  the 
artillery. 

The  French  at  this  time  were  in  pos 
session  on  Lake  Erie,  within  the  limits 
of  the  present  town  of  Erie,  of  a  log-fort, 
which  had  been  built  for  several  years, 
and  which  was  well  protected  with  pick 
ets,  bastions,  and  ditch,  and  a  strong  gar 
rison  of  soldiers.  They  had  also  taken 
possession  of  a  spot  where  now  stands 
the  village  of  Waterford,  and  construct 
ed  a  fort  on  the  Riviere  aux  Bceufs,  so 
called  from  the  numerous  herds  of  buf 
falo  which  fed  upon  the  fertile  meadows 


watered  by  that  stream,  now  known  as 
the  French  creek,  in  Pennsylvania.  Far 
ther  on,  again,  toward  the  Ohio,  they  had 
also  lately  established  another  fortified 
post,  which  was  called  Venango.  This 
was  situated  on  the  Alleghany,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  "Riviere  aux  Bceufs,"  or 
French  creek.  A  strong  garrison  was 
maintained  during  the  whole  winter  at 
the  fort  on  the  Riviere  aux  Bceufs,  and 
large  additional  forces  were  ordered  to 


1754, 


rendezvous  there  the  subsequent 
spring.  Accordingly,  at  this  time, 
some  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  well- 
organized  French-Canadian  soldiers  had 
mustered,  and  prepared,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Monsieur  de  Contrecoeur,  to  ad 
vance  down  the  Ohio  and  take  military 
possession  of  its  banks. 

It  was  to  meet  this  anticipated  inva 
sion  that  Washington  was  now  inarching 
with  his  one  hundred  and  fifty  men.  He 
found  his  progress  obstructed  by  every 
possible  difficulty.  On  reaching  Win 
chester,  he  was  forced,  in  order  to  obtain 
the  necessary  horses  and  baggage-wag 
ons,  to  put  into  effect  the  militia-law  of 
Virginia,  which  authorized  him  to  take 
by  compulsion  what  could  not  be  gotten 
from  the  freewill  of  the  reluctant  farmers. 
With  all  this  arbitrary  exercise  of  power, 
he  had  to  wait  more  than  a  week  for  only 
ten  horses,  which  was  literally  but  a  tithe 
of  the  number  demanded.  At  this  disad 
vantage,  Washington  was  forced  to  con 
tinue  his  march,  over  a  country  that  was 
mountainous  and  unsupplied  with  roads. 
The  men  were  obliged,  in  consequence 
of  the  sorry  condition  of  the  horses  im 
pressed  from  the  farmers,  to  put  theii 


COLONIAL.] 


ARRIVAL  OF  ENSIGN  WARD. 


shoulders  constantly  to  the  wheels  of  the 
wagons,  and  assist  them  over  the  steep 
passes  and  through  the  boggy  soil.  They 
were  not  disheartened,  however,  and  pro 
ceeded  bravely  on  their  toilsome  march, 
until  they  reached  Will's  creek,  now  the 
Cumberland  river,  where  they  found  Cap 
tain  Trent.  From  him  they  learned  that 
lie  had  left  his  men  under  the  command 
of  one  Lieutenant  Frazier,  all  well,  and 
hard  at  work  in  finishing  the  fort  on  the 
Ohio.  Washington  was  anxious  to  push 
on ;  but  as  Trent  had  failed  to  provide 
the  pack-horses  expected,  he  was  forced 
to  send  and  make  another  levy  upon  the 
reluctant  patriots  of  Winchester.  As  this 
town  was  at  a  distance  of  forty  miles,  the 
youthful  colonel  was  obliged,  much  to  his 
dissatisfaction,  to  repress  his  impatience 
to  move.  In  the  meantime,  all  uncer 
tainty  about  the  fate  of  the  men  at  the 
Ohio  fork  was  settled  by  their  appear 
ance,  on  the  25th  of  April,  at  Will's  creek, 
loaded  down  with  their  working-tools,  and 
commanded  by  one  Ensign  Ward. 

The  cause  of  this  unexpected  arrival 
was  soon  explained.  While  the  men — 
only  fifty  in  number,  thirty-three  of  whom 
alone  were  effective — were  busily  en- 
o-asred  on  the  works  of  the  fort,  Monsieur 

o     O  ' 

Contrecceur  suddenly  made  his  appear 
ance,  at  the  head  of  a  thousand  men,  and 
well  provided  with  artillery  and  other 
means  of  attack.  He  had  just  come  from 
the  fortified  post  of  Venango,  on  the  Al- 
leghany,  having  floated  his  force  down 
that  river,  in  sixty  batteaux  and  three 
hundred  canoes.  He  now  summoned  En 
sign  Ward,  who  in  the  absence  of  Trent 
and  Frazier  had  been  left  in  command, 


to  surrender,  and  gave  him  one  hour  in 
which  to  give  his  answer.  Ward  was 
perplexed,  as  in  the  absence  of  his  supe 
riors  he  hardly  cared  to  take  the  respon 
sibility  of  making  any  capitulation,  how 
ever  urgent  might  appear  its  necessity. 
In  this  dilemma,  he  consulted  the  Indian 
half-king  Tanacharisson,  who  was  an  ally 
of  the  English,  and  happened  at  that  time 
to  be  in  the  fort.  This  wily  old  savage 
suggested  to  Ward  to  plead  want  of  au 
thority,  and  to  ask  the  French  command 
er  to  be  polite  enough  to  postpone  the 
affair  for  the  present.  The  ensign  fol 
lowed  the  advice  of  his  Indian  counsel 
lor;  but  Monsieur  Contrecoeur  was  not 
to  be  dissuaded  from  his  purpose,  and  in 
sisted  more  urgently  than  ever  upon  im 
mediate  surrender.  There  was  no  alter 
native  for  Ward ;  for  what  could  he  do, 
with  only  thirty-three  men  able  to  bear 
arms,  and  a  half-built  fort,  against  a  thou 
sand  soldiers,  and  a  whole  park  of  artil 
lery?  The  fort  was  accordingly  given 
up,  the  men  being  allowed  to  depart  with 
their  tools.  These  were  the  visiters  who 
had  arrived  at  Will's  creek,  and  such  the 
story  they  had  to  tell  of  their  adven 
tures. 

Washington,  with  his  handful  of  men, 
was  sadly  perplexed  as  to  his  movements. 
The  French  greatly  outnumbered  him  in 
force,  and  had  succeeded  by  liberal  pres 
ents  in  winning  over  to  their  side  the 
larger  tribes  of  the  Indian  savages  of  the 
wilderness.  The  French  were,  moreover 
in  daily  expectation  of  receiving  rein 
forcements  from  Canada  and  their  south 
ern  possessions  ;  and  no  less  than  six  hun 
dred  warriors  of  the  Chippewa  and  Otta- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


\va  nations  were  said  to  be  making  their 
way  to  join  the  camp  of  Contrecoeur.  All 
that  Washington  could  calculate  upon,  in 
addition  to  his  own  small  troop,  were  the 
hundred  and  fifty  men  with  the  artillery 
under  Fry.  These,  however,  might  yet 
be  detained  for  a  long  time.  As  for  Trent 
and  his  men,  no  reliance  could  be  put  in 
them.  The  captain  himself  was  timid 
and  improvident,  and  his  followers  a  set 
of  independent  vagabonds,  who,  having 
been  enlisted  as  volunteers,  exercised 
their  volition  in  doing  nothing,  and  in 
terfering  with  the  general  good  discipline 
of  the  troops. 

Washington  now  called  a  council-of- 
war,  in  which  it  was  resolved  to  march 
to  Redstone  creek,  where  the  Ohio  Com 
pany  had  a  post.  It  was  proposed  to  pro 
ceed  thither,  and,  having  encamped,  to  for 
tify  their  position  as  best  they  could,  un 
til  reinforcements  should  arrive,  or  some 
expedient  should  suggest  itself  in  the 
course  of  events  to  extricate  themselves, 
or  to  justify  action.  Two  Indians  had 
come  into  Washington's  camp  in  compa 
ny  with  Ensign  Ward  and  his  men.  These 
savages  had  been  sent  by  Tanacharisson, 
the  chief  of  the  western  tribes  of  Indians, 
who  were  friendly  to  the  Virginians.  The 
two  Indian  warriors  bore  a  speech,  pledg 
ing  fidelity  to  the  English,  and  a  belt  of 
wampum  as  a  symbol  of  friendship  for 
the  governor.  The  wampum  was  for 
warded,  under  the  care  of  its  Indian 
bearer,  to  Dinwiddie ;  and  Washington 
sent  back  the  other  Indian  with  a  return 
speech,  in  which  he  invoked  the  aid  of 
the  half-king  in  council,  and  called  upon 
him  to  come  down,  in  company  with  an 


other  sachem,  and  meet  him  at  a  certain 
point  on  the  road. 

Washington's  march  began,  but  wras 
exceedingly  toilsome  and  slow,  as  he  was 
obliged  to  make  the  road  on  which  he 
moved,  not  only  for  his  own  present  pur 
poses,  but  for  the  future  passage  of  Fry's 
artillery.  He  had  sent  some  sixty  men 
in  advance,  several  days  before  he  set  out 
with  the  remainder  of  his  whole  force, 
numbering,  all  told,  only  one  hundred 
and  sixty.  The  advance  party  was  soon 
overtaken,  as  they  had  made  but  slow 
progress  in  their  labors.  The  rest  of 
Washington's  men,  on  coming  up,  fell  to 
work  also ;  but,  with  all  their  combined 
efforts,  it  was  found  that  they  could  not 
get  on  at  the  best  with  more  than  four 
miles  a  day.  It  took  them  ten  days  to 
reach  Little  Meadows,  only  twenty  miles 
from  Will's  creek,  whence  they  had  set 
out.  They,  however,  continued  their  la 
borious  undertaking,  and  labored  day  af 
ter  day,  slaving  (as  Washington  himself 
describes  it)  through  woods,  rocks,  and 
mountains. 

They  finally  reached  the  river  Yough- 
ioney,  where  they  were  obliged  to  build 
a  bridge.  While  engaged  in  this  work, 
which  was  an  affair  of  several  days,  some 
friendly  Indians  entered  the  camp  of 
Washington.  On  hearing  of  his  plan  of 
constructing  a  road  over  the  mount 
ains  to  Redstone  creek,  they  remonstra 
ted  with  him  upon  the  impracticability 
of  such  a  work.  He  then,  by  their  ad 
vice,  set  out,  in  company  with  a  guard 
and  an  Indian  guide,  to  try  the  practica 
bility  of  the  river-route.  This  was  found, 
however,  so  full  of  rocks  arid  shoals,  and 


COLONIAL.] 


APPROACH  OF  THE  ENEMY. 


37 


so  interrupted  by  rapids  and  falls,  that  it 
was  useless  to  attempt  to  navigate  it  with 
boats  sufficiently  large  for  military  pur 
poses.  Washington  accordingly  resolved 
to  continue  his  arduous  land-route. 

From  day  to  day,  as  the  Virginians 
remained  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the 
Youghioney,  and  were  going  on  with 
their  work  upon  the  bridge,  Indian  scouts 
and  white  traders  came  in  with  every 
variety  of  rumor  in  regard  to  the  enemy. 
Some  told  how  the  French  commander 
was  building  a  strong  fort  at  the  fork  of 
the  Ohio ;  some  reported  that  he  had  re 
ceived  large  reinforcements  from  Canada, 
and  was  preparing  to  come  down  the  riv 
er;  others,  however,  declared  that  the 
French  were  only  eight  hundred  strong, 
and  that  one  half  of  them  had  been  sent 
out  from  the  fort  on  a  secret  expedition, 
the  object  of  which  was  suspected  to  be 
an  attack  upon  the  English. 

This  latter  suspicion  was  confirmed  by 
a  direct  message  from  Tanacharisson,  the 
Indian  chief,  who  said :  "  It  is  reported 
that  the  French  army  is  coming  to  meet 
Major  Washington.  Be  on  your  guard 
against  them,  my  brethren,  for  they  in 
tend  to  strike  the  first  English  they  shall 
see.  They  have  been  on  their  march  two 
days.  I  know  not  their  number.  The 
half-king  and  the  rest  of  the  chiefs  will 
be  with  you  in  five  days  to  hold  a  coun 
cil." 

This  Avas  information  that  could  not 
be  disregarded,  and  Washington  made 
preparations  to  act  in  accordance.  As 
he  was  examining  the  neighborhood  for 
a  proper  position  in  which  to  entrench 
his  force,  and  to  await  the  coming  up  of 


the  French,  he  heard  that  they  had  al 
ready  arrived  within  eighteen  miles,  and 
were  fording  the  very  river  upon  the 
banks  of  which  the  Virginians  were  at 
that  moment  encamped.  Washington 
now  decided  at  once  upon  his  position, 
which  was  at  a  spot  called  the  Great 
Meadows,  and  with  which  he  was  so 
pleased,  that  in  his  journal  he  terms  it 
"a  charming  field  for  an  encounter." 
The  space  being  cleared  of  its  scattered 
trees,  long  grass,  and  thick  brushwood, 
the  Virginians  were  here  encamped,  and 
protected  by  entrenchments.  Although 
scouts  were  sent  out,  who  diligently 
coursed  the  surrounding  country,  there 
was  no  sign  of  an  enemy.  Washington's 
men  were,  however,  in  a  state  of  excited 
expectation,  and  were  prepared  for  an 
attack  at  any  moment.  There  were  fre 
quent  alarms ;  and  on  one  occasion,  in 
the  middle  of  the  night,  the  sentinels 
fired  upon  some  men  in  the  dark.  Next 
morning,  it  was  discovered  that  six  sol 
diers  had  deserted. 

All  doubt  now  of  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  was  removed  by  the  arrival  of  an 
Indian  messenger,  who  reported  that  his 
chief  and  some  of  his  tribe  had  reached 
the  neighborhood,  and  were  now  only  six 
miles  distant.  The  half-king  sent  word 
that  he  had  fallen  in  with  the  track  of 
Frenchmen,  and  did  not  doubt  that  they 
were  lurking  near  by,  awaiting  a  good 
chance  to  attack  Washington  and  his  par 
ty.  Washington  now  determined  to  go 
at  once,  although  it  was  night,  to  meet 
his  friend  the  half-king,  and  accordingly 
started  with  forty  men,  and  the  Indian 
messenger  as  guide,  to  the  chief's  lod^e 


33 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


It  was  morning  before  Washington 
reached  the  end  of  his  journey,  which,  as 
it  was  through  a  rough  and  unbroken 
country,  and  during  an  unusually  dark 
night,  with  a  heavy,  pouring  rain,  was 
necessarily  tedious  and  fatiguing.  The 
half-king  received  Washington  with  a 
warm  welcome,  and  wras  ready  to  comply 
at  once  with  his  plans.  At  his  request, 
Indian  scouts  were  sent  out,  who  soon 
came  back,  with  the  report  that  they  had 
tracked  the  French  to  their  encampment. 

With  these  Indian  scouts  as  his  guides, 
Washington  now  started  with  his  forty 
men,  and  accompanied  by  the  Indian 
chief  Tanacbarisson  and  a  small  num 
ber  of  his  warriors.  As  they  approached 
the  position  of  the  enemy,  Washington 
drew  up  his  men  in  single  file  to  the 
right,  with  himself  at  their  head,  and  sent 
the  Indians  to  the  left.  As  the  object 
was  to  take  the  French  by  surprise,  the 
force  moved  on  in  perfect  silence,  so  that 
their  approach  was  not  suspected  until 
they  met  face  to  face,  within  gunshot. 
The  French,  though  taken  off  their  guard, 
promptly  sprang  to  their  arms,  and  be 
gan  returning  the  fire  of  the  Virginians. 

Washington,  at  the  head  of  his  men, 
had  been  the  first  to  show  himself  from 
behind  the  rocks  and  trees  which  con 
cealed  the  path  that  led  into  the  hollow 
where  the  enemy  was  encamped.  He 
accordingly  was  exposed  to  the  first  and 
hottest  fire  of  the  French  ;  one  of  his  men 
was  killed  by  his  side,  and  three  wound 
ed,  at  the  first  volley.  There  was  not 
much  difference  in  the  numbers  of  the 
two  opposing  parties ;  but  the  French, 
taken  at  a  disadvantage,  wrere  forced  to 


give  up  the  struggle,  and  took  to  their 
heels.  They  wrere  immediately  pursued 
and  overtaken,  and  about  a  score  of  pris 
oners  thus  secured,  whom  Washington 
had  some  difficulty  in  keeping  out  of  the 
merciless  bands  of  his  savage  allies,  who 
wrere  eager  to  exercise  their  tomahawks 
upon  them  for  the  sake  of  "  a  little  blood 
ying  the  edge  of  the  hatchet,"  as  the  In 
dian  chief  himself,  in  his  broken  English, 
expressed  it. 

A  young  Frenchman,  of  the  name  of 
Jumonville,  the  leader  of  the  French  par 
ty,  was  killed  at  the  first  fire.  As  he  was 
much  beloved,  and  was  from  his  influen 
tial  connections  of  considerable  social  im 
portance,  his  early  death  wras  the  subject 
of  much  expressed  grief  and  remark.  M. 
do  Villiers,  who  held  a  command  under 
De  Contrecoeur,  wras  the  brother-in-law 
of  Jumonville,  and,  from  his  desire  to 
screen  the  memory  of  his  young  connec 
tion,  determined  to  give  a  complexion  to 
the  affair  in  wThich  he  was  engaged  that 
is  not  at  all  borne  out  by  the  facts. 

De  Villiers  and  the  French  generally 
declared  that  Jumonville  was  only  sent 
out  as  an  embassador,  to  warn  the  Eng 
lish  from  territory  claimed  by  France ; 
and  that  the  attack  upon  him  by  Wash 
ington  was  unjustifiable,  and  the  fatal  re 
sult  only  deserved  to  be  termed  an  assas 
sination,  as  in  fact  it  was  termed  in  all 
the  French  reports. 

It  might  be  enough  for  us  to  know  that 
the  great  and  good  Washington  was  an 
actor  in  the  affair,  to  denounce  the  French 
statement  as  a  base  slander ;  but  we  have, 
in  his  own  words,  the  true  version  of  the 
character  of  Jumonville's  party,  wThich 


COLONIAL.] 


SPY  OR  EMBASSADOR? 


settles  the  matter  beyond  any  chance  of 
doubt.  In  his  despatch  to  Governor  Din- 
vviddie,  Washington  says :  "  I  doubt  not 
but  they  [the  prisoners]  will  endeavor  to 
amuse  you  with  many  smooth  stories,  as 
they  did  me ;  but  they  were  confuted  in 
them  all,  and,  by  circumstances  too  plain 
to  be  denied,  almost  made  ashamed  of 
their  assertions. 

"  I  have  heard  since  they  went  away, 
they  should  say,  they  called  on  us  not  to 
fire  ;  but  that  I  /mow  to  be  fake,  for  I  was 
the  first  man  that  approached  them  and 
the  first  whom  they  saw,  and  immediate 
ly  they  ran  to  their  arms,  and  fired  brisk 
ly  till  they  were  defeated.  I  fancy  they 
will  have  the  assurance  of  asking  the 
privileges  due  to  an  embassy,  when  in 
strict  justice  they  ought  to  be  hanged, 
as  spies  of  the  worst  sort" 


They  were  spies  undoubtedly,  but  they 
may  have  been  embassadors  as  well.  It 
seems,  in  fact,  to  have  been  the  object  of 
their  orders,  to  give  Jumonville  and  his 
force  this  double  character.  The  written 
instructions,  found  on  the  body  of  the 
young  French  leader,  directed  him  to  use 
every  secret  means  he  could  to  obtain 
information  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
English,  and  send  it  back  to  his  chief  in 
command  as  soon  as  obtained.  It  is  true 
he  was  also  ordered  to  summon  the  Eng 
lish  to  retire  from  what  was  claimed  to 
be  French  territory,  but  only  after  he  had 
exhausted  his  resources  as  a  spy  was  he 
expected  to  begin  upon  his  more  digni 
fied  duty  of  an  embassador.  Jumonville 
was  caught  in  the  act  of  his  preliminary 
and  less  honorable  functions,  and  was 
dealt  with  by  Washington  accordingly. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Washington  wins  his  Spurs. — "A  Brave  Braggart." — The  Death  of  Jumonville  declared  by  the  French  an  Assassination. 
— Plans  for  Revenge. — Fort  Du  Quesne. — Expedition  against  Washington. — He  fortifies  himself  at  Great  Meadows. — 
Nothing  daunted,  but  prudent  withal. — Tanacharisson's  Blood  up. — Promises  to  come  to  the  Rescue. — Fort  Necessity. 
—  Sufferings  and  Trials. — Famine  approaching. — Arrival  of  Indians. — Relief. — Promotions. — Van  Braam  a  Captain. 
— Captain  Mackay  and  his  Independent  South-Carolinian  Volunteers. — The  French  approach. — Return  of  Washing 
ton. — Stops  at  Great  Meadows. — Fortifications. — The  Idle  Carolinians. — Washington  puts  his  own  Hands  to  the  Work. 
— Fort  Necessity  described. — Desertion  of  the  Half-Chief  and  his  Indians. — Tanacharisson's  Excuse. — The  Approach 
of  the  Enemy. — Attack  begun. — A  Parley  proposed. — Washington  consents  to  treat. — Van  Braam  appointed  Negoti 
ator. — His  Knowledge  of  French  and  English. — Capitulation. — Washington  made  to  call  Himself  an  Assassin. — Van 
Braam  a  Blunderer  or  a  Rogue. — How  Washington  was  deceived. — He  marches  out  with  Colors  flying. — The  French 
Slanders. — Washington's  Arrival  at  Williamsburg. — Vote  of  Thanks. — Tanacarisson's  Opinion  of  Washington. — 
Fort  Necessity  destroyed  by  the  French. — Honors  paid  to  the  Memory  of  Jumonville. — De  Villiers's  Return  to  Mon 
sieur  de  Contrecunir. — A  Reverse  in  the  State  of  Affairs  at  Fort  Du  Quesne. — A  Reinforcement  from  Canada. — Cham 
pagne  and  Costly  Velvets. — The  Court  at  Versailles  exultant  over  French  Successes  in  the  Wilderness. — Jumonville 
called  a  Hero,  Washington  an  American  Fanner  and  Assassin. — A  Fanfaron. — Louis  XV.  resolves  upon  pushing  his 
American  Conquests. — England  feebly  remonstrates. — The  Duke  of  Cumberland  indignant. — An  accomplished  Sec 
retary  of  State. — The  Young  Gates. — General  Braddock. 


THE  Virginian  colonel  had  now  first 
"won  his  spurs,"  and  no  ancient  knight 
better  deserved  to  wear  them. 


Young 


as  Washington  was,  being  only  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  he  had  borne  the  brunt 
of  the  battle  with  the  steadiness  of  a  vet- 


40 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


eran,  although  lie  liad  exposed  himself 
perhaps  with  the  too  reckless  spirit  of  a 
youthful  adventurer.  In  writing  to  a 
brother,  he  gives  vent  to  the  heat  of  his 
young  blood  in  the  following  burst  of 
enthusiasm :  "  I  fortunately  escaped  with 
out  any  wound ;  for  the  right  wing,  where 
I  stood,  was  exposed  to  and  received  all 
the  enemy's  fire ;  and  it  was  the  part 
where  the  man  was  killed  and  the  rest 
wounded.  /  heard  the  bullets  whistle,  and., 
believe  me,  there  is  something  charming  in  the 
sound"*  Horace  Walpole  termed  this  the 
rhodomontade  of  "a  brave  braggart;" 
and  George  II.  is  said  to  have  remarked, 
when  he  heard  of  it,  "  He  would  not  say 
so  if  he  had  been  used  to  hear  many 
[bullets]."  Washington,  at  a  later  peri 
od  of  life,  when  time  had  subdued  the 
reckless  daring  of  youth  into  the  prudent 
courage  of  age,  replied,  when  asked  if  he 
had  ever  made  the  remarks  about  the 
whistling  of  bullets,  "  If  I  said  so,  it  was 
when  I  was  young." 

A  French  Canadian,  having  escaped 
the  fate  of  most  of  his  companions,  suc 
ceeded  in  reaching  the  headquarters  of 
Contrecoeur,  and  gave  in  his  account  of 
the  death  of  Jumonville,  and  the  fatal 
result  of  his  expedition.  De  Villiers,  the 
brother-in-law  of  Jumonville,  was  greatly 
excited  by  these  tidings  of  wo,  and,  swear 
ing  revenge,  declared  at  once  in  favor  of 
the  most  violent  and  vindictive  measures. 
He  was,  however,  overborne  by  the  more 
judicious  of  his  fellow-officers ;  and  it  was 
finally  agreed  in  the  council  that  six  hun- 

*  This  letter  is  endorsed  by  Washington  Irving,  in  his 
"Life  of  Washington,"  as  genuine,  although  the  expression 
italicized  lias  been  hitherto  suspected  to  have  been  a  mere 
bit  of  idle  scandal  propagated  by  the  gossip  Walpole. 


dred  men  should  be  despatched  immedi 
ately,  under  Monsieur  de  Villiers  as  chief 
in  command,  to  meet  the  Virginians. 

Contrecoeur  had,  ever  since  he  had 
ejected  Ward  and  his  thirty  men  from  the 
fork  of  the  Ohio,  been  busy  in  strength 
ening  that  important  point.  The  works 
had  been  placed  under  the  supervision 
of  Mercier,  an  artillery-officer  of  merit, 
and  he  had  succeeded  in  completing  a 
very  substantial  fort,  which  Contrecoeur 
had  called,  in  honor  of  the  governor  of 
Canada,  Fort  Du  Quesne.  Mercier's  work 
being  over,  he  was  in  readiness  to  join 
De  Villiers,  to  whom  he  was  appointed 
second  in  command ;  and  the  French 
force  sallied  forth,  without  more  ado,  in 
search  of  Washington. 

Washington,  in  the  meantime,  had  re 
turned  to  his  camp  at  the  Great  Mead 
ows,  and,  having  sent  off  his  prisoners 
and  despatches  to  the  governor  of  Vir 
ginia,  prepared  to  strengthen  his  position 
with  the  expectation  of  an  early  attack 
by  the  French.  He  had  heard  of  the 
completion  of  the  new  fort  of  Du  Quesne, 
and  of  the  large  number  of  troops  gath 
ering  there.  He  knew  that  Contrecoeur 
would  not  be  long  in  striking  a  blow,  in 
return  for  the  death  of  Jumonville  and 
the  defeat  of  his  party.  He  was  there 
fore  in  daily  expectation  of  an  attack  — 
and  an  attack  in  which  he  would  be  at 
the  disadvantage  of  an  inferior  force. 
lie,  however,  was  nothing  daunted.  "  I 
shall  expect  every  hour  to  be  attacked," 
he  writes,  "  and  by  unequal  numbers, 
which  I  must  withstand,  if  there  are  five 
to  one."  Young  and  daring  as  he  was, 
Washington  was  not  wanting,  even  at 


COLONIAL.] 


FORT  NECESSITY. 


41 


that  early  age  of  self-confidence,  in  the 
prudence  and  foresight  which  marked 
his  subsequent  life.  "  Your  honor,"  he 
declares  in  his  despatch  to  the  governor 
of  Virginia,  u  may  depend  I  will  not  be 
surprised,  let  them  come  at  what  hour 
they  will."  His  deeds  confirmed  his 
words,  and  he  set  about  diligently  ma 
king  every  preparation  for  the  coming 
attack.  He  finished  his  entrenchments 
at  Great  Meadows,  and  began  to  erect  a 
palisade.  He  sent  a  messenger  with  all 
despatch  to  Colonel  Fry,  who  was  ill  at 
Will's  creek,  with  a  request  that  he  would 
send  at  once  as  many  of  his  men  as  he 
could  spare.  The  half-king  Tanacharis- 
son  did  not  require  much  urging,  as  his 
savage  blood,  having  become  heated  in 
the  late  fight  with  the  French,  was  now 
boiling  fiercely  for  another  struggle.  The 
chief  accordingly,  having  sent  the  scalps 
token  from  the  French  dead,  and  the  sig 
nificant  hatchet,  to  his  Indian  allies,  the 
Mingoes  and  Shawnees,  strove  to  engage 
them  to  take  up  arms  for  his  brothers 
the  English.  He  himself  went  away  to 
join  his  own  people,  promising  soon  to 
return  with  forty  or  more  of  his  own  war 
riors. 

Having  completed  his  fortification  at 
the  Great  Meadows,  Washington  gave  it 
the  name  of  Fort  Necessity,  as  well  he 
might,  from  the  compulsory  trials  to 
which  he  had  been  subjected  in  the 
course  of  its  construction.  Here  he  was 
forced  to  make  a  stand  to  await  the  ap 
proach  of  an  enemy  that  far  outnum 
bered  his  own  small  force.  Here  he 
heard  of  the  death  of  Fry  at  Will's  creek; 
and  here  his  men,  worn  out  with  daily 
6 


toil,  were  deprived  of  their  daily  bread. 
The  small  camp  almost  suffered  from  fam 
ine  in  consequence  of  the  neglect  of  the 
trader  Croghan,  who  had  contracted  to 
supply  the  troops  with  flour.  For  nearly 
a  week  they  were  deprived  of  this  essen 
tial  staff  of  life.  The  scarcity,  moreover, 
which  was  so  great  as  to  bring  Washing 
ton's  men  to  the  verge  of  starvation,  was 
further  increased  by  the  arrival  at  the 
camp  of  the  half-king,  his  forty  warriors, 
and  all  their  families.  Supplies,  however, 
fortunately  soon  reached  the  almost  fam 
ished  garrison. 

Washington  succeeded  to  the  chief 
command  by  the  death  of  Fry,  upon  the 
arrival  of  whose  detachment  from  Will's 
creek  the  force  at  Fort  Necessity  was  in 
creased  to  three  hundred.  A  further  ad 
dition  was  expected  from  South  Carolina, 
which  had  enrolled  an  independent  com 
pany  of  one  hundred  men,  under  the  com 
mand  of  a  Captain  Mackay,  whose  arri 
val  was  daily  looked  for. 

Some  changes  in  rank  occurred  among 
the  other  officers  in  consequence  of  Wash 
ington's  advancement.  Captain  Adam 
Stephen  was  promoted  to  a  majority,  and 
Jacob  Van  Braam,  Washington's  old  com 
panion  and  interpreter,  was  made  a  cap 
tain. 

Fort  Necessity  having  been  put  in  a 
tolerable  condition,  Washington  (leaving 
the  hundred  men  of  South  Carolina  and 
their  captain,  Mackay,  who  had  lately  ar 
rived,  as  a  garrison  to  defend  it)  took  up 
again  his  old  route  for  Redstone  creek. 
Washington  had  so  much  trouble  with 
Mackay's  troop,  as  they  considered  them 
selves  in  the  light  of  volunteers,  and  thus 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


relieved  from  the  obligation  of  ordinary 
military  duty,  that  he  determined  to  pro 
ceed  without  them  in  the  toilsome  labors 
of  completing  the  military  road.  The 
Virginians  had  not  been  many  days  gone, 
when  intelligence  was  received  of  the  ap 
proach  of  the  force  which  we  have  seen 
was  sent  out  from  Fort  Du  Quesne.  Wash 
ington  sent  immediately  for  Captain  Mac- 
kay,  and  on  his  arrival  a  council-of-war 
was  held,  at  which  it  was  resolved  that  it 
was  necessary  to  take  up  some  more  se 
cure  position  than  that  where  they  were 
then  encamped,  although  they  had  pro 
tected  themselves  by  hurriedly  throwing 
up  entrenchments. 

The  whole  force  now  began  to  retire ; 
and,  after  a  toilsome  retreat,  for  want  of 
a  sufficiency  of  pack-horses  and  wagons, 

finally  reached   Fort  Necessity. 

The  Virginians  complained  loud 
ly  during  the  whole  route  of  the  Carolin 
ians,  who  left  all  the  work  of  clearing  the 
road,  carrying  the  baggage,  and  dragging 
the  artillery,  to  them,  while  those  inde 
pendent  military  gentlemen  considered 
it  inconsistent  with  their  dignity  to  do 
anything  else  but  march  in  battle  array. 
When  Washington  reached  the  fort,  he 
found  that  his  own  men,  either  worn 
down  with  fatigue,  or  influenced  by  the 
bad  example  of  the  Carolinians,  would 
not  move  a  step  farther,  and  was  fain  to 
rest  at  the  Great  Meadows,  and  there 
await  the  coming  of  the  French. 

There  was  no  time  to  spare,  and  Wash 
ington  set  his  men  at  work  at  once  upon 
the  fort,  which  he  strove  to  strengthen 
by  a  breastwork  of  timber.  The  Caro 
linians  still  looked  idly  on,  while  the  Vir- 


July  1, 


ginians,with  Washington  himself  putting 
his  own  hands  to  the  work,  laboriously 
cut  down  the  trees,  and  rolled  up  their 
great  trunks  to  protect  the  small  en 
trenchment. 

Fort  Necessity  was  a  rude  stockade, 
about  a  hundred  feet  square,  and  sur 
rounded  by  trenches.  It  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  Great  Meadows,  on  a  level 
spot  hemmed  in  by  hills  mostly  covered 
with  wood.  A  small  stream  ran  near  the 
place,  and  continued  its  course  along  the 
base  of  the  high  ground  and  through  the 
valley  which  opened  into  the  Great  Mea 
dows. 

Washington,  while  thus  manfully  pre 
paring  to  defend  himself  with  his  hand 
ful  of  men  against  the  larger  force  which 
was  coming  to  attack  him,  was  further 
weakened  by  the  desertion  of  the  half- 
chief  and  his  Indians.  Tanacharisson  pre 
tended  to  be  disaffected  in  consequence 
of  not  having  been  sufficiently  listened 
to  by  Washington  in  the  formation  of 
his  plans.  It  was,  however,  suspected 
that  the  Indians  wished  only  to  secure 
the  safety  of  their  families ;  and,  as  they 
were  aware  of  the  overpowering  num 
bers  of  the  French,  they  feared  the  fatal 
result  of  an  encounter  at  such  odds.  As 
some  few  of  the  Indians  who  had  no 
wives  still  remained,  it  was  supposed 
that  the  motive  just  given  was  the  real 
cause  of  the  desertion  of  those  who  went 
away. 

The  first  sign  of  the  approach  of  the 
enemy  was  the  arrival,  early  in  the  mom 
ma;  of  a  wounded  sentinel,  who 

,      , ,  J»iy  s, 

came  staggering  in  from  the  outr 

posts.    Washington  immediately  drew  up 


COLONIAL. 


CAPITULATION  OF  FORT  NECESSITY. 


43 


his  men  on  the  plain  to  meet  the  antici 
pated  attack,  which  was  now  made  cer 
tain  by  the  arrival  of  the  scouts  with  in 
formation  that  a  large  body  of  French 
and  Indians  was  within  a  few  miles,  and 
rapidly  approaching.  Toward  noon  the 
enemy  had  taken  possession  of  a  neigh 
boring  hill,  and  commenced  a  fire  from 
under  cover  of  the  trees.  Their  shots  at 
first  fell  short,  and  were  not  returned  by 
the  provincials.  The  fire,  however,  of  the 
French  soon  began  to  tell  more  effectual 
ly,  and  Washington  wa.-  forced  to  order 
his  men  within  the  fortifications;  and 
here  they  kept  up  a  straggling  fire  with 
the  enemy,  seldom  securing  a  good  aim 
at  them,  as  they  were  hid  among  the 
trees.  This  kind  of  skirmishing  lasted  the 
whole  day,  the  English  having  already 
lost  thirty  while  the  French  had  only 
three  killed,  when,  night  coming  on,  De 
Villiers  proposed  a  parley. 

After  some  hesitation  on  the  part  of 
Washington,  who  suspected  a  ruse,  he 
consented  to  send  an  officer  to  treat  with 
the  French  commander.  Van  Braam,  who 
had  some  pretensions  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  language,  was  selected.  He  made 
several  journeys  backward  and  forward, 
between  the  fort  and  the  enemy's  camp, 
before  he  brought  terms  of  capitulation 
to  which  Washington  was  willing  to  as 
sent. 

These  were  sent  by  the  French  com 
mander,  written  out  in  clue  form ;  and, 
upon  being  delivered  to  Washington  by 
Van  Braam,  that  officer  was  called  upon 
to  translate  them.  This  he  undertook 
to  do,  and  how  far  he  was  equal  to  the 
undertaking  will  be  found  by  the  result. 


Washington  and  his  officers,  neither  of 
whom  understood  a  word  of  French,  be 
lieved  that  they  had  got  a  fair  idea  of 
the  terms  of  capitulation  proposed,  al 
though  Van  Braam  was  evidently  not 
quite  at  his  ease  either  in  French  or  Eng 
lish.  There  was  no  objection  made  to 
any  of  the  stipulations  as  translated,  with 
the  exception  of  that  which  proposed 
that  Washington  should  give  up  all  his 
artillery  and  ammunition  to  the  enemy. 
This  he  would  not  concede,  and  De  Vil 
liers  accordingly  altered  it. 

The  besieged  were  in  a  condition  not 
very  favorable  certainly  for  insisting  up 
on  the  most  liberal  terms.  Their  cattle 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
and  Washington  had  only  two  bags  of 
flour  and  a  little  bacon  left  to  feed  his 
whole  three  hundred  men  upon;  while 
all  were  so  worn  out  with  the  hard  and 
hurried  labor  upon  the  works  during  the 
three  days  and  nights  previous,  that  it 
required  all  the  undaunted  spirit  of  their 
young  commander  to  cheer  on  their  flag 
ging  energies.  The  weather,  too,  Avas 
unfavorable.  The  rain  poured  in  such 
torrents,  that  it  overflowed  the  trenches, 
and,  wetting  the  firelocks  of  the  men, 
prevented  them  often  from  returning  the 
fire  of  their  assailants. 

Washington,  however,  was,  even  un 
der  such  circumstances  of  discourage 
ment,  not  disposed  to  make  any  but  the 
most  honorable  terms  of  capitulation  witli 
the  enemy.  He  accordingly  insisted  that 
he  should  be  allowed  to  depart  with  all 
the  honors  of  war,  with  drums  beating 
and  colors  flying.  That  Washington, 
therefore,  could  have  been  aware,  when 


44 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


lie  signed  the  capitulation,  that  it  con 
tained  the  expression, "  the  assassination  of 
Jumonville,"  is  preposterous.  The  death 
of  that  young  Frenchman,  however,  was 
thus  described,  and  Washington  had  sign 
ed  the  paper  upon  which  the  base  word 
was  written  !  Of  course,  no  one  now  be 
lieves  that  Washington  ever  knowingly 
was  made  to  condemn  his  own  honorable 
action,  which  resulted  in  the  death  of  Ju 
monville,  as  the  deed  of  an  assassin.  The 
French  at  the  time,  however,  made  a  great 
deal  of  this  admission,  which  appears  to 
have  been  particularly  sweet  to  De  Vil- 
liers's  desire  to  revenge  his  young  rela 
tive.  In  his  report  of  the  affair  at  Fort 
Necessity,  he  says :  "  We  made  the  Eng 
lish  consent  to  sign  that  they  had  assas 
sinated  my  brother  in  his  camp." 

It  has  been  suspected  that  the  cunning 
French  commander  had  bribed  Van  Braam 
to  misconstrue  purposely  the  word  assas- 
sinat,  in  order  that  the  French  might  in 
dulge  a  stolen  pleasure  of  revenge.  It 
is,  however,  more  probable  that  the  stu 
pid  Van  Braam,  who  knew  very  little 
English  and  much  less  French,  made  an 
unintentional  blunder  in  the  translation. 
Still,  the  French  ^vord  assassinat  corre 
sponds  so  nearly  with  our  own  "  assas 
sination,"  that  we  could  hardly  conceive 
how  Washington  himself,  even  with  his 
ignorance  of  the  French  language,  should 
have  been  misled,  were  it  not  from  this 
fact.  The  paper  with  the  written  stipu 
lations  was  brought  in  at  nicrht,  and  read 

O  O         ' 

in  the  trenches,  by  means  of  a  candle 
held  close  to  the  face  of  the  blundering 
Van  Braam,  who  was  undertaking  to  read 
and  explain  its  purport  in  broken  Eng- 


July  4, 


lish.  The  rain  w^as  pouring  in  torrents  at 
the  same  moment,  and  Washington  and 
his  officers  were  gathered  in  a  confused 
group  about  the  reader,  while  there  was 
the  greatest  difficulty  to  see  with  suffi 
cient  distinctness  to  make  out  the  wri 
ting,  or  even  to  keep  the  candle  burning. 
Washington  probably,  in  the  confusion 
and  uncertain  light,  never  saw  the  origi 
nal  word,  and  intrusted  implicitly  to  his 
interpreter. 

Early  next  day,  Washington, 
having  destroyed  his  artillery, 
and  hid  away  his  military  stores,  as  had 
been  agreed  upon,  led  out  his  men,  with 
all  the  honors  of  war.  Van  Braam,  who 
could  be  Avell  spared,  and  a  Captain  Stobo, 
who  was  a  man  of  different  arid  more  gen 
uine  metal,  were  left  with  the  French 
commander  as  hostages  for  the  fulfilment 
of  the  terms  of  the  capitulation.  De  Vil- 
liers,  in  his  report,  utters  a  contemptuous 
lie,  declaring  that  "  the  English,  struck 
ivith  panic,  took  to  flight,  and  left  their 
flag  and  one  of  their  colors."  They  did 
leave  their  regimental  flag,  because  it  Avas 
too  burdensome  to  carry,  but  their  colors 
they  bore  away  flying,  as  they  were  enti 
tled  to  by  the  concession  made  by  this 
same  De  Villiers  who  forged  the  lie. 

The  French  had  been  better  occupied 
in  keeping  their  own  word  than  in  de 
vising  false  accusations  against  others. 
They  had  pledged  themselves  that  Wash 
ington  and  his  men  should  be  allowed  to 
march  out  without  molestation  ;  and  yet 
they  had  hardly  got  out  of  the  fort,  when 
the  Indians  from  De  Villiers's  camp  be 
gan  plundering  the  baggage,  and  it  was 
found  necessary,  in  consequence,  to  tie- 


COLONIAL.] 


TWO  OPINIONS  OF  WASHINGTON. 


45 


*troy  the  greater  part  of  it,  in  order  to 
get  rid  of  these  ravenous  savages.  In  a 
few  days,  after  a  toilsome  journey,  Wash 
ington  succeeded  in  leading  his  jaded  and 
disheartened  force  to  Will's  creek,  where, 
with  abundant  provisions,  and  in  a  snug 
encampment,  they  were  left  to  recruit 
their  strength  and  health,  until  they 
might  be  in  proper  condition  to  march 
homeward.  Washington  himself  pushed 
on  directly  for  Williamsburg,  to  give  in 
his  report  of  the  unfortunate  but  honor 
able  results  of  the  expedition.  '  His  own 
province  justly  estimated  Washington's 
services,  and  he  received  a  vote  of  thanks 
from  the  Virginia  house  of  burgesses  for 
his  courage  and  the  prudence  of  his  con 
duct. 

The  old  chief  Tanacharisson,  however, 
who  had  deserted  his  "  white  brother"  in 
his  emergency,  took,  as  it  seems,  a  very 
different  view  of  Washington's  manage 
ment.  "  The  colonel,"  he  said,  "  wras .  a 
good-natured  man,  but  had  no  experi 
ence  ;  he  took  upon  him  to  command  the 
Indians  as  his  slaves,  and  would  have 
them  every  day  upon  the  scout,  and  to 
attack  the  enemy  by  themselves,  but 
would  by  no  means  take  advice  from  the 
Indians.  He  lay  in  one  place  from  one 
full  moon  to  the  other,  without  making 
any  fortifications,  except  that  little  thing 
in  the  Meadow ;  whereas,  had  he  taken 
advice,  and  built  such  fortifications  as  he 
(Tanacharisson)  advised  him,  he  might 
easily  have  beat  off  the  French.  But  the 
French,  in  the  engagement,  acted  like 
cowards,  and  the  English  like  fools." 

De  Villiers,  having  taken  possession 
of  Fort  Necessity  on  its  surrender,  set  i 


about  destroying  its  rude  and  incomplete 
works,  and  then  started  on  his  return 
to  Fort  Du  Quesne.  As  there  was  little 
to  be  done  in  demolishing  the  simple 
defences  of  the  English  provincials,  the 
French  were  enabled  to  get  through  their 
labors  in  a  single  morning,  and  marched 
out  on  the  very  same  day  that  Washing 
ton  departed.  Their  force  was  now  di 
vided  into  two  parties,  and  both  went  to 
work  destroying  all  the  English  trading- 
posts  and  stockades  met  with  in  the 
course  of  their  different  routes.  De  Vil 
liers  led  his  detachment  to  the  scene  of 
Jumonville's  defeat  and  death,  and,  with 
pious  affection,  seeking  out  from  among 
the  mangled  corpses  of  the  slain  (who,  in 
accordance  with  Indian  warfare,  lay  scat 
tered  about  with  their  skulls  bared  by 
the  tomahawk)  his  brother's  body,  buried 
it  writh  the  honors  of  a  soldier's  grave. 
This  pious  duty  performed,  De  Villiers 
hastened  on  to  Fort  Du  Quesne,  where 
he  arrived  on  the  7th  day  of  July. 

Monsieur  de  Contrecccur  and  his  gar 
rison  on  the  Monongahela  were  not  found 
by  De  Villiers  in  such  a  flourishing  con 
dition  as  when  he  had  left  them  on  his 
expedition  down  the  Ohio.  Supplies, 
which  had  been  sent  out  for  the  provis-. 
ion  of  the  fort,  had  been  delayed  on  the 
route.  Those  who  had  charge  of  them 
had  wandered  from  their  way,  and,  not 
succeeding  in  finding  horses  and  wagons 
to  carry  their  burden,  were  obliged  to 
bear  it  themselves.  With  the  fatigue, 
the  delay,  and  the  scarcity  of  provisions, 
the  men  sickened ;  and  no  less  than  four 
hundred  of  the  party  died  from  the  effects 
of  hunger,  exhaustion,  and  the  scurvy. 


r 


46 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAKT  i 


Those  who  escaped  finally  broke  open 
(.he  packages  with  which  they  were 
charged,  and  helped  themselves  freely  to 
their  contents.  They  thus  got  an  abun 
dant  supply  of  the  generous  wines  of 
Champagne  and  Bordeaux.,  and  in  their 
wild  orgies  dressed  themselves,  in  the 
midst  of  the  wilderness,  in  the  costly  vel 
vet  uniforms  sent  to  grace  the  dignity  of 
Monsieur  de  Contrecoeur  and  his  fellow- 
officers.  When  they  arrived  at  the  fort, 
they  had  hardly  anything  to  offer  but 
themselves,  tricked  off  in  the  gaudy  suits 
of  their  superiors.  Fresh  instalments, 
however,  from  Canada,  soon  put  Fort 
Du  Quesne  on  a  more  satisfactory  foot 
ing,  and  its  commander  was  enabled  to 
carry  out  his  plans,  for  the  possession  of 
the  Ohio,  in  a  manner  to  gratify  the  un 
bounded  appetite  of  his  sovereign  for  do 
minion. 

The  court  at  Versailles  were  in  raptures 
with  French  success  in  America;  and, 
while  they  slandered  the  young  Wash 
ington.,  they  elevated  the  unfortunate 
Jumonville  to  the  rank  of  a  hero.  His 
death  was  mourned  in  story,  as  that  of 
the  brave  and  the  good ;  while  Washing 
ton,  ce  plantcur  Americain — that  American 
farmer  who  in  a  few  years  afterward  was 
to  be  hailed  as  the  regenerator  of  the 
human  race  by  the  people  of  France  — 
was  held  up  to  scorn,  by  the  minions  of 
a  lewd  king  and  his  shameless  mistress, 
as  an  assassin ! 

In  England,  there  was  hardly  any  more 
disposition  to  do  Washington  justice ; 
and  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  Wai  pole 
recording,  in  one  of  his  gossiping  letters, 
that  "  the  French  have  tied  up  the  hands 


of  an  excellent  fanfaron.,  a  Major  Wash 
ington,  whom  they  took  and  engaged  not 
to  serve  for  a  year."  Throughout  Eng 
land,  however,  the  ill  success  of  the  Vir 
ginian  expedition,  whatever  may  have 
been  thought  of  its  young  and  heroic 
leader,  was  received  with  undisguised 
vexation.  The  government  remonstra 
ted,  through  their  embassador  at  the 
court  of  Versailles,  the  dissolute  Albc- 
marle,  against  the  aggressions  of  the 
French  in  America.  These  remonstran 
ces,  however,  produced  no  effect,  Louis 
XV.  continued  to  send  reinforcements  to 
Canada,  and  made  no  secret  of  his  deter 
mination  to  follow  up  his  successes  at 
Fort  Necessity  with  further  attempts  up 
on  the  territory  west  of  the  Alleghanie^. 
Great  Britain,  with  unusual  equanimity 
of  temper,  contented  itself  with  opposing 
these  overt  acts  of  hostility  by  sending  a 
little  advice  to  its  colonies.  These  were 
urged  to  unite  for  their  common  protec 
tion,  and  defend  themselves  against  the 
wrhole  powrer  of  France.  The  languid 
hands  of  Pelham,  and  the  weak  grasp  of 
the  incapable  duke  of  Newcastle,  then 
held  the  reins  of  power,  and  the  active 
aid  necessary  could  hardly  be  expected 
from  the  indolent  prime  minister  and  his 
feeble  brother. 

The  duke  of  Cumberland  was  indig 
nant  at  the  inaction  of  his  government, 
and  swore  that,  rather  than  lose  one  foot 
of  ground  in  America,  he  would  oppose 
the  enemies  of  his  country  in  that  part 
of  the  world  himself.  To  this  prince,  in 
fact,  the  colonies  were  finally  indebted 
for  the  aid,  such  as  it  was,  that  the}'  re 
ceived.  Little,  certainly,  could  be  ex- 


i   '- 
L_ 


COLONIAL.] 


GENERAL  BRADDOCK. 


pected,  when  left  to  himself,  from  the 
duke  of  Newcastle, "  a  statesman  without 
capacity,  or  the  smallest  tincture  of  hu 
man  learning ;  a  secretary  who  could  not 
write ;  a  financier  who  did  not  understand 
the  multiplication-table  ;  and  the  treasur 
er  of  a  vast  empire  who  never  could  bal 
ance  accounts  with  his  own  butler."  Such 
a  man  could  be  of  little  assistance  any 
where,  and  least  of  all  in  a  country  of 
which  he  knew  so  little,  that,  when  it  was 
suggested  that  Annapolis  should  be  de 
fended,  replied  :  "  Annapolis,  Annapolis  ! 
Oh,  yes,  Annapolis  must  be  defended ;  to 
be  sure,  Annapolis  should  be  defended : 
where  is  Annapolis  ?" 

After  considerable  delay,  when  noth 
ing  was  done,  the  necessity  of  doing 
something  was  agreed  upon,  but  how  to 
do  it  was  the  puzzling  question.  The 
duke  of  Newcastle,  in  his  ignorance,  was 
reduced  to  all  sorts  of  makeshifts  for  his 
want  of  knowledge  and  capacity.  Hav 
ing  heard  of  a  young  officer  of  the  name 
of  Gates,  who  had  just  returned  from 
America — where  he  had,  while  on  duty 


in  Nova  Scotia,  learned  something  of 
American  affairs — his  grace  of  Newcas 
tle  sent  for  him. 

On  being  closeted  with  the  minister, 
Gates  was  asked  for  a  plan  for  an  Ameri 
can  campaign ;  but  he  pleaded  his  youth 
and  inexperience,  and  modestly  declined. 
Others  were  resorted  to  in  the  emergen 
cy.  Pitt,  on  being  asked  his  views,  slyly 
answered :  "  Your  grace  knows  I  have 
no  capacity  for  these  things ;  and  there 
fore  I  do  not  desire  to  be  informed  about 
them."  Sharpe,  who  had  been  a  lieuten- 
antrgovernor  of  Maryland  ;  Hanbury,  the 
chief  of  the  Ohio  Company ;  L  ords  Towns- 
hend  and  Walpole,  had  all  been  consult 
ed  in  turn — when,  finally,  it  was  found 
advisable  to  leave  the  whole  regulation 
of  the  American  difficulty  to  the  duke  of 
Cumberland.  This  martial  prince  wras 
for  sending  out  immediately  a  military 
force  to  drive  the  French  from  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio.  Two  regiments  of  the  line 
were  accordingly  detached  at  once  for 
service  in  Virginia,  and  the  command 
bestowed  upon  General  Braddock. 


CHAPTER    YI. 

General  Braddock. — His  Life  and  Character. — Braddock's  Family. — His  Sister,  Fanny  Braddock. — Her  Love,  and  Tragic 
Death. — A  Brother's  Tribute  to  a  Sister's  Memory. — An  Iroquois. — Braddock's  Military  Career. — His  Life  in  Lon 
don. — Mrs.  Upton  and  her  Last  Shilling. — Braddock's  Duel  with  the  Earl  of  Bath. — A  Poor  Dog  ! — His  Farewell  of 
a  Frail  but  Constant  Friend. — Braddock  exiled  by  Poverty. — Eecalled  by  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  and  given  the 
Command  of  the  American  Expedition. — His  Age  and  Military  Character. 


1754, 


"  DESPERATE  in  his  fortune,  brutal 
in  his  behavior,  obstinate  in  his  sen 
timents,  he  was  still  intrepid  and  capa 
ble,"  are  the  few,  biting  words  in  which 
Walpole  sums  up  the  character  of  the 


general  appointed  to  command  the  regi 
ments  now  about  to  be  sent  out  to  Amer- 
Six  feet  high,  of  Atlantean  shoul- 


ica. 


ders,  of  good  appetite,  and  a  lover  of  his 
bottle,  he  was  equal  to  any  effort  of  per- 


48 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


sonal  vigor.  He  was  a  match  for  the 
best  swordsman  in  the  army,  and  could 
drink  his  whole  mess  under  the  table ! 
He  swore  copiously,  as  troopers  were 
wont  to  do  in  those  days.  Turbulent 
and  pugnacious,  he  was  never  so  much 
at  his  ease  as  in  the  hurly-burly  of  war. 
Intrepid  and  loyal,  he  was  always  ready 
to  fight  for  his  king  or  his  great  master, 
his  royal  highness  the  burly  duke  of 
Cumberland,  whom  he  was  proud  to  copy 
as  the  model  soldier. 

Of  Braddock's  early  history  little  is 
known,  although  there  is  sufficient  proof 
that  he  was  not  altogether  the  low  ad 
venturer  it  has  been  the  habit  of  histo 
rians  to  represent  him.  His  father  him 
self  was  a  soldier,  and  possessed  of  suffi 
cient  patronage  or  desert  to  have  reached 
the  rank  of  major-general,  with  a  colo 
nelcy  in  the  guards.  He  was  known  as  a 
retired  veteran  officer,  living  in  his  old 
age  at  the  fashionable  town  of  Bath, 
where  he  died  on  the  15th  of  June,  1725. 
He  was  evidently  a  man  of  competent 
fortune,  for  on  his  death  he  left  no  less 
than  six  thousand  pounds  as  a  provision 
for  his  two  daughters,  and  probably  a 
much  larger  sum  to  his  only  son,  Edward 
Braddock. 

One  of  the  daughters  died  early,  and 
her  sister,  Fanny  Braddock,  became  pos 
sessed  of  her  share  of  the  father's  legacy. 
Goldsmith,  in  his  life  of  Beau  Nash,  has 
told  the  romantic  story  of  Fanny,  under 

the  name  of  "  Miss  Sylvia  S ,"  with 

his  usual  sweetness  of  narrative  and  gen 
tle  kindness  of  sympathy.  She  was  de 
scended,  he  says,  from  one  of  the  best 
families  in  the  kingdom,  and  was  left  a 


large  fortune  upon  her  sister's  decease. 
Whatever  the  finest  poet  could  conceive 
of  wit,  or  the  most  celebrated  painter  im 
agine  of  beauty,  were  excelled  in  the 
perfections  of  this  young  lady.  She  was 
naturally  gay,  generous  to  a  fault,  good- 
natured  to  the  highest  degree,  affable  in 
conversation ;  and  some  of  her  letters 
and  other  writings,  as  well  in  verse  as 
prose,  would  have  shone  among  those  of 
the  most  celebrated  wits  of  this  or  any 
other  age,  had  they  been  published. 

But  these  qualifications  were  marked 
by  another,  which  lessened  the  value  of 
them  all.  She  was  imprudent.  "  By 
which,"  says  the  kind  biographer,  "  I  only 
mean  she  had  no  knowledge  of  the  use 
of  money."  She  was  arrive'd  at  the  age 
of  nineteen,  when  the  crowd  of  her  lov 
ers  and  the  continued  repetition  of  new 
flattery  had  taught  her  to  think  that  she 
could  never  be  forsaken,  and  never  poor. 
"  Young  ladies  are  apt  to  expect,"  wisely 
moralizes  Goldsmith,  in  a  strain  that  re 
minds  us  of  a  passage  in  the  "  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,"  "  a  certainty  of  success  from 
a  number  of  lovers ;  and  yet  I  have  sel 
dom  seen  a  girl  courted  by  a  hundred 
lovers  that  found  a  husband  in  any.  Be 
fore  the  choice  is  fixed,  she  has  either 
lost  her  reputation  or  her  good  sense ; 
and  the  loss  of  either  is  sufficient  to  con 
sign  her  to  perpetual  virginity." 

Among  the  number  of  this  young  la 
dy's  lovers  was  a  handsome,  good-natured, 
easy  kind  of  fellow,  of  whose  name  we 
can  learn  nothing  beyond  its  initial  "  S." 
He  was  "  constitutionally  virtuous,"  but 
practically  it  appears  quite  the  contrary, 
for  he  followed  the  "  dictates  of  every 


COLONIAL.] 


FATE  OF  FANNY  BRADDOCK. 


49 


newest  passion."  He  loved  Fanny  Brad- 
dock,  and  Fanny  Braddock  loved  him. 
The  vices  of  the  man  (Goldsmith  gently 
terms  them  "imprudences")  soon  ruined 
him,  and  he  was  thrown  into  prison  for 
debt.  Fanny  Braddock,  with  the  disin 
terestedness  of  a  pure  and  loving  woman, 
was  resolutely  bent  on  freeing  him,  and 
sacrificed  her  whole  fortune  in  relieving 
her  lover  from  his  obligations  to  his  cred 
itors,  and  thus  restored  him  to  liberty. 

S ,  instead  of  improving  in  friendship 

or  affection,  only  studied  to  avoid  a  cred 
itor  he  could  never  repay ;  for,  "  though 
small  favors  produce  good  will,  great  ones 
destroy  friendship,"  says  Goldsmith,  who 
could  utter  maxims  worthy  of  Solomon, 
while  he  lived  as  riotously  as  the  Prodi 
gal  Son. 

Poor  Fanny,  however,  was  ruined,  in 
reputation  as  well  as  in  fortune,  by  this 
profuse  generosity  to  her  ungrateful  lov 
er.  Beau  Nash,  then  meeting  with  her 
among  some  of  his  friends  in  London, 
prevailed  upon  her  to  go  with  him  to 
Bath,  where  the  Beau,  being  paramount 
in  power,  might  introduce  her  to  the 
best  company,  and  leave  it  to  her  merit 
to  do  the  rest.  People  of  distinction 
courted  her  acquaintance,  and  strove  to 
divert  her  with  the  social  enjoyments  and 
fashionable  frivolities  of  the  place  ;  but  it 
was  apparent  that  a  settled  melancholy 
had  taken  possession  of  her  mind,  and  she 
moved  among,  but  was  not  of,  the  gay 
throng.  With  loss  of  love,  loss  of  for 
tune,  loss  of  friends,  and  loss  of  health, 
she  was  finally  induced,  as  a  mere  refuge 
from  her  own  wretchedness,  to  yield  to 
the  invitation  of  a  Dame  Lindsey,  who 
7 


desired  to  secure  so  much  beauty,  as  an 
additional  temptation  to  those  who  re 
sorted  to  her  gambling-rooms.  Although 

*— }  o  o 

she  yielded  to  Dame  Lindsey's  invitation, 
Fanny  Braddock  is  believed  never  to 
have  been  tainted  with  any  other  vice 
than  that  of  presiding  at  the  hazard-table 
for  the  advantage  of  others. 

She  could  not  long,  however,  endure 
this  disgrace,  and  preferred  the  humble 
condition  of  a  housekeeper  in  a  gentle 
man's  family,  to  which  her  poverty  now 
reduced  her.  Here  she  remained,  always 
sad,  but  faithful  to  her  duty.  The  gen 
tleman  with  whom  she  lived  now  went 
up  to  London  with  his  wife,  leaving  the 
children  and  the  house  to  her  care.  On 
the  day  when  he  was  expected  to  return, 
Fanny,  after  the  discharge  of  her  daily 
household  duty,  went  into  the  dining 
room  and  wrote  these  lines  upon  one  of 
the  window-panes: — 

"  O  Death  !  them  pleasing  end  of  human  wo  ! 
Thou  cure  for  life,  thou  greatest  good  below ! 
Still  mayst  thou  fly  the  coward  and  the  slave. 
And  thy  soft  slumbers  only  bless  the  brave." 

Some  visiters  coming  in,  she  entertained 
them  cheerfully,  and,  on  their  going  out, 
she  went  to  the  library,  where  she  had 
ordered  supper.  Here  "  she  spent  the 
remaining  hours  preceding  bed-time  in 
dandling  two  of  Mr.  Wood's  (the  gentle 
man  in  whose  family  she  lived)  children 
on  her  knees.  In  retiring  thence  to  her 
chamber,  she  went  into  the  nursery,  to 
take  her  leave  of  another  child,  as  it  lay 
sleeping  in  the  cradle.  Struck  with  the 
innocence  of  the  little  babe's  looks,  and 
the  consciousness  of  her  meditated  guilt, 
she  could  not  avoid  bursting  into  tears> 


50 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  i 


and  hugging  it  in  her  arms.  She  then 
bade  her  old  servant  a  '  Good-night,'  for 
the  first  time  she  had  ever  done  so,  and 
went  to  bed  as  usual. 

"It  is  probable  she  soon  quitted  her 
bed.  She  then  dressed  herself  in  clean 
linen  and  white  garments  of  every  kind, 
like  a  bridesmaid.  Her  gown  she  pinned 
over  her  breast  just  as  a  nurse  pins  the 
swaddling-clothes  of  an  infant."  She 
then  took  a  pink-silk  girdle,  and,  length 
ening  it  with  another  made  of  gold 
thread,  she  made  a  noose  at  one  end,  and 
tied  three  knots  at  a  small  distance  from 
each  other. 

She  now  sat  down  to  read  that  passage 
in  Ariosto's  "  Orlando  Furioso,"  where 
Olympia  is  abandoned  by  her  bosom 
friend,  and  ruined.  Having  laid  aside 
her  book,  she  arose,  took  the  girdle  she 
had  prepared,  and,  tying  it  about  her 
neck,  stepped  upon  a  stool,  and,  throw 
ing  the  end  of  the  girdle  over  a  closet- 
door,  attempted  to  hang  herself.  The 
girdle,  however,  broke  with  her  weight ; 
and  she  fell  with  such  a  noise,  that  a 
workman,  who  was  passing  the  night  in 
the  house,  was  awoke.  He,  nevertheless, 
thinking  nothing  more  of  it,  turned  over 
and  fell  asleep  again.  She  now  made 
another  attempt,  with  a  stronger  girdle, 
made  of  silver  thread,  and  succeeded. 
Her  old  maid  next  morning  waited  as 
usual  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  and  pro 
tracted  her  patience,  hour  after  hour,  till 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  the 
workmen,  at  length  entering  the  room 
through  the  window,  found  their  unfor 
tunate  mistress  still  hanging,  and  quite 
cold. 


Such  is  the  history  of  Fanny  Braddock, 
for  the  most  part  as  related  by  Goldsmith. 
"  Hundreds  in  high  life,"  says  he.  u  la 
mented  her  fate."  Her  brother,  when 
he  heard  of  it,  remarked,  "  Poor  Fanny ! 
I  always  thought  she  would  play  till  she 
would  be  forced  to  tuck  herself  up."  Hor 
ace  Walpole  might  well  say,  "  Braddock 
is  a  very  Iroquois  in  disposition." 

Braddock  was  early  led  to  a  military 
life,  by  its  being  his  father's  profession. 
He  probably  entered  the  army,  as  is  the 
custom  with  "  young  bloods"  in  England, 
before  he  had  got  out  of  his  teens,  and 
too  soon  to  have  acquired  much  educa 
tion.  His  first  commission  dates  from 
the  llth  of  October,  1710,  when  he  be 
came  ensign  in  the  Coldstream  guards. 
His  promotion,  although  not  very  rapid, 
was  sufficiently  so  to  show  that  he  had 
either  the  command  of  money  or  the  ben 
efit  of  patronage.  He  probably  had  both, 
as  his  father  was  an  officer  of  high  rank, 
and  withal  tolerably  rich.  The  fact  of 
the  son  beginning  in  a  crack  regiment, 
like  that  of  the  Coldstream,  proves  that 
his  career  must  have  opened  with  the 
advantage  of  either  family,  favor,  or  for 
tune.  In  six  years  from  the  date  of  his 
first  commission  he  becomes  a  lieutenant ; 
in  twenty  years  more  he  is  a  captain ; 
and,  in  the  brief  period  of  seven  years, 
we  find  him  with  the  high  rank  of  lieu 
tenant-colonel  in  the  line,  and  second 
major  in  his  own  regiment,  the  second 
of  the  Foot-guards. 

Braddock  had  considerable  opportuni 
ties  of  seeing  service.  He  had  served  in 
Flanders  and  Spain,  and  distinguished 
himself  at  the  battle  of  Fontenoy,  where 


COLONIAL. J 


BRADDOCK'S  LIFE  IN  LONDON. 


51 


the  French  won  so  brilliant  a  victory,  and 
the  Guards,  of  whom  Braddock  was  an 
officer,  fought  so  furiously  in  the  action, 
and  drew  off  with  such  cool  courage  and 
steady  discipline  in  the  retreat,  as  to  win 
for  the  English  soldier  almost  enough 
credit  to  compensate  for  his  being  beaten. 
Braddock  was  promoted,  immediately  af 
ter  the  battle  of  Fontenoy,  to  the  first 
majority  of  his  regiment,  and  in  a  few 
months  later  to  a  lieutenantrcolonelcy. 
He  served  under  the  duke  of  Cumber 
land  in  Scotland,  when  that  "sanguinary" 
prince  was  engaged  in  his  cruel  raid 
against  the  Young  Pretender  and  his  Jac 
obite  defenders.  Braddock  had  evident 
ly  won  the  esteem  of  Cumberland,  who 
sought  every  opportunity  to  serve  him. 
After  service  in  Scotland,  and  a  further 
campaign  in  the  Low  Countries,  peace 
was  declared,  and  Braddock  returned 
with  his  regiment  to  London. 

While  in  the  capital,  Braddock,  like 
most  officers,  lived  a  gay  life.  He  was 
known  about  town  as  a  gallant  blade, 
reckless  of  every  virtue  save  that  of  cour 
age,  and  as  prodigal  of  his  money  as  he 
was  careless  of  character.  He  gambled,  as 
did  all  the  men  of  the  world  of  his  day ; 
and  his  losses  at  hazard  often  placed  him 
in  such  strait,  that  he  was  tempted  to  re 
sort  to  means  to  replenish  his  purse,  if 
we  can  believe  some  of  the  stories  told 
of  him,  which  proved  him  to  be  far  from 
the  gallant  gentleman  that  he  doubtless 
wished  to  be  considered. 

It  is  said  that  a  certain  Mrs.  Upton, 
well  known  to  (ill)  fame  in  London,  was 
a  paramour  of  Braddock,  and  we  are 
told  this  anecdote  of  his  relations  with 


her :  "  One  day,  Mrs.  Upton  frankly  an 
swered  a  demand  for  money  by  pulling 
out  her  purse,  with  but  twelve  or  four 
teen  shillings  in  it.  With  the  keen  eye 
of  an  experienced  forager,  Braddock  saw 
cause  to  suspect  that  this  was  not  all  its 
contents.  'Let  me  see  that!'  he  cried, 
and  snatched  it  from  her  hand.  In  the 
farther  end  he  found  five  guineas.  Coolly 
emptying  all  the  money  into  his  pocket, 
he  tossed  the  empty  purse  into  his  mis 
tress's  lap.  '  Did  you  mean  to  cheat  me  ?' 
cried  he ;  and  he  turned  his  back  upon 
the  house,  to  see  her  no  more."  This 
piece  of  dirty  meanness  was  freely  talked 
about  in  every  coffee  and  club  house  in 
London ;  and,  finally,  Fielding  held  Brad- 
dock  up  to  public  contempt,  by  bringing 
him  on  the  stage,  as  Captain  Bilkum,  in 
the  "  Covent-Garden  Tragedy."*  The  au 
thor  of  the  book  just  quoted  has  ferreted 
out  this  interesting  literary  item,  and 
gives  the  following  passage  from  Field 
ing's  play,  in  which  Braddock's  dirty 
transaction  with  Mrs.  Upton  is  supposed 
to  be  alluded  to  : — 

"  Oh  !  'tis  not  in  the  power  of  punch  to  save 
My  grief-strung  soul,  since  Hecatissa's  false  — 
Since  she  could  hide  a  poor  half-guinea  from  me ! 
Oh !  had  I  searched  her  pockets  ere  I  rose, 
I  had  not  left  a  single  shilling  in  them !" 

Braddock's  inveterate  habits  of  gam 
bling  kept  him  constantly  in  debt,  and 
often  involved  him  in  quarrels  with  some 
of  his  fellow-debauchees.  It  was  in  con 
sequence  of  some  dispute  at  the  hazard 
table,  or  some  refusal  to  settle  a  claim 

*  The  History  of  the  Expedition  against  Fort  Du  Qnesne, 
&c.,  by  Winthrop  Sargent,  M.  A. :  Philadelphia,  1855.  A 
valuable  work,  to  which  we  have  been  indebted  for  many  of 
the  facts  in  this  narrative 


52 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    I 


incurred  there,  which  brought  him  a  chal 
lenge  to  fight  from  a  Colonel  Gumley,the 
brother-in-law  of  the  earl  of  Bath.  When 
they  reached  the  ground  and  were  going 
to  engage,  Gurnley,  who  had  good  hu 
mor  and  wit,  said :  "  Braddock,  you  are 
a  poor  dog !  Here,  take  my  purse  ;  if 
you  kill  me,  you  will  be  forced  to  run 
away,  and  then  you  will  not  have  a  shil 
ling  to  support  you."  Braddock  refused 
the  purse,  insisted  on  the  duel,  was  dis 
armed,  and  would  not  even  ask  for  his 
life. 

Braddock,  as  a  man  of  wit  and  pleas 
ure,  and,  moreover,  with  the  reputation 
of  a  brave  officer  and  a  good  swordsman, 
could  have  had  no  difficulty  in  making 
his  way  in  the  best  society  of  London. 
He,  however,  suffered  in  the  estimation 
of  those  whose  virtues  were  no  better, 
but  wrhose  manners  were  ;  and  he  conse 
quently  was  shunned  by  the  refined  for 
the  brutality  of  his  conduct  and  the  rude 
ness  of  his  behavior.  Yet  he  has  found 
an  apologist,  in  a  fair  but  frail  lady,*  with 
whom  Braddock  was  an  intimate.  She 
says,  in  giving  an  account  of  her  last  in 
terview  with  him,  on  the  night  before 
his  setting  out  for  America :  "  Before  we 
parted,  the  general  told  me  he  should 
never  see  me  more,  for  he  was  going 
with  a  handful  of  men  to  conquer  whole 
nations ;  and,  to  do  this,  they  must  cut 
their  way  through  unknown  woods.  He 
produced  a  map  of  the  country,  saying, 
at  the  same  time, '  Dear  Pop,  we  are  sent 
like  sacrifices  to  the  altar.'  The  event 


*  George  Anne  Bellamy,  the  actress,  from  whose  Apolo 
gy  for  her  Life  this  passage  is  quoted  in  the  Appendix  of 
Sargent's  "  History,"  &c. 


of  the  expedition  too  fatally  verified  the 
general's  expectations.  This  great  man," 
she  adds,  "  having  been  often  reproached 
with  brutality,  I  am  induced  to  recite  the 
following  little  anecdote,  which  evidently 
shows  the  contrary.  As  AVC  were  walk 
ing  in  the  Park  one  day,  we  heard  a  poor 
fellow  wras  to  be  chastised,  when  I  re 
quested  the  general  to  beg  off  the  offend 
er.  Upon  his  application  to  the  general 
officer,  whose  name  was  Dury,  he  asked 
Braddock  how  long  since  he  had  divest 
ed  himself  of  brutality  and  the  insolence 
of  his  manners.  To  which  the  other  re 
plied  :  '  You  never  knew  me  insolent  to 
my  inferiors.  It  is  only  to  such  rude  men 
as  yourself  that  I  behave  with  the  spirit 
which  I  think  they  deserve.' " 

It  was  doing  the  handsome  thing  for 
Miss  Bellamy,  the  pretty  actress  (for  she 
was  the  fair  apologist),  to  come  to  the 
rescue  of  the  fame  of  Braddock ;  but  we 
must  not  forget  that  she  was  a  prejudiced 
party,  as  the  general  had  been  one  of  her 
most  favored  and  devoted  lovers,  had 
bestowed  upon  her  putative  husband  the 
profitable  agency  of  his  regiment,  and 
left  him  by  his  will  his  whole  property, 
amounting  to  something  like  thirty-five 
thousand  dollars. 

Braddock,  as  Gumley  had  said,  wTas 
"  a  poor  dog,"  and  had  got  so  deeply  in 
debt,  that  he  was  obliged  to  leave  Eng 
land.  His  influential  friends,  however, 
secured  him  an  honorable  exile,  by  ob 
taining  for  him  the  rank  of  colonel  in  a 
regiment  then  at  Gibraltar.  While  there, 
his  old  patron,  the  duke  of  Cumberland, 
was  mindful  of  him ;  and,  upon  the  ex 
pedition  for  America  being  determined 


COLONIAL.] 


BRADDOCK  AS  A  SOLDIER. 


53 


upon,  Braddock  was  recalled,  ele 
vated  to  the  rank  of  major-general, 
made  commander-in-chief  of  all  the  Brit 
ish  forces  on  the  western  continent,  and 
given  the  command  of  the  troops  now 
ordered  there  for  the  especial  service  we 
shall  recount. 

That  Braddock  was  a  good  soldier  in 
the  European  sense,  there  could  be  no 
doubt.  He  was  now  advanced  in  years 
(having  reached  threescore),  and  a  vet- 
eran  in  service,  having  served  no  less 
than  three-and-forty  years  as  an  officer 
in  the  Guards,  during  which  time  he  had 
been  engaged  in  most  of  the  great  bat- 
ties  of  his  country.  He  was  a  martinet 
in  discipline,  and,  however  loose  in  pri 
vate  life,  no  one  could  find  fault  with 
him  for  want  of  strictness  in  the  field  or 
on  parade.  His  regiment  was  alwaj^s 
among  the  most  effective  in  the  army, 
and  had  under  his  command  gained  un 
dying  laurels  for  its  steady  behavior  and 
brave  bearing  in  the  unfortunate  field  of 


Fontenoy  as  well  as  in  the  cruel  triumphs 
of  Culloden. 

At  St.  James's  park,  too,  in  days  of 
peace  and  holyday,  Braddock's  men  were 
marked  and  admired  as  among  the  most 
orderly  and  soldierly  looking  of  all  the 
household  troops  in  London.  He  was 
just  the  man  to  please  the  duke  of  Cum 
berland,  who,  brought  up  in  the  school 
of  the  great  Frederick,  was  a  devoted 
believer  in  the  powrdered,  bewigged  sol 
dier  and  the  formal  tactics  then  prevail 
ing  in  all  the  camps  of  European  warfare. 
Braddock  had  undoubtedly  courage,  and 
had  besides  a  most  thorough  schooling, 
under  the  eye  of  Cumberland  himself,  in 
those  very  formalities  and  methods  which 
were  thought  to  be  the  necessary  frame 
work  of  all  military  art.  The  selection, 
perhaps,  could  not  have  been  better,  for 
a  regular  European  campaign ;  but  how 
it  suited  the  eccentricities  of  American 
warfare,  will  be  shown  in  the  course  of 
our  narrative  by  the  result. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Braddock  in  Council  with  the  Duke  of  Cumberland. — Objects  of  the  Expedition  to  America. — The  Pioneer  of  the  Enter 
prise. — Braddock  becomes  impatient. — Sails  from  Portsmouth,  in  advance  of  the  Troops. — His  Companions. — The 
Departure  of  the  Troops  — English  Opinions  of  the  Expedition. — Walpole's  Gossip. — Arrival  of  Braddock  in  Vir 
ginia. — Consultation  with  Governor  Dinwiddie,  of  Virginia. — The  Arrival  of  the  Troops. — A  Poetical  Welcome. — 
The  American  Governors  in  Council. — Their  Governments  recreant  to  Duty. — Braddock  storms  at  American  Delin 
quency. — The  Little  Fire  which  enkindled  the  Revolutionary  Flame. — Fort  Du  Quesne  the  Great  Object  of  the  Expe 
dition. — The  Young  Washington  is  solicited  to  join. — Becomes  an  Aid-de-Camp  of  General  Braddock. — His  Associ 
ates  of  the  Camp. — A  Storming  Quartermaster. — Sir  John  St.  Clair  raging  like  a  Lion  rampant. — Pennsylvania  back 
ward  in  Duty. — Benjamin  Franklin  comes  to  the  Rescue. — His  Interview  with,  and  Impression  upon,  the  General. — 
His  Opinion  of  the  Expedition. — His  Ruse. — Its  Success. — Braddock's  Coach  and  State. — His  Triumphal  Entrance 
into  Fort  Cumberland. 


BRADDOCK  had  frequent  conferences 
with  the  ministry,  and  especially  with 
the  duke  of  Cumberland,  who  wras  the 


master-spirit  of  the  American  enterprise. 
These  resulted  in  the  formation  of  a  plan 
for  the  campaign,  the  objects  of  which, 


r- 


54 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


in  accordance  with  the  policy  of  the  gov 
ernment  and  the  advice  of  the  military 
authorities,  were  — 

To  eject  the  French  from  the  lands 
which  they  held  unjustly  in  the  province 
of  Nova  Scotia. 

To  dislodge  them  from  a  fortress  which 
they  had  erected  at  Crown  Point,  on  Lake 
Champlain,  within  what  was  claimed  as 
British  territory. 

To  dispossess  them  of  the  fort  which 
they  had  constructed  at  Niagara, between 
Lake  Ontario  and  Lake  Erie. 

To  drive  them  from  the  frontiers  of 
Pennsylvania  and  Virginia,  and  recover 
the  valley  of  the  Ohio. 

It  was  more  particularly,  however,  the 
last  object  which  was  reserved  for  Brad- 
dock  ;  and  his  instructions  were  so  far 
specific  in  this  respect,  that  he  was  or 
dered  to  march  as  soon  as  possible  after 
his  arrival  in  America  and  attack  the 
French  fort  of  Du  Quesne,  situated  on 
the  fork  of  the  Ohio. 

LieutenantrColonel  Sir  John  St.  Clair 
was  sent  out  in  advance  to  Virginia,  as 
deputy  quartermaster-general,  to  obtain 
every  possible  information,  and  to  make 
the  preliminary  arrangements  for  the  fur 
therance  of  the  objects  of  the  proposed 
expedition. 

Braddock  himself,  soon  after  his  arri 
val  in  London,  hurried  to  Cork,  where  the 
troops  were  to  embark.  He,  however, 
got  impatient  at  the  delay  in  recruiting 
the  soldiers  and  fitting  out  the  expedi 
tion,  and  went  to  Portsmouth,  whence  he 
,„„  soon  after  sailed.  The  general  was 
on  board  the  Norwich,  in  company 

*  Life  of  Washington,  by  Irving. 


with  one  of  his  aids,  Captain  Robert  Orme, 
and  his  military  secretary,  Mr.  William 
Shirley,  the  son  of  the  governor  of  Mas 
sachusetts.  Two  other  vessels,  the  Cen 
turion  and  the  Siren,  with  a  small  mili 
tary  guard  and  a  company  or  so  of  the 
soldiers,  sailed  with  the  Norwich.  The 
transports,  with  the  rest  of  the  troops, 
the  artillery,  and  supplies,  were  to  follow 
as  soon  as  ready. 

There  was  considerable  delay  in  get 
ting  the  troops  off,  notwithstanding  they 
were  so  few  in  number ;  it  having  been 
determined  to  send  out  only  two  regi 
ments — the  forty-fourth,  with  Sir  Peter 
Halket  as  colonel,  and  the  forty-eighth, 
Colonel  Thomas  Dunbar.  These  were  to 
make  up  their  numbers  each  to  no  more 
than  five  hundred  before  leaving,  with 
the  intention  of  adding  three  hundred  by 
recruits  in  America.  One  thousand,  there 
fore,  was  the  whole  force  of  regulars  sent 
out  by  the  government,  and  these  were 
to  form  a  nucleus  about  which  it  was 
hoped  to  gather,  in  the  provinces,  an  ar 
my  of  some  four  thousand.  The  soldiers 
were  finally  recruited ;  the  stores,  artil 
lery,  and  ammunition,  prepared  and  put 
on  board ;  the  whole  force  embarked ; 
and  the  fleet  of  transports,  amounting  to 
more  than  a  dozen,  sailed  under  the 
convoy  of  two  men-of-war,  on  the 
14th  of  February,  three  weeks  subse 
quent  to  the  departure  of  the  command 
ing  general. ' 

The  hopes  of  England  were  not  very 
sanguine  about  the  success  of  this  expe 
dition  to  America,  if  we  can  trust  what 
that  gossip  Walpole  wrote  :  "  The  French 
have  taken  such  liberties  with  some  01 


1755 


COLONIAL.] 


BRADDOCK  IN  AMERICA. 


our  forts  that  are  of  great  consequence 
to  cover  Virginia,  Carolina,  and  Georgia, 
that  we  are  actually  despatching  two 
regiments  thither.  As  the  climate  and 
other  American  circumstances  are  against 
these  poor  men,  I  pity  them,  and  think 
them  too  many  if  the  French  mean  noth 
ing  further,  too  few  if  they  do.  Indeed, 
I  am  one  of  those  who  feel  less  resent 
ment  when  we  are  attacked  so  far  off:  I 
think  it  an  obligation  to  be  eaten  the 
last." 

After  a  voyage  of  nearly  two  months, 
Braddock  arrived  in  Hampton  roads,  in 
Virginia,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  Wil- 
liamsburg,  to  join  Governor  Dinwiddie, 
and  consult  with  him  in  regard  to  the 
details  for  carrying  out  the  proposed  ex 
pedition.  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  the  deputy 
quartermaster-general,  and  Commodore 
Keppel,  commander  of  the  British  fleet, 
soon  after  repaired  to  Williamsburg  also. 
On  consultation  with  these  officers,  it  was 
determined  by  Braddock  that  the  troops 
should  disembark  at  Alexandria.  Orders 
were  now  sent  for  the  transports,  as  they 
should  arrive,  to  sail  up  to  that  place. 
They  came  in  at  slow  intervals,  the  last 
vessel  being  as  late  as  the  14th  of  March, 
and,  as  was  directed,  after  anchoring  in 
Hampton  roads,  proceeded  up  the  Poto 
mac  to  Alexandria,  where  the  troops  dis 
embarked  in  fine  condition,  in  spite  of 
the  long  voyage. 

The  colonies  hailed  this  aid  from  the 
mother-country  with  great  joy,  and  gave 
an  enthusiastic  welcome,  after  their  pro 
pitious  voyage,  to  those  ships- — 

Freighted  with  wealth,  for  noble  ends  designed ; 
So  willed  great  George,  and  so  the  Fates  inclined," 


1755, 


as  a  native  poet,  in  anticipatory  poetical 
enthusiasm  of  the  great  event,  had  writ 
ten. 

Braddock,  soon  after  the  arrival  of  his 
troops,  had  invited  the  governors  of  the 
different  British  colonies  to  meet  him  at 
Alexandria;  and  accordingly,  on  the  14th 
of  April,  a  great  council  was  held. 
Here  were  Robert  Dinwiddie,  gov 
ernor  of  Virginia ;  General  William  Shir 
ley,  governor  of  Massachusetts ;  and  here 
also  were  the  three  lieutenantrgovernors, 
James  Delancey,of  New  York;  Sharpe,of 
Maryland ;  and  Morris,  of  Pennsylvania. 
Braddock  the  general  and  Keppel  the 
commodore  completed  the  number  of  this 
august  council.  The  various  governors 
were  first  reminded,  by  the  reading  of 
the  orders  of  the  home  government,  of 
the  duty  of  their  several  provinces  to 
raise  a  colonial  revenue,  and  make  pro 
vision  for  the  expenses  of  the  expedition. 
They  all,  however,  without  an  exception, 
had  a  most  unsatisfactory  account  to  give 
of  their  endeavors  to  fulfil  the  obligations 
that  had  been  imposed  upon  them.  Their 
several  assemblies  had  been  diligently 
urged,  but  had  refused  to  vote  the  tax 
necessary  to  establish  the  fund;  and  the 
governors  now  convened  declared  unani 
mously  that  "  such  a  fund  can  never  be 
established  in  the  colonies  without  the 
aid  of  Parliament.  Having  found  it  im 
practicable  to  obtain  in  their  respective 
governments  the  proportion  expected  by 
his  majesty  towards  defraying  the  ex 
penses  of  his  service  in  North  America, 
they  are  unanimously  of  opinion  that  it 
should  be  proposed  to  his  majesty's  min 
isters  to  find  out  some  method  of  com- 


56 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


pelling  them  to  do  it,  and  of  assessing 
the  several  governments  in  proportion 
to  their  respective  abilities." 

Braddock's  arbitrary  spirit  was  chafed 
by  this  colonial  recreancy, and  he  stormed 
loudly,  with  anger,  that  "  no  such  fund 
had  been  yet  established."  He  sent  the 
resolves  of  the  council  to  the  home  gov 
ernment,  accompanying  them  with  a  let 
ter  from  himself,  in  which  he  fiercely  com 
plained  of  the  neglect  of  their  duty  by 
the  colonies,  and  urged  the  necessity  of 
compelling  them,  by  taxation,  to  do  it 
effectually  for  the  future.  Here  was  the 
little  fire  by  which  the  great  flame  of 
revolution  was  kindled,  and  which  final 
ly,  after  a  period  of  unsettled,  nebulous 
light,  concentrated  in  the  glorious  stars 
of  American  Independence. 

The  opinion  of  the  governors  in  council 
in  regard  to  some  other  matters,  showed 
a  wiser  discretion.  They  proposed  that 
New  York  should  be  the  point  from  which 
the  movements  of  the  campaign  should 
be  directed.  Braddock  would  not  or  could 
not  listen  to  such  suggestions.  It  was  sup 
posed  that  he  had  received  positive  or 
ders  to  march  upon  Fort  Du  Quesne,  and 
that  he  was  thus  obliged  to  carry  on  the 
expedition  across  the  Alleghanies,  with 
all  the  disadvantages  of  a  wild  country. 
It  would  have  been  wiser,  doubtless,  to 
have  attacked  the  French  settlements  in 
Canada,  as  they  could  be  reached  by  sea, 
and  the  land-forces  might  have  been  sus 
tained  by  a  naval  squadron.  Fort  Du 
Quesne,  however,  was  the  point  proposed, 
and  against  this  Braddock  determined  to 
lead  his  forces.  The  two  battalions  raised 
and  commanded  by  Governor  Shirley 


and  Sir  William  Pepperell,  the  hero  of 
Louisburg,  were  directed  upon  Niagara; 
General  Johnson  was  ordered  to  muster 
his  Indians  for  an  attack  upon  Crown 
Point,  at  Lake  Cham  plain;  and  the  Brii> 
ish  colonel  Monckton,  with  the  provincial 
colonel  Winslow,  were  sent  to  do  service 
against  the  French  in  the  bay  of  Fundy. 

Sir  John  St.  Clair  had  succeeded  in  ob 
taining  the  Virginian  recruits  before  the 
arrival  of  the  British  troops,  and  they 
now,  on  Braddock's  men  landing,  pre 
pared  to  join  them.  They  were,  hoAvev- 
er,  taken  hold  of  at  once,  for  drill,  by  an 
ensign  of  the  forty-fourth,  who  had  been 
ordered  by  the  general  "  to  make  them 
as  like  soldiers  as  possible." 

There  was  one  greater  than  all  the 
rest  who  at  this  time  offered  himself  as  a 
volunteer,  in  a  cause  in  which  his  beloved 
Virginia  was  so  deeply  concerned.  This 
was  Washington.  "  The  din  and  stir  of 
warlike  preparation,"  says  Irving,  "dis 
turbed  the  quiet  of  Mount  Vernon.  Wash 
ington  looked  down  from  his  rural  retreat 
upon  the  ships-of-war  and  transports,  as 
they  passed  up  the  Potomac,  Avith  the  ar 
ray  of  arms  gleaming  along  their  decks. 
The  booming  of  cannon  echoed  among 
his  groves.  Alexandria  Avas  but  a  feAv 
miles  distant.  Occasionally  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  to  that  place ;  it  Avas 
like  a  garrisoned  toAArn,  teeming  Avith 
troops,  and  resounding  with  the  drum 
and  fife.  A  brilliant  campaign  AAras  about 
to  open,  under  the  auspices  of  an  expe 
rienced  general,  and  Avith  all  the  means 
and  appurtenances  of  European  Avarfare. 
HOAV  different  from  the  starveling  expe 
ditions  he  had  hitherto  been  doomed  to 


COLONIAL.] 


INVITATION  TO  WASHINGTON. 


57 


conduct !  What  an  opportunity  to  efface 
the  memory  of  his  recent  disaster !  All 
his  thoughts  of  rural  life  were  put  to 
llight.  The  military  part  of  his  charac 
ter  was  again  in  the  ascendant ;  his  great 
desire  was  to  join  the  expedition  as  a 
volunteer." 

When  General  Braddock  heard  of  this 
desire  on  the  part  of  young  Washington, 
and  learned  who  he  was — his  high  social 
position  in  Virginia,  his  great  personal 
worth,  and  the  experience  he  had  already 
had  in  border  warfare — he  invited  him 
to  become  one  of  his  aids.  This  is  the 
letter  bearing  the  invitation: — 

"  WILLIAMSBURG,  2d  March,  1755. 

"Sin:  The  general,  having  been  in 
formed  that  you  expressed  some  desire 
to  make  the  campaign,  but  that  you  de 
clined  it  upon  some  disagreeableness  that 
you  thought  might  arise  from  the  regu 
lations  of  command,  has  ordered  me  to 
acquaint  you  that  he  will  be  very  glad 
of  your  company  in  his  family,  by  which 
all  inconveniences  of  that  kind  will  be 
obviated. 

"I  shall  think  myself  very  happy  to 
form  an  acquaintance  with  a  person  so 
universally  esteemed,  and  shall  use  ev 
ery  opportunity  of  assuring  you  how 
much  I  am,  sir,  your  most  obedient  ser 
vant, 

" ROBERT  ORME,  Aid-de- Camp" 

Orme  was  a  young  lieutenant  of  the 
Guards,  of  a  good  English  family,  which 
had  supplied  many  a  brave  soldier  for 
the  service  of  their  king.  He  had  now 
nominally  the  rank  of  captain,  and,  being 
a  great  favorite  of  Braddock,  had  been 


appointed  by  him  one  of  his  aids-de-camp. 
He  was  a  spirited,  well-educated,  and 
high-bred  young  fellow,  and  commended 
himself  greatly  to  the  friendship  of  Wash 
ington,  with  whom  during  the  campaign 
he  became  very  intimate. 

The  offer  of  Braddock  was  gladly  ac 
cepted  by  Washington ;  and,  in  spite  of 
his  mother's  entreaties,  and  all  the  house 
hold  interests  of  Mount  Vernon  which 
had  gathered  about  him  during  his  retire 
ment,  he  determined,  as  soon  as  he  could 
settle  his  affairs  at  home,  to  join  the  ex 
pedition.  He  was  greatly  gratified  at 
the  appointment  he  had  received.  He 
was  fond  of  a  military  life,  and  had  only 
been  prevented  from  taking  a  position, 
as  an  officer  in  the  Virginian  troops,  in 
consequence  of  the  contempt  of  those 
bearing  colonial  commissions  implied  by 
a  parliamentary  act,  which  gave  all  the 
British  officers  the  precedence  of  them 
in  rank  and  pay.  Washington's  pride,  as 
a  Virginian  gentleman,  revolted  at  this, 
and  naturally ;  for  he  might  thus,  at  any 
moment,  be  placed  in  an  inferior  position 
to  some  ignorant,  low-bred  person,  sud 
denly  elevated  above  him  by  a  commis 
sion  which  had  been  either  bought  for 
money  or  truckled  for  by  fawning  servil 
ity.  The  young  Washington  had  conse 
quently  smothered  all  his  burning  ardor 
for  military  glory,  rather  than  sacrifice 
his  own  self-respect. 

The  offer  of  Braddock  now  came  to 
give  him,  what  he  so  much  desired,  an 
opportunity  for  honorable  service.  The 
position  as  aid-de-camp,  which  he  had  ac 
cepted,  gave  him  rank  among  the  high 
est  of  his  years,  and  was  one  of  those 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  i. 


gentlemanly  offices — for  there  was  no 
pay  —  that  particularly  commended  it 
self  to  a  disinterested  Virginian  cavalier. 
There  was  the  further  advantage  that, 
as  aid-de-camp,  Washington  would  have 
the  best  opportunity  of  improving  him 
self,  and  that  this  was  a  great  object  with 
him  he  confesses  in  writing  to  Orme  :  "  I 
wish  earnestly  to  obtain  some  knowledge 
in  the  military  profession ;  and  believing 
a  more  favorable  opportunity  can  not  of 
fer  than  to  serve  under  a  gentleman  of 
General  Braddock's  abilities  and  experi 
ence,  it  does,  you  may  reasonably  sup 
pose,  not  a  little  influence  my  choice." 

Washington  did  not  join  the  army  for 
several  weeks  after-receiving  his  commis 
sion.  When  he  presented  himself  he  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  the  general,  and 
received  into  the  intimate  friendship  of 
Braddock's  two  aids-de-camp  and  secreta 
ry,  Orme,  Morris,  and  Shirley,  who  were 
of  about  the  same  age  as  the  young  Vir 
ginian. 

While  the  congress  of  governors  was 
being  held  at  Alexandria,  Sir  John  St. 
Clair,  the  deputy  quartermaster-general, 
was  sent  again  along  the  proposed  route 
of  the  army,  to  look  up  the  contractors, 
and  find  out  how  far  they  had  kept  their 
engagements.  He  soon  discovered  that 
their  promises,  of  which  so  favorable  an 
account  had  been  reported  to  Braddock, 
were  far  from  being  fulfilled.  The  road 
that  was  to  have  been  made  by  Pennsyl 
vania,  had  not  yet  been  begun  ;  and  there 
was  no  sign  of  the  provisions  required  of 
that  province. 

Sir  John  became  highly  indignant  at 
this  remissness,  and  stormed  like  a  lion 


rampant.  He  declared  to  the  Pennsylva 
nia  commissioners  that,  instead  of  march 
ing  to  the  Ohio,  he  would  in  nine  days 
march  the  army  into  Cumberland  county 
to  cut  the  roads,  press  horses  and  wag 
ons  ;  that  he  would  not  suffer  a  soldier 
to  handle  an  axe,  but  by  fire  and  sword 
oblige  the  inhabitants  to  do  it;  and  to 
take  away  to  the  Ohio  every  man  that 
refused,  as  he  had  some  of  the  Virgin 
ians.  He  would  kill  all  kind  of  cattle, 
and  carry  away  the  horses,  and  burn  the 
houses.  If  the  French  defeated  the  troops 
by  the  delays  of  the  province,  he  would 
with  his  sword  drawn  pass  through  it, 
and  treat  the  inhabitants  as  a  parcel  of 
traitors  to  his  master.  He  would  write 
to  England  immediately  by  a  'man-of-war, 
shake  the  proprietorship  of  Mr.  Penn,  and 
represent  Pennsylvania  as  a  disaffected 
province.  He  would  not  stop  to  impress 
the  assembly ;  his  hands  were  not  tied, 
Sir  John  said,  and  they  should  find  it  out. 
He  did  not  value  a  d ,  the  wrothy  bar 
onet  declared,  what  the  governor  or  as 
sembly  did  or  resolved,  as  they  were  dil 
atory,  and  had  retarded  the  march  of  the 
army,  and  that  the  commissioners  might 
tell  them  so ;  and,  moreover,  go  to  the 
general  if  they  pleased,  who,  if  they  did, 
would  give  them  ten  bad  words  for  one 
he  gave  !  He  (Sir  John)  would  do  their 
duty  himself,  and  not  trust  to  them  ;  but 
he  declared  with  an  oath  that  they  should 
have  to  pay  dearly  for  it?  and  "  by  G-d" 
he  was  in  earnest !  Even  Braddock,  as 
little  mealy-mouthed  as  he  was,  could  not 
approve  St.  Glair's  violence,  and,  on  its 
being  reported,  rebuked  him  severely. 
It  seemed  not  to  have  been  without  its 


COLONIAL.  J 


SCARCITY  OF  SUPPLIES. 


59 


effect,  however,  upon  the  Pennsylvani- 
ans,  who  set  about  the  road,  though  dil 
atorily,  and  did  not  make  much  prog 
ress  in  sending  forward  the  promised 
supplies. 

Other  provinces  were  equally  back 
ward  with  Pennsylvania.  Only  twenty 
wagons,  two  hundred  horses,  and  some 
utterly  worthless  provisions,  came  in,  out 
of  the  twenty-five  hundred  horses,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  wagons,  and  eleven 
hundred  head  of  cattle,  which  had  been 
promised  by  Maryland.  Braddock  was 
thus  detained  at  Alexandria,  with  the  ar 
tillery  and  military  stores,  for  want  of 
means  to  convey  them.  He  finally  re 
solved  to  proceed  to  Fredericktown,  in 
Maryland,  to  endeavor  to  hasten  the  levy 
of  horses  and  wagons.  He  left  behind 
him,  at  Alexandria,  four  companies  of  the 
forty-fourth  regiment,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Gage,  who 
was  ordered  to  forward  the  artillery,  am 
munition,  and  stores,  as  means  should  ar 
rive  for  their  conveyance.  The  main 
body  of  the  troops  were  at  Frederick- 
town,  where  the  general  now  joined  them. 
The  Virginian  regiments  had,  however, 
been  ordered  to  Winchester,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  the  rangers,  sent  to  build  stock 
ade  forts  on  Greenbrier  river,  under  Cap 
tain  Lewis,  subsequently,  in  our  revolu 
tionary  struggle,  a  brigadier-general,  and 
an  especial  favorite  with  Washington  for 
his  soldierly  qualities.  Six  companies 
of  the  forty-fourth  regulars  soon  after 
moved  on  also,  under  the  command  of 
Sir  Peter  Halket,  to  Winchester,  where 
they  were  ordered  to  remain,  with  the 
Virginians,  until  the  road  was  in  proper 


condition,  and  then  to  march   to  Fort 
Cumberland. 

Commodore  Keppel  had  also  detached 
a  number  of  seamen  from  his  ships,  who 
by  their  knowledge  of  the  use  of  ropes 
and  tackle,  and  practice  in  rowing  and 
hauling,  might  assist  in  ferrying  the  ar 
my  over  the  rivers,  making  the  bridges, 
and  moving  the  heavy  artillery  up  and 
down  the  acclivities  of  the  steep  roads. 
This  naval  detachment  awaited  at  Alex 
andria  the  movements  of  the  companies 
left  there,  to  come  on  with  the  guns  and 
military  stores. 

When  Braddock  reached  Frederick- 
town,  he  found  the  troops  in  great  want 
of  provisions,  there  being  no  cattle  laid  in 
as  yet.  He  applied  to  Governor  Sharpe, 
of  Maryland,  in  the  emergency ;  but  so 
little  influence  had  this  official  in  his  own 
province,  that  he  could  not  get  either 
wagons  or  provisions.  The  general  sent 
round  the  country,  however,  and  succeed 
ed  in  purchasing  a  few  head  of  cattle. 
While  Braddock  was  thus  harassed,  and 
his  movements  almost  entirely  stopped, 
Benjamin  Franklin  fortunately  arrived  at 
Fredericktown.  The  nominal  purpose  of 
his  visit,  as  he  was  then  at  the  head  of 
the  colonial  postoffice  department,  was 
to  make  suitable  provision  with  Brad- 
dock  for  the  conveyance  of  despatches 
to  and  from  the  provincial  governments. 
Franklin's  real  object,  however,  was  un 
doubtedly  to  acquaint  himself  with  the 
details  of  the  expedition,  and  to  reinstate 
if  possible,  his  own  province  of  Pennsyl 
vania  in  the  good  opinion  of  the  army. 

On  Franklin's  arrival  in  Fredericktown, 
Braddock  expressed  a  particular  desire 


GO 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


ART    T 


to  see  him,  and,  from  the  first  interview, 
was  greatly  impressed  with  the  superior 
sagacity  of  his  visiter,  and  solicited  his 
advice.  Franklin  now  became  a  daily 
guest  at  Braddock's  table,  and  has  left  in 
his  autobiography  an  interesting  record 
of  his  occasional  talk  with  the  general : 
"  One  day,  in  conversation  with  him," 
says  Franklin,  "  he  was  giving  me  some 
account  of  his  intended  progress.  'After 
taking  Fort  Du  Quesne,'  said  he, '  I  am 
to  proceed  to  Frontenac,  if  the  season 
will  allow  time ;  and  I  suppose  it  will,  for 
Du  Quesne  can  hardly  detain  me  above 
three  or  four  days :  and  then  I  can  see 
nothing  that  can  obstruct  my  march  to 
Niagara.' 

"  Having  before  revolved  in  my  mind," 
Franklin  observes,  "  the  long  line  his  ar 
my  must  make  in  their  march  by  a  very 
narrow  road,  to  be  cut  for  them  through 
the  woods  and  bushes,  and  also  what  I 
had  heard  of  a  former  defeat  of  fifteen 
hundred  French,  who  had  invaded  the 
Illinois  country,  I  had  conceived  some 
doubts  and  some  fears  for  the  event  of 
this  campaign ;  but  I  ventured  only  to 
say :  *  To  be  sure,  sir,  if  you  arrive  well 
before  Du  Quesne  with  these  fine  troops, 
so  well  provided  with  artillery,  the  fort, 
though  completely  fortified,  and  assisted 
with  a  very  strong  garrison,  can  proba 
bly  make  but  a  short  resistance.  The 
only  danger  I  apprehend  of  obstruction 
to  your  march,  is  from  the  ambuscades 
of  the  Indians,  who,  by  constant  practice, 
are  dexterous  in  laying  and  executing 
them ;  and  the  slender  line,  nearly  four 
miles  long,  which  your  army  must  make, 
may  expose  it  to  be  attacked  by  surprise 


on  its  flanks,  and  to  be  cut  like  thread 
into  several  pieces,  which  from  their  dis 
tance  can  not  come  up  in  time  to  support 
one  another.' 

"  He  smiled  at  my  ignorance,  and  re 
plied  :  '  These  savages  may  indeed  be  a 
formidable  enemy  to  raw  American  mili 
tia,  but  upon  the  king's  regular  and  dis 
ciplined  troops,  sir,  it  is  impossible  they 
should  make  an  impression.'  I  was  con 
scious,"  adds  Franklin,  "  of  an  impropri 
ety  in  my  disputing  with  a  military  man 
in  matters  of  his  profession,  and  said  no 
more." 

This  was  just  the  advice  wanted,  and 
the  general,  with  his  wrong-headed  ob 
stinacy  and  old-fashioned  camp  prejudice, 
was  just  the  man  to  disregard  it.  In  an 
other  matter,  however,  where  his  milita 
ry  self-conceit  did  not  interfere,  the  gen 
eral  listened  to  Franklin,  and,  as  we  shall 
see,  to  advantage.  "  It  is  a  pity  the  troops 
had  not  landed  in  Pennsylvania,  where 
every  farmer  has  his  wagon,"  remarked 
Franklin.  "  Then,  sir,"  answered  Brad- 
dock,  "  you,  who  are  a  man  of  interest 
there,  can  probably  procure  them  for  me, 
and  I  beg  you  will." 

Franklin  undertook  to  obtain  at  once 
what  was  wanted,  and  was  as  good  as  his 
promise.  A  paper  being  drawn  up  by 
the  general,  giving  Franklin  due  authori 
ty  to  hire  for  the  use  of  the  army,  fifteen 
hundred  saddle  or  pack  horses,  and  one 
hundred  and  fifty  wagons,  to  be  drawn 
by  four  horses  each,  that  man,  so  prompt 
and  full  of  resource,  had  them  all  in  read 
iness  to  send  in  less  than  a  fortnight. 
The  means  he  adopted  were  characteris 
tic  of  Franklin's  shrewd  knowledge  of 


COLONIAL.] 


FRANKLIN  TO  THE  RESCUE. 


61 


mankind,  and  his  business  tact.  He  had 
a  handbill  printed,  and  sent  everywhere 
about  the  country.  In  this  document 
Franklin  shrewdly  appealed  to  the  fears 
of  the  people,  by  reminding  them  that 
"  it  was  proposed  to  send  an  armed  force 
immediately  into  the  various  counties,  to 
seize  as  many  of  the  best  carriages  and 
horses  as  should  be  wanted,  and  compel 
as  many  persons  into  the  service  as 
should  be  necessary  to  drive  and  take 
care  of  them." — "I  apprehended,"  says 
Franklin,  "  that  the  progress  of  a  body 
of  soldiers  through  these  counties  on 
such  an  occasion,  especially  considering 
the  temper  they  are  in  and  their  resent 
ment  against  us,  would  be  attended  with 
many  and  great  inconveniences  to  the  in 
habitants  ;  and  therefore  more  willingly 
undertook  the  trouble  of  trying  first  what 
might  be  done  by  fair  and  equitable 
means."  He  concluded  w.ith  the  most 
telling  point  when  he  said,  "  If  this  meth 
od  of  obtaining  the  wagons  and  horses 
is  not  likely  to  succeed,  I  am  obliged  to 
send  word  to  the  general  in  fourteen 
days ;  and  I  suppose  Sir  John  St.  Clair, 
the  hussar,  with  a  body  of  soldiers,  will 
immediately  enter  the  province,  of  which 
I  shall  be  sorry  to  hear,  because,  /  am, 
very  sincerely  and  truly,  your  friend  and  ivell- 
ivisher,  B.  FRANKLIN." 

The  inflammatory  Sir  John  had  already 
made  himself,  by  his  explosive  wrath  on 
former  occasions,  sufficiently  formidable 
to  those  who  had  been  exposed  to  it; 
but  this  threatening  aspect  of  him  as 
"  the  hussar,"  was  calculated  to  make  him 
still  more  terrific,  particularly  to  the  Ger 
man  farmers  of  Pennsylvania,  who  re 


tained  a  very  lively  dread  of  the  summa 
ry  proceedings  of  the  hussars  of  their 
fatherland.  This  home-thrust  had  such 
an  astonishing  effect,  that  the  Germans, 
from  being  the  most  remiss- before,  sud 
denly  became  the  most  forward,  and  con 
tributed  more  than  their  share  of  the  re 
quired  supplies. 

Braddock  was  so  gratified  with  the 
success  of  Franklin's  exertions,  that,  in 
his  despatches  to  the  British  government, 
he  said  emphatically  it  was  almost  the 
first  instance  of  integrity,  address,  and 
ability,  that  he  had  met  with  in  all  the 
provinces. 

Franklin  volunteered  to  do  another 
act  of  gracious  service  to  the  army,  and 
did  it  with  the  same  promptitude.  While 
at  Fredericktown,  he  was  supping  with 
Colonel  D unbar,  the  second  in  command, 
when  that  officer  remarked  that  his  sub 
alterns  were  hard  put  to  it,  with  their 
small  pay  and  the  dearness  of  everything 
on  the  route  of  an  army  on  the  march, 
to  provide  themselves  with  what  was  ne 
cessary  to  their  comfort.  Franklin,  on 
his  return  to  Philadelphia,  bore  this  in 
mind,  and  succeeded  in  squeezing  out  of 
the  assembly  sufficient  money  to  buy  a 
small  stock  of  luxuries  for  each  of  the 
subalterns,  of  whom  there  were  a  score, 
under  Dunbar  and  Sir  Peter  ILilket. 
Packages  were  accordingly  made  up,  con 
taining  tea,  good  butter,  some  dozens  of 
old  Madeira,  a  couple  of  gallons  of  Ja 
maica,  six  dried  tongues,  and  various 
smaller  comforts  for  the  inner  man,  and 
despatched.  These  timely  supplies  were 
very  welcome,  and  the  officers  who  re 
ceived  them  gratefully  returned  their 


r: 


62 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


hearty  thanks  to  those  who  "  had  been 
so  good  as  to  think  of  them  in  so  genteel 
a  manner." 

The  general,  having  sent  forward  the 
forty-eighth  regiment  under  Colonel  Dun- 
bar,  soon  after  followed,  accom 
panied  by  his  aids-de-camp  and 
secretary.  Braddock  had  purchased  a 
coach  from  Governor  Sharpe,of  Maryland, 
in  which  he  now  travelled,  with  consid 
erable  state,  having,  as  he  dashed  along, 


April  30. 


a  bodyguard  of  lightrhorse,  with  his  staff 
at  their  head,  galloping  on  either  side. 
In  this  style  the  general  reached  Win 
chester,  and,  not  finding  the  Indians  he 
expected  there,  started  for  Fort  Cumber 
land.  Coming  up  with  the  forty-fourth 
regiment,  under  Dunbar,  the  general  en 
tered,  with  the  troops  following  him,  and 
their  drums  beating  "The  Grenadiers' 
March ;"  and,  on  his  arrival,  was  saluted 
with  a  volley  of  seventeen  guns. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  Hard  March  to  Fort  Cumberland. — The  General  swears  terribly. — Delay. — What  is  thought  of  it  in  England. — Am 
val  of  the  Artillery. — Their  Hard  Experience  by  the  Route. — A  Rattlesnake  Colonel. — Braddock's  Force  smaller  than 
expected. — British  Contempt  of  Provincial  Troops. — The  Grand  Display  of  Braddock's  Camp. — Order. — Exercises. — 
Amusements. — Death. — Good  Cooks  and  Good  Eating  at  Headquarters. — Good  Morals. — Arrival  of  Indians. — While 
Thunder  and  his  Daughter  Bright  Lightning. — Entertainment  of  the  Savages. — "  Drams  round." — The  Indians  disaf 
fected. — The  Indian  Women  the  Cause  of  the  Trouble. — Departure  of  the  Indians. — An  Occasional  Delaware  shows 
Himself. — Delawares  suspected  of  Villany. — Captain  Jack  and  his  Indian-Killers. — The  Captain's  History. — Brad- 
dock's  Contempt. — The  Consequences. — Captain  Jack  goes  off  in  a  Huff,  and  all  his  Indian-Killers  with  him. — Arri 
val  of  Horses  and  Wagons  sent  by  Franklin. — First  Appearance  of  Daniel  Morgan  on  the  Field  of  History. — Daniel 
and  the  British  Officer. — No  Flour  and  Beef. — A  Detachment  of  Cavalry  and  Wagons  ordered  out  for  Supplies. — 
Braddock  in  a  Rage. — The  March  begun. — The  Hard  Road. — Five  Miles  in  Two  Days. — Lightening  the  March. — 
Women  and  Baggage  sent  back  to  the  Fort. — Shades  of  Death. — Arrival  at  Little  Meadows. 


THE  army  had  had  a  tedious  march  to 
Will's  creek,  or  Fort  Cumberland,  as  it 
was  now  called,  in  honor  of  the  British 
prince.  The  general  himself,  having  had 
a  good  opportunity  of  seeing  the  absurdi 
ty  of  the  route,  and,  as  Washington  writes, 
"  of  damning  it  very  heartily,"  was  deter 
mined  now  to  abandon  his  fine  coach  and 
his  stately  progress,  and  submit  himself 
to  the  hard  requirements  of  the  wild 
country  in  which  he  had  begun  his  cam 
paign. 

Twenty-seven  days  had  been  already 
consumed  in  the  march,  and  there  was 
every  prospect  of  a  long  detention  now 


at  Fort  Cumberland.  The  British  min 
isters,  when  they  heard  of  the  delays, 
were  greatly  vexed.  "  The  duke  of  Cum 
berland,"  says  Walpole,  "  who  is  now  the 
soul  of  the  regency,  is  much  dissatisfied 
at  the  slowness  of  General  Braddock,  who 
does  not  march  as  if  he  was  at  all  impa 
tient  to  be  scalped.  It  is  said  for  him  that 
he  has  had  bad  guides,  that  the  roads 
are  exceedingly  difficult,  and  that  it  was 
necessary  to  drag  as  much  artillery  as  he 

does This  is  not  the  first  time,"  adds 

the  malevolent  gossip,  "  that  the  duke 
has  found  that  brutality  did  not  neces 
sarily  constitute  a  general." 


COLONIAL.] 


CAMP  AT  FORT  CUMBERLAND. 


63 


Braddock,  however,  was  not  to  blame 
for  these  delays,  which  fretted  his  impet 
uous  temper  as  much  as  they  could  pos 
sibly  have  annoyed  his  patron  the  duke  of 
Cumberland.  The  general  had  met  with 
disappointment  at  every  point  and  turn. 
Here  at  the  fort,  where  he  had  been  prom 
ised  the  greatest  plenty  of  all  kinds  of 
provisions,  none  that  were  fresh  could  be 
obtained.  The  men  had  already  marched 
through  an  uninhabited  wilderness,  with 
out  anything  but  salted  meat,  and  there 
was  every  reason  to  fear  that  their  health 
would  suffer  in  consequence.  The  gen 
eral  did  all  in  his  power  to  remedy  these 
deficiencies  by  offering  large  rewards  and 
lending  money  out  of  his  own  pocket  to 
several  people,  in  order  to  enable  them 
to  provide  the  camp.  By  these  means 
some  supplies  were  procured,  but  not  in 
sufficient  abundance  to  satisfy  their  wants. 

The  artillery,  after  being;  de- 
May  20,  J' 

tamed  at  Alexandria  a  whole 

fortnight,  awaiting  wagons  and  horses, 
now  came  in,  under  the  command  of 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Gage.  The  party, 
which  was  accompanied  by  the  naval  de 
tachment  of  seamen,  had  suffered  greatly 
on  the  route.  They  had  been  often  with 
out  provisions  for  themselves  and  fodder 
for  their  horses.  The  men,  worn  out  with 
hauling  the  guns  over  "prodigious  mount 
ains,"  and  exposed  to  the  fitful  changes 
of  the  spring  weather,  now  suffering  from 
the  sultry  heat  and  again  from  the  damp 
cold  and  heavy  dews,  became  ill,  and 
some  so  disabled,  that  they  were  obliged 
to  be  left  on  the  route.  They  found  lit 
tle  encouragement  from  the  various  semi- 
barbarous  frontiersmen  at  whose  losr- 


houses  and  forts  they  stopped  on  their 
march.  There  was  " one  Cressop,  a  rattle 
snake  colonel  and  a  d d  rascal,"  whom 

they  had  a  particular  reason  for  remem 
bering  for  his  roguery  and  ill  service. 

The  forces  were  now  all  collected  at 
Fort  Cumberland.  There  were  the  two 
regiments  sent  out  from  England,  com 
posed  of  a  few  hundred  more  than  their 
original  strength  of  a  thousand,  but  not 
up  to  their  full  complement  of  fifteen 
hundred,  as  the  expected  recruits  from 
Maryland  and  Virginia  had  not  been  ob 
tained.  There  was  the  troop  of  Virginia 
light>horse  ;  the  two  independent  compa 
nies  from  New  York,  under  Captain  Ho 
ratio  Gates ;  two  companies  of  "  hatchet- 
men,"  or  pioneers ;  a  company  of  guides ; 
the  detachment  of  sailors,  and  a  few  In 
dians,  making  in  all  about  two  thousand 
men. 

The  British  officers,  with  their  set  no 
tions  about  military  order  and  appear 
ance,  were  not  very  well  pleased  with  the 
looks 'of  the  provincials.  They  had  been 
submitted  to  a  systematic  drill.  Ensign 
Allen,  their  drill-master,  "had  taken  great 
pains  with  them,  and  they  performed 
their  evolutions  and  firings  as  well  as 
could  be  expected ;  but  their  languid, 
spiritless,  and  unsoldier-like  appearance, 
considered  with  the  lowness  and  igno 
rance  of  most  of  their  officers,  gave  little 
hopes  of  their  future  good  behavior." 
Their  "  future  good  behavior,"  however, 
was  such  as  to  put  to  the  blush  the  boast 
ed  superiority  of  the  regulars,  and  to 
prove  how  little  they  deserved  this  con 
tempt,  which  was  common  to  British  gen 
eral  and  British  subaltern. 


G4 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


Braddock  shared  in  this  depreciation 
of  the  provincial  soldier,  and  wrote :  "The 
American  troops  have  little  courage  or 
good  will.  I  expect  from  them  almost 
no  military  service,  though  I  have  em 
ployed  the  best  officers  to  drill  them." 
lie  became  so  rude  in  his  denunciations 
of  the  provincials,  that  Washington's  pa 
triotism  was  wounded,  and  he  warmly 
took  up  the  defence  of  his  countrymen. 
He,  however,  gave  up  the  general,  as  of 
impracticable  obstinacy  and  prejudice, 
and  as  one  who  was  "  incapable  of  argu 
ing  without  warmth,  or  giving  up  any 
point  he  had  asserted,  be  it  ever  so  incom 
patible  with  reason  or  common  sense." 

Doubtless  the  provincial  troops  did  ap 
pear,  during  these  comparatively  holyday 
tunes  at  Fort  Cumberland,  to  great  dis 
advantage  with  the  British  regulars.  Du 
ring  the  compulsory  detention  here,  Brad- 
dock  had  a  fine  opportunity  of  displaying 
some  of  his  London-park  tactics,  and  even 
Washington  was  struck  with  admiration 
at  the  effective  show  and  strict  discipline 
of  the  British  grenadiers.  The  general 
himself  kept  up  considerable  state.  He 
held  a  daily  levee  at  his  tent  every  morn 
ing  from  ten  to  eleven  o'clock,  and  ex 
pected  his.  various  officers  to  present 
themselves  in  full  uniform.  The  camp 
was  arranged  on  the  most  approved  prin 
ciples  of  military  art,  and  the  strictest 
system  and  most  regular  order  every 
where  established.  The  troops  were  dai 
ly  exercised  and  submitted  to  the  seve 
rest  discipline.  None  of  the  usual  cere 
monies  were  omitted,  but  all  as  strictly 
celebrated  as  if  the  troops  had  been  sta 
tioned  under  the  Tower-guns  at  London, 


instead  of  being  encamped  in  a  wilder 
ness. 

A  Cap  tain  Bromley  dies,  and  his  funeral 
takes  place,  with  every  detail  of  military 
order  and  respect,  notwithstanding  the 
discomforts  of  the  camp  on  "an  exces 
sively  hot  day."  A  captain's  guard  march 
ed  before  the  corpse,  with  the  captain  of 
it  in  the  rear,  the  firelocks  reversed,  and 
the  drums  beating  "The  Dead  March." 
On  coming  near  the  grave,  the  guard 
formed  two  lines,  facing  each  other,  rest 
ing  OR  their  arms  with  the  muzzles  down 
ward,  and  leaning  on  the  butts  of  their 
muskets.  The  body,  with  the  sword  and 
sash  of  the  dead  captain  on  the  coffin, 
was  now  carried  between  the  two  lines 
of  soldiers,  and  followed  by  the  officers, 
walking  two  and  two.  The  chaplain,  a 
Mr.  Philip  Hughes,  having  read  the  ser 
vice,  the  guard  fired  three  volleys  over 
the  grave,  and  marched  back  to  the 


o 

camp. 


There  was,  however,  with  all  this  strict- 
ness  of  discipline,  an  effort  made  to  keep 
up  the  spirits  of  the  camp  by  occasional 
amusements.  The  young  officers  got  up 
races  and  hunting-parties ;  and  the  gen 
eral,  who  had  his  cooks  from  Europe,  and 
prided  himself  upon  his  kitchen,  gave  fre 
quent  invitations  to  dinner.  There  was, 
however,  a  strict  attention  paid  to  the 
morals  of  the  troops.  No  sutler  was  al 
lowed  to  sell  more  than  one  gill  of  spirits 
a  day  to  each  man,  and  this  was  to  be 
diluted  with  three  gills  of  water;  and 
every  soldier  found  drunk  was  sent  im 
mediately  to  the  guardhouse,  and  when 
sober,  next  morning,  received  two  hun 
dred  lashes.  Theft  was  punished  with 


COLONIAL.] 


INDIAN  CHIEFS  AND  BEAUTIES. 


6f> 


death.  Gambling  was  prohibited  to  the 
non-commissioned  officer  and  common 
soldier,  under  a  penalty  of  three  hundred 
lashes;  and  all  lookers-on  were  deemed 
principals,  and  punished  the  same. 

Of  all  the  Indians  who  had  been  prom 
ised,  only  thirty  as  yet  had  arrived  at  the 
fort.  These  were  some  chiefs  and  war 
riors  belonging  to  the  Six  Nations.  There 
was  Monicotoha,  the  wise  man,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  do  all  the  speaking ;  White 
Thunder,  who  had  "  a  daughter  called 
Bright  Lightning ;"  he  it  was  who  had 
charge  of  the  wampum-belts ;  and  there 
were  also  Silver-Heels  and  Great  Tree, 
all  potent  men  in  their  various  tribes. 
As  soon  as  they  arrived,  the  general  re 
ceived  them  at  his  tent,  surrounded  by 
all  his  officers  in  full  uniform,  and  with 
his  guard  drawn  up  and  presenting  arms. 
The  interpreter  was  instructed  to  tell 
the  assembled  chiefs  that  their  brothers 
the  English,  who  were  their  old  friends, 
were  come  to  assure  them  that  every 
misunderstanding  that  had  been  in  for 
mer  times  should  now  be  buried  under 
that  great  mountain,  which  was  throw 
ing  its  shadow  over  the  camp.  A  belt 
of  wampum  was  then  passed,  with  still 
further  assurances  of  friendship,  and  the 
whole  concluded  with  "  the  ceremony  of 
drams  round." 

Again,  on  the  next  day,  the  general 
had  another  reception  of  his  Indian 
friends,  when  he  expressed  his  great  sor 
row  at  the  death  of  the  half-king,  old 
Tanacharisson,  Washington's  capricious 
friend,  and  his  desire  that  they  should 
take  up  the  hatchet  for  the  great  king  of 
England,  their  father,  against  the  French. 
9 


Presents  of  rings,  beads,  knives,  and  paint, 
being  distributed,  the  Indians  went  of^ 
greatly  rejoicing,  and, to  "show  they  were 
pleased,  made  a  most  horrible  noise,  dan 
cing  all  night." 

"  For  a  time  all  went  well,"  says  Wash 
ington  Irving,  whose  description  of  the 
issue  we  borrow;  for  when  he  once -gets 
upon  his  favorite  subject  of  the  Indians, 
his  narrative  becomes  so  charmingly  pic 
turesque  and  humorous,  that  we  listen  to 
it  with  such  delight  as  not  to  care  to  in 
vestigate  its  accuracy.  "The  Indians 
had  their  separate  camp,"  writes  Irving, 
"  where  they  passed  half  the  night,  sing 
ing,  dancing,  and  howling.  The  British 
were  amused  by  their  strange  ceremonies, 
their  savage  antics,  and  savage  decora 
tions.  The  Indians,  on  the  other  hand, 
loitered  by  day  about  the  English  camp, 
fiercely  painted  and  arrayed,  gazing  with 
silent  admiration  at  the  parade  of  the 
troops,  their  marchings  and  evolutions ; 
and  delighted  with  the  horse-races,  with 
which  the  young  officers  recreated  them 
selves. 

"  Unluckily,  the  warriors  had  brought 
their  families  with  them  to  Will's  creek, 
and  the  women  were  even  fonder  than 
the  men  of  loitering  about  the  British 
camp.  They  were  not  destitute  of  at 
tractions,  for  the  young  squaws  resemble 
the  gipsies,  having  seductive  forms,  small 
hands  and  feet,  and  soft  voices.  Among 
those  who  visited  the  camp  was  one  who 
no  doubt  passed  for  an  Indian  princess. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  the  sachem, 
White  Thunder,  and  bore  the  dazzling 
name  of  Bright  Lightning.  The  charms 
of  these  wild-wood  beauties  were  soon 


66 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


acknowledged.  '  The  squaws/  writes  Sec 
retary  Peters,  'bring  in  money  plenty; 
the  officers  are  scandalously  fond  of  them.' 

"The  jealousy  of  the  warriors  was 
aroused ;  some  of  them  became  furious. 
To  prevent  discord,  the  squaws  wrere  for 
bidden  to  come  into  the  British  camp. 
This  did  not  prevent  their  being  sought 
elseAvhere.  It  was  ultimately  found  ne 
cessary,  for  the  sake  of  quiet,  to  send 
Bright  Lightning,  with  all  the  other  wo 
men  and  children,  back  to  Aughquick. 
White  Thunder  and  several  of  the  war 
riors  accompanied  them  for  their  protec 
tion." 

The  Indians,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
never  returned  with  their  warriors  in 
such  numbers  as  they  had  promised. 
Some  have  blamed  the  general,  saying 
that  he  underrated  their  services.  It  is 
probable,  with  his  contempt  for  every 
thing  but  "  regular"  warfare,  he  did  ;  but, 
at  the  same  time,  he  seems  to  have  treat 
ed  his  savage  visitors  always  with  great 
consideration.  Franklin  says, "  He  slight 
ed  or  neglected  them,  and  they  gradually 
left  him,  although  they  might  have  been 
of  great  use  to  his  army  as  guides  or 
scouts,  if  he  had  treated  them  kindly." 
It  was  not,  however,  so  much  the  fault 
of  the  general,  as  the  treacherous  char 
acter  of  the  people  he  had  to  deal  with. 
Some  of  the  Indians  evidently  were  act 
ing  faithlessly  from  the  beginning,  and 
only  coquetting  with  the  British,  to  ob 
tain  gifts,  or  aAvaiting  the  result  of  the 
struggle  with  the  French,  in  order  to 
give  in  their  adherence  to  the  stronger. 

Delaware  warriors  were,  almost  daily, 
coming  into  the  camp,  with  offers  of  ser 


vice,  and  pretended  information  of  the 
enemy.  The  British  officers  were  from 
the  beginning  suspicious;  and  the  out 
spoken  sailor,  who  has  left  a  journal  of 
the  expedition,  says,  "  These  people  [the 
Delawares]  are  villains,  and  always  side 
with  the  strongest."  This  he  says  just 
after  some  of  them  had  come  into  the 
camp  and  told  the  general  that  they 
would  return  home,  collect  their  warriors, 
and  meet  him  on  their  march.  Another 
Delaware  turns  up  again,  with  some  du 
bious  information  about  Fort  Du  Quesne, 
when  our  sailor  declares,  "  I  believe  this 
fellow  is  a  villain,  as  he  is  a  Delaware, 
who  never  were  our  friends."  Whatever 
may  have  been  the  cause,  Braddock  had 
never  at  any  time  over  half  a  hundred 
Indians  with  him,  and  of  these  only  eight 
were  left  at  the  close  of  the  expedition. 
The  general,  however,  was  more  to 
blame  for  another  loss,  that  of  Captain 
Jack  and  his  band  of  "Indian-killers." 
This  man  was  an  early  settler  on  the 
frontiers  of  Pennsylvania,  where  with  his 
family  he  lived  the  life  of  an  occasional 
hunter  and  farmer.  During  the  season 
for  game,  he  was  abroad  in  the  forest- 
wilderness,  with  his  gun  upon  his  shoul 
der,  and  in  his  leathern  suit,  engaged  in 
the  chase  for  deer,  the  bear,  and  the  fox. 
He  thus  supplied  his  family  with  wild 
meat,  and  gathered  skins  for  barter  at 
the  various  trading-posts  with  the  fur- 
dealers,  who  supplied  him  in  exchange 
with  guns,  ammunition,  Jamaica  spirits, 
and  articles  of  food  and  clothing  required 
by  himself  and  family.  When  not  occu 
pied  in  the  chase,  he  busied  himself  in 
cultivating  the  patch  of  cleared  ground 


COLONIAL.] 


CAPTAIN  JACK. 


G7 


which  surrounded  his  rude  log-house,  and 
planting  it  with  potatoes  and  Indian  corn. 
Though  roughened  by  the  wild  life  he 
led  on  the  frontier,  he  had  taken  to  him 
self  a  wife,  who  had  borne  him  several 
little  ones,  and  his  independent  and  some 
what  reckless  disposition  was  thus  still  in 
subjection  to  the  ties  of  civilization. 

One  day,  the  hunter  returns,  loaded 
with  game,  in  eager  expectation  of  a 
warm  welcome  from  wife  and  children, 
when,  as  he  reaches  the  familiar  spot  of 
his  home,  he  finds  his  log-house  burned 
to  the  ground,  and  his  family  lying  dead 
and  mangled  amid  the  ashes  !  This  cruel 
work  he  knew  at  once  to  have  been  that 
of  the  ruthless  savage.  The  rude  ele 
ments  of  the  man's  character  now  swelled 
up  with  a  violence  that  overmastered  all 
the  gentler  emotions,  Avhich  were  once, 
but  alas !  no  longer  called  forth,  at  the 
soft  entreaty  of  wife  and  child.  He 
swore  revenge  against  the  whole  race  of 
Indians  ;  and,  gathering  about  him  other 
frontiersmen,  broken  loose  like  himself 
from  the  bonds  of  kindred  and  civilized 
life,  he  commenced  a  career  of  such  fierce 
onslaught  upon  his  savage  enemies,  that 
"The  Black  Hunter  of  the  Forest"— for 
thus  he  was  called,  from  the  swarthiness 
of  his  visage — was  a  terror  from  the 
northern  lakes  to  the  Chesapeake. 

Such  was  the  Captain  Jack,  who  with 
his  men  had  now  offered  himself  to  Brad- 
dock,  and  been  rejected,  because  forsooth 
the  British  guardsman  would  not  bate  a 
jot  of  his  Hyde-park  rules  of  discipline, 
even  in  the  wilderness !  Jack  had  made 
it  a  condition  of  his  services  that  he  and 
his  men  should  not  be  subjected  to  the 


May  20, 


routine  of  military  discipline.  Braddock, 
with  an  absurd  obstinacy,  refused  compli 
ance.  The  captain  and  his  "Indian-kil 
lers"  moodily  departed.  The  general 
made  a  great  mistake.  These  bold  woods 
men,  familiar  as  they  were  with  the  wild 
life  of  the  borders,  and  the  habits  of  the 
Indians — whom  they  even  resembled  in 
appearance,  their  faces  being  blackened 
by  exposure  to  sun  and  weather,  and 
their  garb  being  of  the  rude  Indian  ma 
terial  and  make — would  have  been  the 
best  force  to  act  as  guides  through  the 
forest,  and  as  a  protection  against  the 
chances  of  a  savage  ambuscade. 

The  horses  and  wagons  which,  as  will 
be  recollected,  Franklin  had  undertaken 
to  supply,  and  had  so  promptly 
got  ready,  now  reached  the  camp, 
after  considerable  detention  on  the  rough 
roads.  There  came  with  the  wagons  a 
remarkable  man,  of  whom  we  shall  hear 
more  in  the  progress  of  our  history  of 
the  battles  of  America,.  This  was  Daniel 
Morgan,  of  Pennsylvania.  Living  a  some 
what  reckless  and  dissipated  life,  but  be 
ing  sufficiently  well  to  do  in  the  world 
as  to  own  a  wagon  and  horses,  he  had 
joined  the  expedition.  He  was  a  person 
of  humble  position,  but  of  high  spirit; 
and  had  hardly  started  in  this  new  enter 
prise,  when  an  officer,  taking  advantage 
of  the  former,  had  an  opportunity  of  find^ 
ing  out  the  latter.  Daniel,  being  behind 
time  one  day  with  his  horses,  was  severe 
ly  reprimanded  by  the  military  gentle 
man  in  command,  to  whom  he  answered 
in  terms  not  usually  addressed  in  the  Brit 
ish  army  to  a  superior.  The  officer  drew 
his  sword.  Daniel  brandished  his  whip. 


68 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


The  officer  made  a  thrust.  Daniel  knock 
ed  the  weapon  out  of  his  hand,  and  lashed 
him  with  his  wThip.  The  teamster  was 
accordingly  arrested  and  punished.  Five 
hundred  lashes  was  the  sentence  ;  but,  as 
Daniel  fainted  after  the  first  four  hun 
dred  and  fifty,  the  last  half-hundred  were 
remitted.  Daniel  has  reported  that  the 
officer  subsequently  acknowledged  that 
the  fault  was  his  own,  and  handsomely 
apologized. 

Although  the  wagons  and  horses  had 
arrived,  they  did  not  bring  with  them  the 
supplies  of  food  and  stores  expected. 
That  "  rattlesnake  colonel"  Cressop  had 
allowed  the  teams  to  pass  his  fort  at  Co- 
negogee  without  sending  the  flour  con 
tracted  for;  and  the  fellow's  father  turned 
out  to  be  as  great  a  rogue  as  the  son,  for, 
although  he  had  sent  the  beef,  it  was  ne 
cessary  to  bury  it  as  soon  as  it  reached 
the  camp.  The  father  had  been  paid  to 
salt  this  beef,  whereas  the  old  rascal  had 
put  it  up  without  pickle,  and  in  dry  casks 
which  could  never  have  contained  any. 

Without  flour  and  beef,  the  general 
was  obliged  to  send  thirty  wagons,  with 
a  detachment  under  Washington,  to  Win 
chester,  over  sixty  miles  of  mountainous 
and  rocky  country,  for  a  supply.  Three 
hundred  pack-horses  were  also  ordered 
off  for  flour;  and  a  troop  of  light-horse 
to  bring  up  the  rascal  Cressop  from  Co- 
negogee,  full  ninety  miles  distant. 

Braddock  became  every  day  more  and 
more  inflamed  against  the  provinces,  and 
with  reason,  for  they  all  failed  in  their  en 
gagements  toward  him.  Governor  Mor 
ris's  secretary,  Mr.  Richard  Peters,  came 
in  for  a  large  share  of  the  general's  anger, 


having  just  arrived  in  camp  when  the 
raging  storm  wras  at  its  height.  Peters 
asked  for  a  guard  to  protect  the  laborers 
on  the  road  which  was  being  made,  in 
accordance  with  Braddock's  requisition, 
to  connect  Fort  Cumberland  with  the 
high-roads  of  Pennsylvania,  in  order  to  se 
cure  a  communication  for  reinforcements 
and  provisions  from  that  province.  He 
would  not  supply  guards  for  wood-cut 
ters,  not  he,  declared  the  general,  with 
an  oath ;  let  Pennsylvania  do  it.  Subse 
quently,  however,  Braddock  did  do  it 
himself,  as  without  his  aid  the  road  would 
never  have  made  any  progress ;  for  the 
laborers  were  so  constantly  harassed  by 
their  fears,  and  occasionally  by  the  In 
dians  themselves,  that  they  hardly  ven 
tured  to  go  to  their  work  in  the  wilder 
ness. 

Everything  that  was  done  had  to  be 
done  by  the  general  himself.  It  was  only 

•/  o  •• 

after  he  had  thus  taken  the  work  into 
his  own  hands,  that  he  got  the  necessary 
supplies,  and  was  prepared  to  march. 
Six  weeks  of  valuable  time  had  been  al 
ready  lost,  in  awaiting  the  slow  and  re 
luctant  action  of  the  provincial  govern 
ments.  He  was  again  detained  a  month 
afterward  in  doing  what  ought  to  have 
been  done  long  before  by  the  colonial 
authorities. 

Toward  the  close  of  May,  a  council-of 
war  having  been  called,  the  plan  of  march 
was  agreed  upon.  The  first  preliminary 
step  was  accordingly  made  immediately 

after,  by  sending;  a  detachment 

*    •     I      i    *  j      ^       May  29, 

of  six  hundred  men,  under  the 

command  of  Major  Chapman,  to  act  as 
pioneers  and  open  the  way.  They  started 


COLONIAL.] 


THE  HARD  MARCH. 


69 


June  7. 


at  daybreak,  and  when  night  came  they 
had  only  got  about  two  miles  from  the 
camp,  and  no  wonder ;  for  there  was  a 
mountain  in  the  way,  the  ascent  and  de 
scent  of  which  were  almost  a  perpendic 
ular  rock.  Three  wagons  were  entirely 
destroyed  in  the  operation  of  getting 
past  this  obstruction,  and  "many  more 
were  extremely  shattered," although  three 
hundred  men,  with  a  company  of  miners, 
had  been  engaged  several  days  previous 
ly  in  making  that  hill  passable.  A  pas 
sage,  however,  was  soon  after  discovered 
through  a  valley  by  Lieutenant  Spend- 
lowe  of  the  naval  brigade,  by  which  the 
"great  mountain"  could  be  avoided,  and 
this  was  adopted  by  the  general  for  the 
march. 

Sir  Peter  Halket  was  the  next 
to  follow  Major  Chapman,  with 
his  brigade,  artillery,  and  baggage-wag 
ons.  Three  days  subsequently,  Colonel 
Dunbar  marched  with  his  division ;  and 
a  few  hours  afterward,  General 
Braddock,  accompanied  by  his 
aids-de-camp,  set  out  with  the  remainder 
of  the  forces. 

The  general  was  not  long  in  discover 
ing  that  he  had  engaged  in  an  underta 
king  full  of  difficulty  and  danger.  The 
march  was  over  a  rough  country — now 
through  a  deep  forest,  which  required  to 
DC  cleared  at  every  step  ;  and  again  over 
mountains,  which  demanded  all  the  skill 
of  the  sailors,  and  the  constant  labor  of 
the  soldiers,  to  scale  with  their  heavy  ar 
tillery  and  baggage.  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Burton  had  ridden  back  to  the  general, 
and  reported  that  he  had  been  two  days 
in  marching  about  five  miles,  on  a  better 


June  10. 


road  than  they  were  to  expect  afterward. 
This  induced  Braddock,  on  consultation 
with  his  officers,  to  diminish  the  heavy 
load  with  which  the  army  was  encum 
bered.  Two  six-pounders,  four  cohorns, 
and  a  considerable  quantity  of  stores  and 
ammunition,  were  sent  back  to  the  fort, 
and  twenty  wagons  thus  cleared;  the  load 
of  each  man  was  reduced,  and  the  horses' 
allowance  of  two  hundred  weight  it  was 
found  necessary  to  diminish  one  half,  as 
most  of  the  animals  were  sorry  nags,  in 
capable  of  full  duty.  Even  the  officers 
determined  to  rid  themselves  of  much  of 
their  personal  baggage,  and,  giving  up 
the  marquees  and  their  luxurious  ap 
pointments,  resolved  to  content  them 
selves  with  the  common  soldier's  tent  and 
its  bare  necessities.  They  were  thus  en 
abled  to  make  over  their  superfluous 
horses  for  the  common  service.  The 
general  himself  gave  up  twenty,  which 
proves  him  to  have  had  rather  an  exor 
bitant  stud.  The  weakest  men  in  the 
ranks,  together  with  all  the  women,  with 
the  exception  of  two  to  each  company, 
were  also  sent  back  to  the  fort. 

Lightened  and  relieved  even  as  they 
were  now,  the  march  continued  to  be 
exceedingly  difficult  and  slow,  and  the 
whole  force  did  not  reach  Little  Mead 
ows,  twenty-four  miles  only  from  Fort 
Cumberland,  until  the  1 8th  of  June.  D  u- 
ring  this  march,  although  "all  possible 
care  was  taken,"  the  line  was  sometimes 
extended  to  a  length  of  four  or  five  miles. 
So  soon  came  to  pass  what  Benjamin 
Franklin  foretold  of  the  army  making  "  a 
slender  line  nearly  four  miles  long,  which 
may  expose  it  to  be  attacked  by  surprise 


70 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


on  its  flanks,  and  to  be  cut  like  thread 
into  several  pieces,  which  from  their  dis 
tance  can  not  come  up  in  time  to  sup 
port  one  another." 

Thus  they  toiled  along,  sickened  with 
hard  work,  exposure,  and  bad  fare ;  and 


thus  they  passed  sadly  and  slowly  through 
that  forest  of  pines,  aptly  termed  "  The 
Shades  of  Death,"  and  ominous  of  a  ter 
rible  future,  until  they  finally  came  to  a 
halt  and  pitched  their  tents  at  Little 
Meadows. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Braddock  disposed  to  change  his  Tactics. — Consults  Young  Washington,  his  Aid-de-Camp. — The  Army  divided. — Sir 
John  St.  Clair  in  advance. — A  Foretaste  of  the  Future. — An  Indian  Ambuscade. — Braddock  advances  with  the 
Choicest  of  the  Troops. — Dunbar  left  behind,  to  proceed  leisurely  with  the  Rest. — Braddock  still  indulging  in  his  Old- 
fashioned  Notions. — Great  Crossings  in  a  Week. — Indians  skulking  about. — Sickness  among  the  Troops. — Washing 
ton  ill. — Obliged  to  halt. — Tracks  of  Indians  and  French. — Braddock  becomes  cautious. — Encampment  at  Tliickety 
Run. — News  and  Scalps  from  Fort  Du  Qtiesne. — Gist's  Report. — Smoke  in  the  Valley. — Washington  rejoins  Brad- 
dock. — Monakatuca  Camp. — The  Unfortunate  Death  of  the  Young  Monakatuca. — The  Reverence  paid  by  Braddock 
to  the  Dead. — The  Monongahela  Route. — Crossing  the  Monongahela. — The  Brilliant  Display  of  the  Troops. — The 
Virginians  in  the  Rear. — The  Conflict. — The  Brave  Struggle. — The  Courage  of  Braddock. — Four  Jlorses  shot  under 
Him. — The  General  falls. — The  Retreat. — Its  Horrors. — Washington  unhurt,  though  exposed  to  the  Hottest  Fire. — 
Havoc  of  Officers. 


AT  Little  Meadows,  the  various  bri 
gades  came  in  in  slow  succession,  at  in 
tervals  of  two  or  three  days  of  each  oth 
er  ;  and  the  men,  fatigued  and  dispirited 
by  the  tedious,  laborious,  and  melancholy 
march,  were  glad  to  tent  themselves  with 
in  the  camp,  which  had  been  fortified 
by  Sir  John  St.  Clair  and  his  advance- 
party.  Braddock  now  became  conscious 
of  the  necessity  of  waiving  some  of  his 
old-fashioned,  European  notions  of  mili 
tary  progress.  His  line  he  found  was 
dangerously  weakened  by  the  great  ex 
tent  of  baggage  ;  his  men  were  worn  out 
by  the  fatigue  of  remaining  so  many 
hours  under  arms ;  and  the  horses  grew 
fainter  every  day,  and  many  died. 

The  proud  British  general  now  de 
scended  from  his  high  state  of  dignified 
self-sufficiency,  and  deigned  to  consult 
his  young  provincial  aid-de-camp.  Wash 


ington's  advice  was  solicited,  and  given 
straightforwardly,  but  with  a  discreet 
modesty.  The  garrison  at  Du  Quesne, 
he  reminded  the  general,  was  weak  at 
this  time ;  and  there  was  little  prospect, 
while  the  rivers  were  low,  of  any  addi 
tion  to  its  strength  from  the  coming  in 

O  o 

of  more  men  and  supplies.  Now  was  the 
time,  urged  the  young  Virginian,  to  make 
a  rapid  march  and  strike  an  irresistible 
blow.  He  would  advise,  therefore,  that 
the  general  should  push  on  at  once  with 
a  light  division,  and  leave  the  heavy 
troops  and  baggage  to  follow  after. 
Braddock  approved  of  this  view,  and  de 
termined  to  lay  it  before  his  council-of- 
war,  where  Washington  himself,  of  course, 
from  his  position,  had  no  voice.  The 
plan  of  the  young  Virginian  aid-de-camp 
was  adopted,  and  preparations  made  at 
once  to  carry  it  into  effect. 


COLONIAL.] 


BRADDOCK  ON  THE  ADVANCE. 


71 


Juiie  18. 


Sir  John  Sinclair,  the  deputy 
quartermaster-general,whose  du 
ty  it  was  to  act  as  pioneer,  now  set  out 
with  four  hundred  men,  under  Gage,  to 
cut  and  make  the  road  to  the  "Little 
Crossings,"  situated  on  a  small  stream  emp 
tying  into  Casselman's  river.  They  took 
with  them  the  pack-horses,  laden  with 
tools  and  provisions,  and  two  six-pound 
ers  for  defence.  The  Indians  also  ac 
companied  them,  to  act  as  scouts.  Sir 
John  St.  Glair's  detachment  had  not  pro 
ceeded  far,  when  the  peculiar  hazards 
of  the  march  were  strikingly  exhibited. 
The  Indian  chief  Monokatuca,  or  Scaro- 
vyadi,  as  he  was  sometimes  called,  had 
strayed,  in  company  with  his  son,  in  ad 
vance  of  the  party,  when  he  fell  into  an 
ambuscade  of  French  and  savages.  The 
former  were  for  killing  him  at  once ;  the 
Indians,  however,  refused,  and  declared 
that  they  would  join  the  English  if  they 
did  so.  They  then  agreed  to  tie  him  to 
a  tree,  and  leave  him  there.  The  son 
escaped,  and,  bringing  word  to  his  Indian 
brethren  of  the  whereabouts  of  his  father, 
the  old  chief  was  released  at  once. 

Braddock  himself  set  out  the 
next  day  after  the  departure  of 
St.  Glair,  taking  with  him  the  two  veter 
an  grenadier  companies  and  five  hundred 
rank  and  file  of  the  best  of  the  remain 
ing  troops,  under  the  various  commands 
of  Sir  Peter  Halket,  Lieutenani>Colonel 
Burton,  and  Major  Sparks,  which,  with 
the  eighteen  Virginia  light-horse  and  the 
small  party  of  seamen,  made  up  a  divis 
ion  of  eight  hundred,  all  told.  Dunbar 
and  others  left  behind  were  sorely  vexed 
at  the  preference  given  by  the  general 


June  19. 


to  the  troops  with  which  he  marched 
as  it  was  well  understood  that  his  pur 
pose  had  been  to  select  those  he  believed 
to  be  the  best. 

Disencumbered  as  the  general  compar 
atively  was,  his  march  was  still  slowr. 
He  had  rid  himself  of  much  of  his  artil 
lery  and  baggage,  taking  with  him  only 
four  ho  witzers,each  drawn  by  nine  horses; 
four  twelve-pounders,  with  seven  horses 
each ;  and  thirty  wagons,  with  four  horses 
each.  Braddock  was  still  too  set  in  his 
old  military  notions,  to  adapt  himself  to 
the  requirements  of  the  country ;  for,  as 
Washington  says,  "  instead  of  pushing  on 
with  vigor,  without  regarding  a  little 
rough  road,  they  were  halting  to  level 
every  molehill  and  to  erect  bridges  over 
every  brook,  by  which  means  we  were 
four  days  in  getting  twelve  miles."  With 
this  deliberate  kind  of  procedure,  there 
was  little  chance  of  reaching  Fort  Du 
Quesne  by  the  28th  of  June,  the  time 
proposed,  in  order  to  anticipate  the  arri 
val  of  the  half-thousand  regulars  who 
were  reported  to  be  on  their  march  to 
the  aid  of  the  French  garrison.  They 
did  not,  in  fact,  reach  the  "  Great  Cross 
ings"  on  the  Youghioney  river  until  the 
24th  of  June,  although  it  was  but  seven 
teen  miles,  which  had  taken  a  week  to 
march. 

Braddock  found  himself  always  on  the 
heels  of  the  advance-party  under  Sir  John 
St.  Glair,  with  whom  he  was  constantly 
coming  up.  The  general  was  thus  obliged 
to  halt  until  the  sides  of  a  mountain  were 
cut  through,  or  the  swamps  were  made 
passable.  He  was  not  without  disturb 
ance,  too,  from  daily  rumors  of  the  ap- 


72 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


proach  of  the  enemy,  and  occasional  har 
assment  by  hostile  Indians.  At  one  time 
the  guides  came  running  in,  extremely 
frightened,  and  reporting  that  a  great 
body  of  the  enemy  were  marching  to  at 
tack  the  advanced  guard.  This  alarm 
over,  intelligence  was  brought  that  some 
men,  who  had  roamed  beyond  the  out 
posts,  had  been  shot  and  scalped ;  while 
Indians  were  constantly  observed  skulk 
ing  about,  to  waylay  a  straggler,  or  to 
watch  the  progress  of  the  march.  Horse- 
thieves  abounded,  too ;  and  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  the  fatigued 
nags,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  could  get 
a  nibble  of  pasture,  before  they  were 
driven  off  by  some  of  the  freebooters  of 
the  forest. 

Sickness  also  prevailed  among  the  offi 
cers  and  soldiers,  in  consequence  of  the 
fatigue  and  bad  provisions.  One  of  the 
commanders  of  the  naval  brigade  was 
prostrated  by  fever,  and  sent  back  to  Lit 
tle  Meadows.  Washington  fell  ill,  and, 
being  unable  to  sit  any  longer  on  his 
horse,  was  obliged  to  allow  himself  to  be 
conveyed  in  a  covered  wagon.  He  was 
finally  forced  by  his  disease  to  give  in, 
and  was  induced  at  the  earnest  solicita 
tion  of  Braddock — to  whom  he  had  be 
come  greatly  endeared  from  his  virtues, 
and  was  now  almost  indispensable  from 
the  excellence  of  his  judgment  and  the 
value  of  his  opinions  —  to  stay  behind. 
Washington's  ardor  to  go  on  was  only 
appeased  by  the  solemn  promise  of  Brad- 
dock  that  he  should  have  a  chance  of 
joining  him  before  he  engaged  with  the 
enemy. 

As  Braddock  moved  on  slowly  from 


Juue  25. 


the  "  Great  Crossings,"  he  had  more  and 
more  proof  that  he  was  in  the  Indian 
country,  and  greater  reason  to  be  on  his 
guard  against  the  ambuscades  of  the  wily 
savages.  During  one  day's  march,  an 
Indian  camp  was  discovered,  that  had 
been  just  abandoned,  and  which,  from  the 
number  of  huts,  proved  that  some  hun 
dred  and  seventy  of  these  savages  had 
lately  occupied  them.  They  had  stripped 
the  barks  from  the  trees,  and  inscribed 
upon  them  with  paint  all  kinds  of  threats 
and  bravadoes,  in  the  Indian  and  French 
languages. 

They  now  passed  the  Great  Meadows, 
and  encamped  about  two  miles 
on  the  other  side.  Some  Indians 
making  their  appearance  in  the  neigh 
boring  woods,  the  general  sent  the  light- 
horse,  a  few  Indian  scouts,  and  some  vol 
unteers,  to  surround  them ;  but  they  re 
turned  without  success.  On  taking  up 
their  march  again,  next  day,  they  had 
made  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  their 
late  encampment,  when  they  reached  the 
summit  of  so  steep  a  hill,  that  it  was  ne 
cessary  to  call  in  the  aid  of  the  sailors, 
and  let  down  the  wagons  with  tackle. 

On  this  day,  in  consequence 
of  the  badness  of  the  road,  the 
army  could  only  make  four  miles.  At  the 
halting-place,  which  was  situated  where 
the  Indian  path  to  the  Monongahela  ter 
minates,  was  found  an  Indian  camp  which 
had  been  so  recently  abandoned,  that  the 
fires  were  still  burning.  Triumphant  bra 
vadoes  were  seen  written  upon  the  trees, 
with  the  number  of  scalps  that  had  been 
taken  two  days  before.  There  had  evi 
dently  been  some  French  with  them,  for 


June  26. 


COLONIAL.] 


RETURN  OF  WASHINGTON. 


73 


they  had  inscribed  also  their  names,  and 
many  insolent  expressions,  in  their  own 
language.  The  position  of  the  Indian 
camp  was  strongly  fixed  upon  a  high 
rock,  with  a  narrow  and  steep  ascent  to 
the  top.  In  the  middle  flowed  a  spring. 
It  was  by  the  Indian  pass,  which  led  to 
this  camp,  that  the  French  and  Indian 
force  had  come  which  attacked  Washing 
ton  at  Fort  Necessity.  Traces  were  dis 
covered  of  the  route  taken  by  those  who 
had  so  recently  abandoned  the  place,  and 
some  ninety  volunteers,  provide'3  with 
guides,  issued  out  at  night,  toward  the 
Monongahela,  in  pursuit;  but  although 
they  found  by  the  way  some  provisions 
and  a  batteau,  which  they  destroyed,  they 
saw  no  men. 

Great  precautions  were  now  taken,  at 
every  halting-place  on  the  march,  lest 
the  Indians  and  the  French  should  come 
upon  them  unawares.  The  pickets  were 
doubled ;  the  men  kept  constantly  under 
arms,  with  fixed  bayonets ;  and  no  fire, 
on  any  account,  allowed  to  be  lighted  in 
front  of  them.  In  cleaning  the  guns,  the 
soldiers  were  strictly  ordered  to  draw  the 
charges,  and  not  fire  them  off,  lest  the 
enemy  should  be  within  hearing,  and  thus 
be  made  aware  of  the  approach  of  the 
troops.  The  cartridges  were  carefully 
examined,  and,  when  injured  by  the  wet, 
exchanged  for  fresh  ones.  Although 
it  was  the  30th  of  June  when  the  line 
had  crossed  the  Youghioney — the  men 
wading  through  a  depth  of  three  feet, 
and  across  a  breadth  of  water  of  two  hun 
dred  yards — it  was  not  before  the  4th  of 
July,  so  slow  was  the  progress,  the  march 
frequently  not  exceeding  two  miles  a  day, 
10 


July  6. 


that  they  came  up  to  "  Thickety  Run/' 
where  they  encamped.  The  country  now 
became  less  mountainous  and  rocky ;  and 
the  white-oak  woods  less  dense,  and  not 
offering  so  good  a  cover  for  a  skulking 
enemy. 

A  couple  of  Indians,  who  had  been  sent 
out  toward  Fort  Du  Quesne,  now 
returned,  bringing  the  scalp  of  a 
French  officer,  whom  they  had  fallen  in 
with-while  he  was  out  shooting,  and  the 
intelligence  that  there  were  few  men  or 
tracks  about,  and  no  additional  works  at 
the  fort.  Gist,  the  general's  provincial 
guide,  brought  back  a  very  similar  re 
port,  with  the  additional  and  most  impor 
tant  information,  however,  that  he  had 
observed  some  smoke  in  a  valley  between 
the  English  encampment  and  Fort  Du 
Quesne.  Gist  had  had  a  narrow  escape ; 
for  while  attempting  at  night  to  get  closer 
to  the  fort,  he  had  been  observed  by  a 
couple  of  Indians,  who  pursued  and  came 
very  near  catching  him. 

While  encamped  at  Thickety  Run,  the 
captain  with  his  detachment  of  one  hun 
dred  men,  who  had  been  sent  to  Dunbar's 
camp  at  Little  Meadows  for  provisions, 
came  in  with  a  very  welcome  supply. 
The  delay  incurred  in  waiting  for  this 
seemed  absolutely  necessary,  but,  as  the 
sequel  will  prove,  was  disastrous  to  Brad- 
dock.  With  the  party,  however,  came 
Washington,  who  had  so  far  recovered  as 
to  join  the  troop  on  its  way  to  the  gen 
eral's  camp.  He  was  warmly  welcomed 
on  his  arrival  by  Braddock  and  his  fellow- 
aids-de-camp,  Morris  and  Orme,  who  had 
kept  him  during  his  absence  well  in 
formed,  by  frequent  letters,  of  every  de- 


74 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PART    1. 


tail  of  the  march.  He  came  in  the  very 
nick  of  time,  for  the  army  was  only  dis 
tant  fifteen  miles  from  Fort  Du  Quesne, 
and  might  expect  hot  work  at  the  earli 
est  moment.  The  next  day  after  Wash 
ington's  arrival  had  been,  in  fact,  appoint 
ed  as  the  day  of  attack. 

The  place  where  Braddock  had  now 
halted  was  styled  "  Monakatuca  Camp," 
from  an  unhappy  accident  that  occurred 
in  its  neighborhood.  A  few  stragglers 
in  the  rear  of  the  march  had  been  at 
tacked  by  hostile  Indians,  and  ruthlessly 
scalped.  A  company  of  grenadiers  hav 
ing  been  ordered  out  to  look  after  these 
savages,  met  with  a  party  of  Indians  be 
longing  to  the  English  line,  and,  mista 
king  them  for  the  enemy,  fired  upon 
them — notwithstanding  the  countersign 
agreed  upon,  raising  a  bough  and  ground 
ing  amis,  was  made — and  killed  the  son 
of  the  chief  Monakatuca.  When  his  body 
was  brought  to  the  camp  by  the  wailing 
Indians,  the  general  did  everything  in  his 
power  to  console  the  father  and  the  rest. 
The  usual  presents  were  bestowed,  a  mil 
itary  funeral  with  all  its  solemnities  was 
ordered,  the  officers  attended,  and  a  vol 
ley  was  fired  over  the  forest-grave  where 
the  young  chief  was  laid.  This  marked 
respect  to  their  dead  seemed  to  have 
greatly  won  for  Braddock  the  attachment 
of  the  few  Indian  followers  left  to  him. 

On  taking  up  his  march,  Brad- 
clock  strove,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  dangerous  pass  called  "The  Narrows," 
to  cross  the  narrow  stream  known  as  Tur 
tle  creek.  He  had  not,  however,  pro 
ceeded  far,  when  he  reached  a  precipice 
that  it  was  impossible  to  descend.  Sir 


July  8, 


John  St.  Clair  was  therefore  ordered  to 
take  a  captain  and  a  hundred  men,  some 
light-horse,  and  Indian  guides,  and  recon 
noitre  thoroughly  the  country  round 
about.  The  main  body  having  in  the 
meantime  encamped  for  the  night,  the 
reconnoitring  party  returned  with  the 
report  that  another  route,  by  fording  the 
Monongahela,  had  been  discovered,  by 
which  both  the  precipice  and  the  narrows 
might  be  avoided. 

It  was  determined,  therefore,  to  pursue 
the  Monongahela  route,  by  which  the  ar 
my  would  be  obliged  to  cross  that  river 
twice  in  order  to  reach  Fort  Du  Quesne. 
The  road  through  the  Narrows  was  the 
more  direct  one  ;  but,  as  it  was  but  a  nar 
row  pass  of  two  miles  in  length,  with  a 
river  on  the  left  and  a  very  high  mount 
ain  on  the  right,  and  in  such  a  rough  con 
dition  that  it  would  require  much  time 
and  labor  to  make  it  passable  for  car 
riages,  it  seemed  right  to  abandon  it 

The  next  morning,  therefore, 
Braddock, who  had  been  encamp 
ed  the  previous  night  within  two  miles 
of  the  Monongahela,  made  his  arrange 
ments  for  passing  his  forces  across  the 
two  fords,  one  of  which  would  take  them 
to  the  opposite  bank,  and  the  other  bring 
them  back  to  the  side  whence  they  start 
ed,  but  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
of  the  fort.  Accordingly,  at  daybreak, 
LieutenantrColonel  Gage  was  ordered  to 
march  with  two  companies  of  grenadiers, 
one  hundred  and  sixty  rank  and  file  of 
the  forty-fourth  and  forty-eight,  Captain 
Gates's  independent  company  of  New 
Yorkers,  some  four  hundred  men  in  all, 
two  six-pounders,  and  proper  guides.  His 


July  9, 


COLONIAL.] 


CROSSING  THE  MONONGAHELA. 


75 


instructions  were,  to  pass  the  two  fords 
of  the  Monongahela,  and  on  crossing  the 
second  to  post  himself  so  as  to  secure  the 
passage  of  the  river.  Washington  is  said 
to  have  ventured  to  propose  that  the  ran 
gers,  of  Virginia,  accustomed  to  the  wild 
country  and  Indian  warfare,  should  lead 
the  advance ;  but  that  Braddock  peremp 
torily  and  angrily  refused  to  listen  to  any 
such  proposition,  and,  to  show  his  supe 
rior  confidence  in  the  regulars  and  his 
contempt  for  the  provincials,  ordered  the 
Virginians  to  the  rear.  Gage  advanced 
and  crossed  the  fords,  as  had  been  or 
dered,  meeting  with  no  opposition  but  a 
show  of  hostility  from  some  thirty  Indi 
ans,  who,  however,  took  to  their  heels  at 
once  and  disappeared. 

The  general  now  moved  his  main  body, 
and  it  marched  across  the  two  fords  in 
admirable  order.  The  troops  were  in  full 
uniform,  their  colors  were  flying  gayly, 
the  drums  were  beating,  and  the  fifes 
playing  "  The  Grenadiers'  March."  The 
provincials  were  struck  with  admiration 
at  the  gallant  martial  display,  and  the 
whole  line  thrilled  with  confident  hope 
of  a  speedy  and  glorious  termination  to 
their  long  march.  Both  passes  having 
been  got  over  in  such  gallant  array,  with 
out  any  disorder  or  interference,  they 
began  to  think  that  the  enemy  would 
not  even  venture  to  make  an  attack,  "  as 
they  might  have  done  with  so  many  ad 
vantages  a  little  time  before." 

"  Washington,"  says  Irving,  "  with  his 
keen  and  youthful  relish  for  military  af 
fairs,  was  delighted  with  the  perfect  or 
der  and  equipment  of  the  troops,  so  dif 
ferent  from  the  rough  bush-fighters  to 


which  he  had  been  accustomed.  Roused 
to  new  life,  he  forgot  his  recent  ailments, 
and  broke  forth  in  expressions  of  enjoy 
ment  and  admiration,  as  he  rode  in  com 
pany  with  his  fellow  aids-de-camp,  Orme 
and  Morris.  Often  in  after-life  he  used 
to  speak  of  the  effect  upon  him  of  the 
first  sight  of  a  well-disciplined  European 
army,  marching  in  high  confidence  and 
bright  array,  on  the  eve  of  a  battle." 

From  early  morning,  the  advance  par 
ty  under  Gage  having  moved  before  day 
break,  until  the  afternoon,  it  being  near 
ly  two  o'clock  when  the  rear-guard  passed 
the  second  ford,  Braddock  had  been  en 
gaged  in  getting  his  forces  again  in  the 
line  of  march  toward  the  fort.  As  soon 
as  all  were  over,  there  was  a  general  halt, 
and  then  the  army  fell  into  marching  or 
der.  First  went  an  engineer,  three  guides, 
and  six  light-horsemen,  to  lead  the  way, 
followed  closely  by  the  grenadiers,  and 
flanking-parties  distributed  along  the  edge 
of  the  wood  which  bounded  the  march. 
Next  came  the  working-force,  under  Sir 
John  St.  Clair.  Then  marched  the  main 
body  with  Braddock  himself,  while  the  un 
appreciated  Virginians  sullenly  brought 
up  the  rear. 

The  banks  of  the  river  along  which 
the  army  was  now  formed  rose  gradually 
from  the  water  in  natural  terraces,  gen 
tly  sloping  from  one  to  the  other,  until 
suddenly  bounded  by  the  steep,  rocky  , 
wall  of  the  mountain-range.  The  ground 
upon  which  they  halted,  immediately  01 
the  border  of  the  Monongahela,  where  it 
was  crossed  by  the  second  ford,  was  for 
a  fourth  of  a  mile  almost  level,  with  an 
open,  park-like  growth  of  hickory-trees 


74 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


tail  of  the  march.  He  came  in  the  very 
nick  of  time,  for  the  army  was  only  dis 
tant  fifteen  miles  from  Fort  Du  Quesne, 
and  might  expect  hot  work  at  the  earli 
est  moment.  The  next  day  after  Wash 
ington's  arrival  had  been,  in  fact,  appoint 
ed  as  the  day  of  attack. 

The  place  where  Braddock  had  now 
halted  was  styled  "  Monakatuca  Camp," 
from  an  unhappy  accident  that  occurred 
in  its  neighborhood.  A  few  stragglers 
in  the  rear  of  the  march  had  been  at 
tacked  by  hostile  Indians,  and  ruthlessly 
scalped.  A  company  of  grenadiers  hav 
ing  been  ordered  out  to  look  after  these 
savages,  met  with  a  party  of  Indians  be 
longing  to  the  English  line,  and,  mista 
king  them  for  the  enemy,  fired  upon 
them — notwithstanding  the  countersign 
agreed  upon,  raising  a  bough  and  ground 
ing  arms,  was  made — and  killed  the  son 
of  the  chief  Monakatuca.  When  his  body 
was  brought  to  the  camp  by  the  wailing 
Indians,  the  general  did  everything  in  his 
power  to  console  the  father  and  the  rest. 
The  usual  presents  were  bestowed,  a  mil 
itary  funeral  with  all  its  solemnities  was 
ordered,  the  officers  attended,  and  a  vol 
ley  was  fired  over  the  forestrgrave  where 
the  young  chief  was  laid.  This  marked 
respect  to  their  dead  seemed  to  have 
greatly  won  for  Braddock  the  attachment 
of  the  few  Indian  followers  left  to  him. 

On  taking  up  his  march,  Brad- 
dock  strove,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  dangerous  pass  called  "The  Narrows," 
to  cross  the  narrow  stream  known  as  Tur 
tle  creek.  He  had  not,  however,  pro 
ceeded  far,  when  he  reached  a  precipice 
that  it  was  impossible  to  descend.  Sir 


July  8, 


John  St.  Glair  was  therefore  ordered  to 
take  a  captain  and  a  hundred  men,  some 
light-horse,  and  Indian  guides,  and  recon 
noitre  thoroughly  the  country  round 
about.  The  main  body  having  in  the 
meantime  encamped  for  the  night,  the 
reconnoitring  party  returned  with  the 
report  that  another  route,  by  fording  the 
Monongahela,  had  been  discovered,  by 
which  both  the  precipice  and  the  narrows 
might  be  avoided. 

It  was  determined,  therefore,  to  pursue 
the  Monongahela  route,  by  which  the  ar 
my  would  be  obliged  to  cross  that  river 
twice  in  order  to  reach  Fort  Du  Quesne. 
The  road  through  the  Narrows  was  the 
more  direct  one  ;  but,  as  it  was  but  a  nar 
row  pass  of  two  miles  in  length,  with  a 
river  on  the  left  and  a  very  high  mount 
ain  on  the  right,  and  in  such  a  rough  con 
dition  that  it  would  require  much  time 
and  labor  to  make  it  passable  for  car 
riages,  it  seemed  right  to  abandon  it. 

The  next  morning,  therefore, 
Braddock, who  had  been  encamp 
ed  the  previous  night  within  two  miles 
of  the  Monongahela,  made  his  arrange 
ments  for  passing  his  forces  across  the 
two  fords,  one  of  which  would  take  them 
to  the  opposite  bank,  and  the  other  bring 
them  back  to  the  side  whence  they  start 
ed,  but  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
of  the  fort.  Accordingly,  at  daybreak, 
LieutenantrColonel  Gage  was  ordered  to 
march  with  two  companies  of  grenadiers, 
one  hundred  and  sixty  rank  and  file  of 
the  forty-fourth  and  forty-eight,  Captain 
Gates's  independent  company  of  New 
Yorkers,  some  four  hundred  men  in  all, 
two  six-pounders,  and  proper  guides.  His 


July  9, 


COLONIAL.] 


CROSSING  THE  MONONGAHELA. 


75 


instructions  were,  to  pass  the  two  fords 
of  the  Monongahela,  and  on  crossing  the 
second  to  post  himself  so  as  to  secure  the 
passage  of  the  river.  Washington  is  said 
to  have  ventured  to  propose  that  the  ran 
gers,  of  Virginia,  accustomed  to  the  wild 
country  and  Indian  warfare,  should  lead 
the  advance  ;  but  that  Braddock  peremp 
torily  and  angrily  refused  to  listen  to  any 
such  proposition,  and,  to  show  his  supe 
rior  confidence  in  the  regulars  and  his 
contempt  for  the  provincials,  ordered  the 
Virginians  to  the  rear.  Gage  advanced 
and  crossed  the  fords,  as  had  been  or 
dered,  meeting  with  no  opposition  but  a 
show  of  hostility  from  some  thirty  Indi 
ans,  who,  however,  took  to  their  heels  at 
once  and  disappeared. 

The  general  now  moved  his  main  body, 
and  it  marched  across  the  two  fords  in 
admirable  order.  The  troops  were  in  full 
uniform,  their  colors  were  flying  gayly, 
the  drums  were  beating,  and  the  fifes 
playing  "  The  Grenadiers'  March."  The 
provincials  were  struck  with  admiration 
at  the  gallant  martial  display,  and  the 
whole  line  thrilled  with  confident  hope 
of  a  speedy  and  glorious  termination  to 
their  long  march.  Both  passes  having 
been  got  over  in  such  gallant  array,  with 
out  any  disorder  or  interference,  they 
began  to  think  that  the  enemy  would 
not  even  venture  to  make  an  attack,  "  as 
they  might  have  done  with  so  many  ad 
vantages  a  little  time  before." 

"  Washington,"  says  Irving,  "  with  his 
keen  and  youthful  relish  for  military  af 
fairs,  was  delighted  with  the  perfect  or 
der  and  equipment  of  the  troops,  so  dif 
ferent  from  the  rough  bush-fighters  to 


which  he  had  been  accustomed.  Roused 
to  new  life,  he  forgot  his  recent  ailments, 
and  broke  forth  in  expressions  of  enjoy 
ment  and  admiration,  as  he  rode  in  com 
pany  with  his  fellow  aids-de-camp,  Orme 
and  Morris.  Often  in  after-life  he  used 
to  speak  of  the  effect  upon  him  of  the 
first  sight  of  a  well-disciplined  European 
army,  marching  in  high  confidence  and 
bright  array,  on  the  eve  of  a  battle." 

From  early  morning,  the  advance  par 
ty  under  Gage  having  moved  before  day 
break,  until  the  afternoon,  it  being  near 
ly  two  o'clock  when  the  rear-guard  passed 
the  second  ford,  Braddock  had  been  en 
gaged  in  getting  his  forces  again  in  the 
line  of  march  toward  the  fort.  As  soon 
as  all  were  over,  there  was  a  general  halt, 
and  then  the  army  fell  into  marching  or 
der.  First  went  an  engineer,  three  guides, 
and  six  light-horsemen,  to  lead  the  way, 
followed  closely  by  the  grenadiers,  and 
flanking-parties  distributed  along  the  edge 
of  the  wood  which  bounded  the  march. 
Next  came  the  working-force,  under  Sir 
John  St.  Clair.  Then  marched  the  main 
body  with  Braddock  himself,  while  the  un 
appreciated  Virginians  sullenly  brought 
up  the  rear. 

The  banks  of  the  river  along  which 
the  army  was  now  formed  rose  gradually 
from  the  water  in  natural  terraces,  gen 
tly  sloping  from  one  to  the  other,  until 
suddenly  bounded  by  the  steep,  rocky 
wall  of  the  mountain-range.  The  ground 
upon  which  they  halted,  immediately  01 
the  border  of  the  Monongahela,  where  it 
was  crossed  by  the  second  ford,  was  for 
a  fourth  of  a  mile  almost  level,  with  an 
open,  park-like  growth  of  hickory-trees 


78 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


cover  of  the  trees,  and  thus  wage  an 
equal  battle  with  the  enemy.  Braddock 
was  so  maddened  by  the  ill  conduct  of 
his  men,  or  so  wedded  to  system,  that  he 
would  not  listen  to  such  a  proposal,  and 
insisted  upon  his  soldiers  keeping  the 
ranks.  Moreover,  whenever  he  found  a 
poor  fellow  covering  himself  behind  a 
tree,  he  would  ride  up  to  him,  and,  stri 
king  him  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  and 
fiercely  calling  him  a  coward,  drive  him 
back  to  the  open  ground.  A  company 
of  Virginians,  however,  familiar  with  the 
Indian  warfare,  succeeded  in  gaining  the 
cover  of  a  large  trunk  of  a  felled  tree,  and 
thence  fired  upon  the  enemy  with  excel 
lent  effect.  The  British  soldiers,  unable 
in  their  fright  and  confusion  to  distin 
guish  friend  from  foe,  no  sooner  saw  the 
flashes  and  smoke  of  the  provincials'  fire 
locks,  which  were  doing  such  good  ser 
vice,  than  they  turned  their  guns  upon 
them,  and  thus  killed  fifty  out  of  the 
whole  Virginian  company  of  eighty,  and 
forced  the  small  remnant  to  fly  for  their 
lives ! 

Everything  had  been  done  that  cour 
age  could  do  by  the  officers,  hardly  one 
of  whom  was  now  able  to  keep  the  field. 
Sir  Peter  Halket  had  been  struck  down 
soon  after  arriving  upon  the  ground ; 
and  his  son,  a  young  subaltern,  was  shot 
by  his  side,  and  fell  dead  across  his  fa 
ther's  body.  Not  a  single  one  of  the  gen 
eral's  aids,  with  the  exception  of  Wash 


ington,  escaped ;  all  being  either  wound 
ed  or  killed.  Shirley,  Braddock's  secreta 
ry,  was  shot  dead  by  a  musketrball,  which 
struck  him  in  the  head.  Orme  and  Mor 
ris,  the  two  aids-de-camp,  were  severely 
wounded,  and  so  early  in  the  engage 
ment,  that  the  duty  of  carrying  the  or 
ders  of  the  general  devolved  solely  upon 
Washington,  whose  escape  seemed  mar 
vellous.  He  was  everywhere,  and  ex 
posed  to  the  hottest  fire  throughout  the 
action.  He  had  two  horses  shot  under 
him,  and  four  bullets  passed  through  his 
coat ;  and  yet  he  did  not  receive  a  single 
wound. 

Amid  the  terrible  massacre  which  was 
going  on  about  him,  Braddock  himself 
remained  in  the  centre  of  the  field,  brave 
ly  struggling  for  a  long  time  against  fate. 
At  last,  when  almost  all  his  officers  had 
fallen — when  nearly  two  thirds  of  the 
army  had  been  slain,  and  the  rest  so 
panic-stricken  as  to  be  hardly  capable  of 
keeping  their  ranks,  in  formal  obedience 
to  his  command — the  general  saw  that 
all  was  lost,  and  gave  the  order  to  re 
treat.  The  retreat  became  at  once  a  pre 
cipitate  flight.  "  They  ran  as  sheep  pur 
sued  by  dogs,  and  it  was  impossible  to 
rally  them." 

Braddock  had  hardly  given  the  order, 
when  he  was  struck  with  a  musket-ball, 
which  passed  through  his  right  arm  into 
his  lungs.  He  fell  immediately  from  his 
horse  to  the  ground. 


(0) 


COLONIAL.] 


THE  FLIGHT. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Braddock  prostrate  on  the  Field. — The  Affectionate  Devotion  of  the  Surviving  Officers. — The  Panic  of  the  Soldiers. — 
Men  bribed  to  bear  away  the  Fallen  General. — Braddock's  Desponding  Courage. — Demands  his  Pistols,  and  threatens 
Suicide. — The  Coolness  of  Washington  in  Covering  the  Retreat  across  the  Monongahela. — Braddock  still  mindful  of 
Duty. — Attempts  to  rally  the  Fugitives. — His  Failure. — Washington  sent  in  Advance  to  summon  Dunbar  to  the  Res 
cue. — Braddock  continues  the  Retreat,  lying  on  a  Litter. — Kindness  of  the  Dying  General. — Arrival  at  Dunbar's 
Camp. — Its  Disorder. — Last  Words,  Death,  and  Burial,  of  Braddock. — A  Retrospect. — The  French  at  Fort  Du 
Qucsne. — The  Works  nt  the  Fort. — The  Despair  of  Contrecreur. — The  Daring  Proposition  of  a  Subaltern. — DC  Beau- 
jeu  and  his  Indian  Allies. — Do  Beaujcu's  Effective  Appeal. — The  Cruelty  of  the  Conquerors. — A  Scene  of  Ferocious 
Barbarity. — Dunbar's  Fright  and  Pell-mell  Flight. — What  he  did  do,  and  what  he  might  have  done. — Preparations  in 
Philadelphia  for  the  Celebration  of  the  Expected  Victory  of  Braddock. — Franklin's  Wet  Blanket. — News  of  the  Defeat, 
and  its  Effect  upon  the  Philadelphians. — Shirley  and  Fort  Niagara. 


IN   the    general,   helter-skelter 

1 7  'i  '*5 

flight  which  succeeded  the  order 

to  retreat,  the  wounded  Braddock  lay 
upon  the  ground,  abandoned  by  all  but 
those  few  of  his  officers  who  were  still 
alive  and  yet  able,  in  spite  of  their 
wounds,  to  bestow  upon  him  their  affec 
tionate  and  faithful  services.  His  aid-de 
camp  Orme,  though  disabled,  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  side  of  his  fallen  general, 
and  called  upon  the  flying  soldiers  to 
come  to  his  aid  and  bear  him  from  the 
field.  He  ordered;  he  urged;  he  begged; 
he  finally  strove  to  bribe,  with  a  purse 
of  gold,  the  panic-stricken  fugitives,  but 
in  vain :  they  continued  their  flight — 
throwing  away  their  arms  and  ammuni 
tion,  and  even  their  clothes,  to  escape 
the  faster  from  the  deadly  aim  and  the 
ruthless  tomahawk  of  their  savage  ene 
my. 

Orme  was  almost  in  despair  for  the 
safety  of  his  general,  when  Captain  Stew 
art,  the  commander  of  the  Virginia  light- 
horse,  came  up,  and,  sharing  with  the 
young  aid-de-camp  his  kind  and  devoted 
sympathy  for  their  wounded  chief,  offered 


his  services.  They  at  last  succeeded,  by 
the  assistance  of  some  servants  attached 
to  the  army,  who  were  bribed  by  a  guin 
ea  and  a  bottle  of  rum  to  each,  in  placing 
the  helpless  Braddock  in  a  tumbril,  and 
thus  bore  him  off  the  field.  The  general, 
however,  at  first  refused  to  be  carried 
away,  declaring  that  he  wished  to  be  left 
on  the  spot  where  he  had  fallen.  He 
even  became  impatient  of  the  death 
which  was  fast  coming,  and  begged  the 
pistols  of  a  bystander,  that  he  might 
thus,  like  an  ancient  Roman,  put  an  end, 
by  suicide,  to  the  torturing  reflections  of 
a  despairing  courage. 

The  retreat  continued ;  the  British  sol 
diers  flying  in  confused  fright,  and  the 
Indians  following  after,  howling  in  fierce 
pursuit,  and  only  ceasing  their  deadly 
fire  when  they  stopped  to  scalp  some 
prostrate  fugitive.  The  retreat  was  thus 
harassed  to  the  bank  of  the  Monongahela 
river,  which,  however,  was  crossed  with 
mitigated  suffering,  thanks  to  the  cool 
ness  of  Washington,  who  succeeded  in 
rallying  a  small  force  of  men,  sufficient 
to  keep  at  bay  the  pursuing  savages, 


80 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


while  the  remnant  of  the  troops  were 
hurriedly  crossing  the  ford. 

When  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Monongahela,  al 
though  most  of  the  soldiers  still  contin 
ued  their  flight,  Braddock  succeeded  in 
bringing  to  a  halt  about  a  hundred  men. 
The  general,  though  his  life  was  ebbing 
fast,  and  though  his  pride  had  been  so 
mortally  wounded  by  the  disgrace  of  the 
day,  did  not  lose  his  sense  of  duty.  He 
still,  though  prostrate  under  the  hands 
of  the  surgeon,  gave  his  orders,  and  strove 
to  hold  the  position  where  he  was  until 
he  might  be  reinforced  by  Dunbar,  with 
the  hope  of  yet  revenging  himself  for 
the  defeat  he  had  suffered  from  the  en 
emy. 

Washington  was  sent  accordingly  to 
Dunbar,  with  orders  for  that  officer  to 
hasten  on  immediately  with  his  troops. 
Braddock  in  the  meantime  moved  his 
few  men  to  an  advantageous  spot  about 
two  hundred  yards  from  the  road.  Small 
parties  and  sentinels  were  then  posted 
about,  and  it  was  intended  to  keep  pos 
session  of  that  ground  until  the  arrival 
of  Dunbar.  All  the  men,  however,  be 
fore  they  had  been  there  an  hour,  ran 
off,  leaving  the  general  and  his  wounded 
officers,  with  none  but  a  small  remnant 
of  the  vanguard.  It  was  of  course  use 
less,  after  this  desertion,  for  Braddock  to 
remain ;  and,  trying  at  first  to  mount  a 
horse,  but  finding  himself  unable  from 
his  increasing  weakness,  he  wras  obliged 
to  be  carried  on  a  litter.  Borne  thus, 
and  accompanied  by  Orme  and  Morris, 
his  wounded  aids-de-camp,  on  litters  like 
himself,  the  general  begun  his  £ad  jour 


ney.  He  had  left  the  field  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  and  the  shades  of  even 
ing  began  now  to  fall.  He  travelled 
slowly  on,  with  the  darkness  of  night 
gathering,  to  throw  an  added  gloom  upon 
his  saddened  heart. 

On  crossing  the  second  ford  of  the 
Monongahela,  Braddock  was  joined  by 
LieutenantrColonel  Gage,  who  had  suc 
ceeded  in  rallying  some  eighty  men,  who 
now  offered  themselves  as  a  timely  escort 
to  the  dying  general  and  his  wounded 
officers.  Thus  reinforced,  they  marched 
all  that  night  and  the  next  day  until  ten 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  they  reached 
Gist's  Plantation.  Here  they  found  a 
timely  supply  of  wagons,  provisions,  and 
hospital-stores,  which  had  been  brought 
on  from  Dimbar's  camp  by  Washington, 
who,  having  fulfilled  his  commission,  was 
now  on  his  return  to  meet  the  gener 
al.  After  a  slight  halt  for  refreshment 
at  Gist's  Plantation,  they  all  proceeded 
to  Dunbar's  camp,  some  thirteen  miles 
distant.  The  first  thing  done  by  Brad- 
dock,  on  arriving  there,  was  to  send  a 
sergeant's  party  back  with  provisions,  to 
be  left  on  the  road  from  the  Mononga 
hela,  for  any  stragglers  who  might  have 
lost  their  way  on  the  route.  It  is  pleas 
ing  to  record  this  proof  of  a  kindly  im 
pulse  on  the  part  of  a  man  who,  like 
Braddock,  was  so  often  accused  of  bru 
tality. 

At  Dunbar's  camp  all  was  disobedience 
and  confusion.  Many  of  those,  princi 
pally  the  Pennsylvania  wagoners,  who 
had  fled  from  the  fatal  field  without  ceas 
ing  a  moment  their  flight,  had  come  in 
here,  with  the  sad  tidings  of  the  defeat, 


JOLONIAL.J 

which  they  hurried  to  communicate  in 
despairing  cries,  exclaiming,  "All  is  lost ! 
Braddock  is  killed !  Wounded  officers 
have  been  borne  off  from  the  field  in 
bloody  sheets !  The  troops  are  all  cut 
to  pieces !"  Dunbar's  camp  itself  became 
infected  with  the  panic,  and  many  of  his 
men  had  run  away,  while  those  who  were 
left  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  disci 
pline.  The  presence  of  the  general  se 
cured  a  little  more  order  in  the  camp, 
and  he  had  still  hoped  so  far  to  reassure 
his  troops  as  to  be  able  to  march  them 
again  toward  Fort  Du  Quesne.  Finding, 
however,  Dunbar  and  his  men  in  a  con 
dition  of  hopeless  disaffection  and  disor 
der  from  fright,  the  dying  Braddock  re 
solved  to  give  up  all  hope  of  redeeming 
the  disgrace  of  the  fatal  defeat,  and  sadly 
but  firmly  from  his  camp-bed,  where  he 
lay  prostrate,  ordered  the  troops  to  retire 
to  the  seaboard.  The  military  stores  were 
now  destroyed,  much  of  the  artillery  was 
buried,  the  wagons  burned,  the  powder- 
casks  stove  in,  and  the  powder  emptied 
into  a  spring  of  water.  Nothing  was  pre 
served  but  what  was  actually  wranted  for 
the  march. 

Braddock  lingered  on,  though  growing 
weaker  and  weaker.  His  heart  seemed 
to  give  \vay  before  his  life-blood  ceased 
to  run;  and  he  was  heard  to  utter,  in 
accents  of  despair,  "Who  would  have 
thought  it !"  He,  however,  occasionally 
rallied  in  spirits,  and  exclaimed,  with  a 
gleam  of  hope,  "  We  shall  better  know 
ho\v  to  deal  with  them  another  time." 


DEATH  OF  BRADDOCK. 


81 


July  13, 


The  march  having  been  be 
gun,   the    troops    succeeded   in 
reaching  Great  Meadows  in  tolerable  or- 


der,  the  general  and  his  wounded  officers 
having  been  conveyed  to  that  place  on 
litters  borne  by  horses.  A  halt  had  hard 
ly  been  ordered,  and  the  prostrate  Brad- 
dock  borne  to  his  tent,  when  the  brave- 
but  unfortunate  general  died.  He,  how 
ever,  retained  his  self-possession  to  the 
last,  and  availed  himself  of  the  few  re 
maining  moments  of  his  life  to  thank 
those  who  were  about  him,  and  who  had 
been  devotedly  kind  and  faithful  to  him 
during  the  struggle  on  the  battle-field, 
as  wrell  as  in  the  agony  of  death.  Wash 
ington  he  particularly  signalled  out,  ask 
ing  his  forgiveness  for  his  irritable  tem 
per  toward  him,  and,  to  prove  his  grati 
tude  for  the  young  Virginian's  fidelity 
and  friendship,  left  him  his  favorite  horse 
and  his  negro-servant  Bishop. 

The  last  sad  duty  to  the  remains  of 
the  general  wras  paid,  in  consequence  of 
the  chaplain  being  wounded,  by  Wash 
ington,  who  read  the  funeral-service  over 
the  grave.  The  burial  was  conducted 
with  the  greatest  reverence,  although  the 
usual  drum-beat  and  the  volley  of  guns 
were  omitted,  for  fear  that  the  watchful 
ness  of  some  lurking  savages  in  the  neigh 
borhood  might  be  aroused,  and  that  they 
might  thus  seek  out  the  spot  and  dese 
crate  the  last  resting-place  of  the  unfor 
tunate  Braddock.  "  Whatever  may  have 
been  his  faults  and  errors,"  says  Irving, 
"he  in  a  manner  expiated  them  by  the 
hardest  lot  that  can  befall  a  brave  sol 
dier,  ambitious  of  renown — an  unlion- 
ored  grave  in  a  strange  land  ;  a  memory 
clouded  by  misfortune ;  and  a  name  for 
ever  coupled  with  defeat." 

Let  us  now  turn  back,  in  regard  to 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


time,  and  observe  the  condition  and  con 
duct  of  the  enemy  when  anticipating  the 
approach  of  the  English  on  that  expedi 
tion  against  Fort  Du  Quesne  which  re 
sulted  in  the  disastrous  defeat  we  have 
just  recorded. 

The  French  fort,  which  was  situated  on 
the  triangular  piece  of  land  at  the  junc 
tion  of  the  Monongahela  with  the  Alle- 
ghany,  had  been  tolerably  well  construct 
ed,  and  Avas,  with  a  strong  garrison,  able 
to  endure  a  long  and  vigorous  siege.  It 
was  well  protected  on  one  side,  and  nat- 
urally,  by  the  river  Monongahela,  on  the 
eastern  bank  of  which  it  stood ;  and  its 
more  exposed  points,  facing  the  land, 
were  fortified  with  bastions  built  up  of 
great  logs  to  the  height  of  a  dozen  feet, 
and  filled  in  with  firmly-packed  earth 
and  sod.  These  bastions  were  joined  by 
a  strong  stockade  of  piles  driven  deep 
into  the  ground,  and  fenced  with  thick, 
transverse  poles,  between  Avhich  inter 
stices  were  left  for  loopholes  for  cannon 
and  muskets.  A  ditch,  with  a  stockade 
to  support  it,  surrounded  the  whole  on 
the  land-side.  The  inner  part  of  the  fort, 
containing  the  magazines  and  the  officers' 
and  men's  quarters,  was  made  of  heavy 
logs ;  and  its  walls  were  so  deeply  laid 
down  in  the  ground,  that  the  earth  al 
most  reached  the  top.  The  roof,  which 
was  the  only  part  exposed,  was  thickly 
covered  with  clay.  The  whole  fortifica 
tion  was  deemed  so  strong  as  to  be  only 
pregnable  to  hot  shot  or  bombs  thrown 
upon  it  from  the  neighboring  hills ;  and 
here  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  after  his  prelimi 
nary  survey,  had  proposed  to  Braddock 
to  mount  his  artillery,  and  thence  direct 


his  attack — a  plan  which,  it  is  supposed, 
had  obtained  the  concurrence  of  the  gen 
eral. 

During  the  spring  of  1755,  at  the  time 
when  Braddock's  forces  were  originally 
intended  to  have  reached  Fort  Du  Quesne, 
Contrecceur,  who  was  in  command,  had 
only  two  hundred  men,  including  French 
and  Indians,  to  garrison  the  place.  Re 
inforcements  were  urgently  solicited  from 
Canada;  and, although  there  were  rumors 
which  had  reached  the  English  camp  that 
a  large  force  was  on  its  march  to  strength 
en  the  garrison,  none  had  arrived  when 
Braddock  approached. 

As  the  English  drew  near,  and  no  word 
came  of  aid  from  Canada,  Contrecceur  so 
far  despaired  of  defending  himself,  that 
he  had  almost  made  up  his  mind  to  sur 
render  without  striking  a  blow.  He  had, 
in  fact,  prepared  the  solitary  gun,  tr 
inarch  out  with,  on  his  being  granted  — 
which  was  evidently  intended  to  be  the 
extent  of  his  demand — the  honors  of  wrar 
on  capitulation.  Contrecoeur  had  been 
kept  well  informed  of  all  the  particulars 
of  Braddock's  march  by  means  of  the  In 
dians  in  the  French  interest,  who  were 
constantly  skulking  about  the  British 
line ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  8th  of  July, 
when  an  Indian  scout  brought  in  word 
that  the  army  was  about  to  ford  the  Mo 
nongahela,  that  there  was  entertained  the 
least  hope  of  successful  opposition.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  De  Beaujeu,  a  young 
and  spirited  French  officer,  proposed  to 
prepare  an  ambuscade, by  which  he  might 
surprise  the  English  forces,  and  attempt 
to  stop  their  progress  as  they  recrossed 
the  second  ford  of  the  Monongahela. 


COLONIAL.] 


FRENCH  BARBARITY. 


83 


The  old  French  commander  shrugged 
his  shoulders  doubtingly  as  he  listened 
to  his  youthful  subaltern's  hazardous  pro 
posal.  He  was,  however,  so  far  won  over 
by  the  urgent  enthusiasm  of  the  young 
officer,  that  he  consented,  provided  he 
could  get  volunteers  for  his  rash  enter 
prise.  De  Beaujeu  took  his  commander 
at  his  word,  and  submitted  the  plan  to 
the  garrison.  The  whole,  to  a  man,  im 
mediately  declared  themselves  ready  to 
join  him. 

The  Indians,  however,  were  more  back 
ward,  and  said  to  young  Beaujeu,  taunt 
ingly,  after  he  had  laid  before  them  his 
plans :  "  We  are  only  eight  hundred  men, 
and  you  ask  us  to  attack  four  thousand 
English !"  They  then  told  him  plainly 
that  what  he  had  said  showed  he  had  no 
Reuse.  They  promised,  however,  to  sleep 
over  the  proposition  for  a  night,  and  give 
in  their  final  answer  next  morning.  Ac 
cordingly,  on  the  succeeding  day,  at  an 
early  hour,  De  Beaujeu  started  out  with 
a  handful  of  French,  and,  arousing  the 
Indians,  asked  them  whether  they  were 
ready  to  go.  They  answered  him  with 
a  very  decided  negative.  Beaujeu,  who 
was  prompt  in  an  emergency,  and  ready- 
witted,  then  exclaimed :  "  I  shall  go  out 
myself  against  the  enemy;  I'm  sure  of 
victory !  Will  you  allow  your  father  to 
go  out  alone  ?"  They  then,  with  one  ac 
cord,  answered  the  implied  rebuke  with 
a  burst  of  enthusiastic  devotion  to  their 
leader,  and  expressed  their  willingness  to 
follow  him.  We  know  the  result,  so  fa 
tal  to  Braddock  and  the  English,  and  so 
successful  to  the  French,though  it  brought 
death  to  the  gallant  De  Beaujeu.  Out  of 


the  fourteen  hundred  and  sixty  English, 
four  hundred  and  fifty-six  were  killed, 
and  four  hundred  and  twenty-one  wound 
ed  ;  giving  a  total  of  eight  hundred  an 
seventy-seven,  of  whom  sixty-three  were 
officers.  The  French  only  had  three  of 
ficers  killed  and  four  wounded,  and  lost 
besides  some  score  of  Indians  and  sol 
diers.  Everything  in  the  way  of  baggage 
had  been  lost  by  the  English,  even  to 
their  personal  clothing.  Artillery,  cattle, 
provisions,military  treasure  amounting  to 
more  than  a  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
and  all  the  private  letters  and  despatches 
contained  in  Braddock's  chest,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  French. 

The  conquerors  shamed  the  chivalry 
of  their  country,  and  their  own  fame,  by 
permitting  the  Indians  to  glut  their  sav 
age  instincts,  in  the  torture  of  the  Eng 
lish  prisoners.  Contrecoeur  and  his  French 
garrison  are  described  as  having  looked 
from  the  bastions  of  the  fort,  if  not  un 
moved,  still  without  interference,  upon  a 
terrific  scene,  which  an  observer  has  de 
scribed  as  if  K  Hell  had  given  a  holiday, 
and  turned  loose  its  inhabitants  upon  the 
upper  world  !"  Here  is  the  spectacle, 
with  all  its  details  of  horror  elaborately 
wrought  up  by  the  fervid  pen  of  an  an 
nalist:* — 

"An  hour  before  sunset,  the  French 
and  Indians,  returning  to  the  fort,  halted 
within  a  mile's  distance,  and  announced 
their  success  by  a  joyful  uproar,  discharg 
ing  all  their  pieces,  and  giving  the  scalp 
halloo.  Instantly  the  great  guns  respond 
ed,  and  the  hills  around  re-echoed  to  their 

*  The  History  of  an  Expedition  against  FortDu  Quesne 
&c.,  by  Winthrop  Sargent,  M.  A.     Philadelphia,  1855. 


84 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    1. 


roar.  Pushing  hastily  on,  the  majority  of 
the  savages  soon  appeared,  blood-stained 
and  laden  with  scalps,  and  uncouthly  ar 
rayed  in  the  spoils  of  the  army.  Tall 
grenadiers'  caps  surmounted  their  paint 
ed  faces,  and  the  regimental  colors  trailed 
disgracefully  at  their  heels.  With  less 
disordered  pace  the  French  succeeded,  es 
corting  a  long  train  of  pack-horses  borne 
down  with  plunder.  Last  of  all,  and 
while  the  parting  light  of  day  lingered 
on  the  beautiful  bosom  of  the  Ohio,  ap 
peared  a  small  party  who  had  dallied  be 
hind  to  make  the  needful  preparations 
for  the  crowning  scene  of  horror.  Before 
them,  stripped  perfectly  naked,  their  faces 
blackened  and  their  hands  bound  behind 
their  backs,  with  reluctant  steps  were 
driven  twelve  British  regulars,  on  whom 
God's  sun  had  shone  for  the  last  time. 

u  Delirious  with  excitement,  their  bar 
barous  conquerors  could  hardly  wait  for 
the  tardy  night.,  to  consummate  their  un 
hallowed  joy.  A  stake  was  at  once  sunk 
on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Alleghany, 
whither  the  crew  repaired ;  the  prisoners 
lost  in  dumb  sorrow  at  the  surprising  fate 
which  they  now  began  to  comprehend. 
Here,  one  by  one,  they  were  given  to 
the  most  cruel  and  lingering  of  deaths. 
Bound  to  the  post  under  the  eyes  of  their 
remaining  comrades  and  of  the  French 
garrison,  who  crowTded  the  ramparts  to 
behold  the  scene,  they  were  slowly  roast- 
ed  alive !  Coals  from  an  adjacent  fire 
were  first  applied  to  various  parts  of  the 
victim's  person.  Sharp  splinters  of  light, 
dry  pine-wood  were  thrust  into  his  flesh, 
and  ignited,  to  consume  and  crackle  be 
neath  the  skin,  causing  the  most  exquis 


ite  tortures.  His  trunk  was  seared  with 
red-hot  gun-barrels ;  blazing  brands  wrere 
thrust  into  his  mouth  and  nostrils ;  boil 
ing  whiskey  was  poured  in  flames  down 
his  throat;  and  deep  gashes  made  in  his 
body,  to  receive  burning  coals.  His  eye 
balls  were  gradually  consumed  by  the 
thrusts  of  pointed  sticks  or  the  applica 
tion  of  a  heated  ramrod  ;  and  the  warrior 
was  prized  the  most  highly  who  could 
farthest  prolong  sensibility  in  his  prey, 
and  extract  a  renewed  cry  of  anguish 
from  the  wretch  who  had  almost  ceased 
to  suffer — 'his  weary  soul  hanging  upon 
his  trembling  lips — willing  to  take  its 
leave,  but  not  suffered  to  depart !'  The 
last  expedient  was  generally  to  scalp  the 
poor  creature,  and  on  his  bare,  palpita 
ting  brain,  flash  gunpowder  or  throw  a 
handful  of  live  embers  ! . . . .  The  horrors 
of  this  night  endured  till  dawn." 

After  Braddock's  death,  Colonel  Dun- 
bar,  who  had  succeeded  to  the  chief  com 
mand,  seemed  to  have  lost  all  self-posses 
sion,  and,  without  regard  to  duty  or  to 
the  consequences  of  its  neglect,  began 
and  continued  one  of  the  most  disgrace 
ful  retreats  on  record.  If  he  had  made 
a  stand  upon  the  frontier,  and  reassured 
his  troops,  it  would  not  have  been  diffi 
cult,  with  reinforcements  from  the  prov 
inces,  to  have  again  marched  upon  Fort 
Du  Quesne  ;  and  probably,  with  the  ben 
efit  of  the  experience  of  Braddock's  dis 
astrous  faults,  the  English  would  have 
struck  a  successful  blow,  as  the  enem}^ 
though  cheered  by  their  unexpected  vic 
tory,  were  awaiting  in  timid  anxiety  an 
other  attack,  against  which  they  were  ill 
prepared.  Dunbar  himself,  however,  was 


COLONIAL.] 


THE  EFFECT  OF  BRADDOCK'S  DISASTER. 


panic-stricken,  and  had  no  control  over 
his  men.  He  was  despised  by  his  own 
soldiers  for  his  cowardice ;  and,  as  they 
neither  feared  nor  respected,  they  would 
not  obey  him.  The  consequences  showed 
themselves  in  the  retreat,  in  which  the 
soldiers,  loosened  from  all  control,  wan 
dered  at  their  will  over  the  country,  and 
devastated  it  with  a  wantonness  which 
left  its  inhabitants  nothing  to  dread  from 
an  enemy. 

The  provinces  were  not  prepared  to 
hear  of  Braddock's  defeat.  They  were, 
in  fact,  so  confident  of  victory,  that  in 
Philadelphia  they  had  begun  to  prepare 
for  its  celebration.  The  preliminary  sub 
scription  had  even  begun  to  circulate, 
when  the  shrewd  Franklin  threw  the  wet 
blanket  of  his  prudence  upon  the  scheme, 
and  effectually  put  out  the  kindling  en 
thusiasm  of  his  fellow-citizens.  "  I  looked 
grave,"  Franklin  writes,  in  his  own  ac 
count  of  the  premature  affair,  "  and  said 
it  would,  I  thought,  be  time  enough  to 
prepare  the  rejoicing  when  we  knew  we 
should  have  occasion  to  rejoice.  They 
seemed  surprised  that  I  did  not  immedi 
ately  comply  with  their  proposal.  '  Why, 
the  devil !'  said  one  of  them, '  you  surely 
don't  suppose  that  the  fort  will  not  be 
taken?' — 'I  don't  know  that  it  will  not 
be  taken  ;  but  I  know  that  the  events  of 
war  are  subject  to  great  uncertainty.' " 

Governor  Morris,  who,  while  on  the 
frontier,  supervising  the  construction  of 
the  Pennsylvania  road,  had  learned  the 
melancholy  news,  hastened  to  Philadel 
phia  to  carry  it,  but  on  his  arrival  was 
insulted  for  venturing  to  give  out  that 
General  Braddock  was  defeated !  The 


people  began,  however,  to  suspect 
truth  when  the  frightened  fugitives  came 
in,  one  after  another,  and  told  with  trem 
bling  lips  the  story  of  the  disaster.  And 
yet  they  were  not  finally  persuaded  of 
the  fact  until  Braddock's  own  messengers 
passed  from  post  to  post,  from  tavern  to 
tavern, from  a  The  Whip"  to  the  "Indian 
Queen,"  with  that  open  letter,  which  au 
thoritatively  published  the  catastrophe. 

Dunbar  himself  finally  came  in  with 
his  fifteen  hundred  men,  and  tookmp  his 
winter-quarters  in  Philadelphia  in  mid 
summer,  where  we  hear  of  him  and  his 
gallant  officers  getting  up  a  military  ball, 
to  do  honor  to  the  beauty  of  the  Penn 
sylvania  dames. 

Smollett  has  truly  said  of  the  French 
success  and  of  the  English  retreat :  "  On 
the  whole,  this  was  perhaps  the  most  ex 
traordinary  victory  that  ever  was  ob 
tained,  and  the  farthest  flight  that  ever 
was  made." 

The  effect  of  Braddock's  unfortunate 
campaign  was  something  far  greater  than 
the  loss  of  a  battle,  with  its  waste  of  life 
and  treasure.  It  so  weakened  the  tie 
between  the  colonies  and  mother-coun 
try,  that  it  finally  gave  way  in  the  Amer 
ican  Revolution.  The  provinces  now  no 
longer  trusted  to  the  courage  and  skill 
of  British  regulars,  and  had  learned  to 
confide  in  the  strength  of  their  own 
forces,  which  had  shown  themselves  so 
much  superior  as  allies,  that  they  had  no 
reason  to  dread  the  possible  position  of 
enemies.  The  British  contempt  for  the 
provincial  militiaman  had  been  proved 
to  be  so  little  merited,  that  the  Ameri 
can,  no  longer  humbled,  became  assured 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    1 


of  his  own  power;  while  his  pride,  in- 
Hamed  by  the  humiliating  treatment  it 
had  received,  burned  to  vindicate  itself 
against  those  who  had  wantonly  offend 
ed  it. 

Shirley,  of  Massachusetts,  one  of  the 
most  energetic  and  able  of  the  provincial 
governors,  had  the  command  of  the  ex 
pedition  ordered  for  the  reduction  of  Fort 
Niagara.  His  force  consisted  principally 
of  the  two  provincial  regiments  of  New 
England  known  as  those  of  Shirley  and 
Pepperell,  both  of  whom  had  been  made 
British  colonels,  in  reward  for  their  ser 
vices  in  the  conquest  of  Louisburg.  This 
energetic  commander  had  reached  Alba 
ny,  and  was  preparing  to  move  on  to  Os- 
wego,  when  the  news  of  Braddock's  mis 
fortune  reached  him,  and  struck  a  panic 
to  the  hearts  of  his  men.  Many  of  his 
troops  deserted  him,  and  all  the  native 
boatmen  and  fur-hunters  whom  he  had 
engaged  to  man  his  batteaux  for  the  con 
veyance  of  his  force  and  its  supplies  west 
ward,  fled  away,  and  could  not  be  pre- 


Aiiff,  18, 


vailed  upon  to  return.  Shirley,  however, 
with  the  remnant  left  him,  boldly  pushed 
on,  and,  being  reinforced  by  a  detach 
ment  of  Royal  artillery  spared  him  from 
the  troops  disheartened  by  the  defeat  of 
Braddock  and  the  inglorious  retreat  of 
Dunbar,  reached  Oswe^o,  with 

'  O      7 

some  hope  of  a  successful  at 
tempt  on  Niagara.  At  Oswego,  on  the 
southeast  side  of  Lake  Ontario,  there  was 
a  fortified  trading-post  in  the  English  in 
terest.  Here  it  was  hoped  to  obtain  a 
large  accession  of  Indians  ;  but  these  wa 
ry  savages,  having  heard  of  the  French 
success  on  the  Monongahela,  were  not 
disposed  to  join  those  whom  they  be 
lieved  to  belorig  to  the  weaker  party. 
Deprived  of  this  Indian  aid,  and  finding 
the  season  advanced  and  provisions  scan 
ty,  Shirley  was  forced  to  return  from  Os 
wego,  without  proceeding  to  Niagara. 
He,  however,  strengthened  the  Oswego 
fort,  and  left  a  garrison  of  seven  hundred 
men,  under  Mercer,  for  its  more  effectual 
protection  against  the  French. 


COLONIAL.] 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  JOHNSON. 


87 


CHAPTER   XL 

Colonel  William  Johnson  at  Crown  Point. — Johnson's  Career,  Character,  Magnificence,  and  LiAucnce  upon  his  Savage 
Dependants. — His  Baronial  Hall  and  its  Guests. — Partial  Success  at  Lake  George. — Surprise. — Repulse  of  the  French. 
— Great  Rewards  and  Small  Deeds. — Johnson  made  a  Baronet. — An  Indian  in  London. — One  Shilling  Each  Person. — 
A  Spirited  Subaltern. — The  Easy  Triumph  in  Acadia. — A  Garden  turned  into  a  Desert. — Trie  Energy  of  the  French. 
— The  Gallant  Bradstreet. — His  Desperate  but  Successful  Expedition  to  Oswego. — The  Pertinacious  Resistance  of  the 
French. — The  British  Government  making  a  more  Vigorous  Demonstration. — The  Earl  of  Loudoun's  Appointment. 
— Grand  Preparations. — Major-General  Abercrombie  arrives  in  Advance. — Does  nothing. — The  Earl  of  Loudoun  ar 
rives,  and  does  likewise. — British  Contempt  of  Colonial  Troops. — The  French  make  Great  Preparations. — The  Mar 
quis  de  Montcalrn. — His  Life  and  Character. — His  Heroism  at  Exilles. — Montcalm's  Energy. — A  Winter  Attack  on 
Fort  Ontario. — Victory. — Canadian  Exultation. — "  Bring  Lilies  with  Full  Hands." — The  English  in  Despair. — Inac 
tivity  of  Lord  Loudoun. — The  Massacre  at  Kittanang. 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  JOHNSON  commanded 
the  third  expedition.  This  set  out  to  at 
tack  the  French  fort  at  Crown  Point,  on 
Lake  Champlain.  Johnson  was  selected, 
not  from  any  proof  he  had  given  of  mili 
tary  skill,  but  in  consequence  of  the  won 
derful  influence  he  was  known  to  possess 
over  the  Indians.  Having  been  early  in 
duced  to  leave  his  native  Ireland  by  his 
uncle,  Admiral  Warren,  who  had  large 
possessions  in  the  western  part  of  the 
province  of  New  York,  and  who  wished 
him  to  take  charge  of  them,  the  young 
Irishman  came  over  to  America.  His 
home  was  now  fixed  on  the  banks  of  the 
Mohawk,  then  almost  a  wilderness,  with 
no  inhabitants  but  the  roaming  Indians. 
Johnson  became  fond  of  this  wild  life, 
and  sought  to  share  with  his  savage 
neighbors  in  their  untrammelled  habits. 

His  personal  appearance  —  as  he  was 
tall,  well-proportioned,  and  possessed  of 
<i  handsome  face,  with  an  expression  of 
calm  dignity  such  as  belongs  to  those 
born  to  command — commended  him  at 
once  to  Indian  admiration,  which  is  free 
ly  extended  to  those  who  can  claim  pre 


tensions  to  manly  strength  and  beauty. 
He  was,  moreover,  so  cool,  that  he  never 
seemed  to  lose  his  self-possession;  and. 
although  ordinarily  a  man  of  few  words, 
yet,  when  the  occasion  prompted,  he  was 
fervid  and  even  eloquent  in  speech.  He 
was  fond,  too,  of  the  exciting  dangers  of 
the  chase.  He  excelled  as  a  marksman, 
with  his  rifle  ;  while,  incapable  of  fatigue, 
he  could  follow  the  game  with  as  long 
and  untiring  an  endurance  as  that  of  the 
most  practised  native  hunter.  The  In 
dians  found,  in  these  characteristics  of  the 
young  Irishman,  so  much  that  was  con 
genial  to  their  own  nature,  that  they 
readily  welcomed  Johnson  among  them 
as  one  of  themselves.  His  powers  of  com 
mand  soon  effected  the  rest ;  and,  from 
appreciation  of  him  as  a  companion,  came 
naturally  admiration  of  his  superior  na 
ture,  and  a  ready  subjection  to  his  will. 

With  a  lingering  attachment,  in  spite 
of  his  love  of  a  forest-life,  for  the  luxu 
ries  and  comforts  of  civilization,  he  built 
on  the  banks  of  the  Mohawk  two  spn- 
cious  mansions,  known  as  his  castle  and 
his  hall.  In  the  former  he  shut  himself 


88 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


up  in  the  winter,  and  the  latter  was  his 
summer  residence.  Here  he  received  all 
British  officers  or  adventurous  travellers 
whom  duty  or  love  of  travel  had  brought 
there,  and  entertained  them  with  the  free 
hospitality  of  an  old  English  baronial  hall. 
Here,  too,  the  Indians  came  in  tribes ;  and 
five  hundred  of  them  have  been  known 
to  be  welcomed  by  him  to  the  profuse 
conviviality  of  the  hall  by  day,  and  to 
have  thrown  themselves  at  night  on  the 
ground,  with  their  liberal  host  in  their 
midst,  and  thus  have  slept  over  the  effects 
of  the  carouse.  Johnson  had  won  such 
an  influence  over  the  Indians,  that  he 
never  feared,  though  the  only  white  man 
present,  thus  to  trust  himself  unguarded 
to  his  savage  neighbors.  With  the  Five 
Nations  he  ruled  almost  supreme ;  and 
now  that  he  was  called  upon  to  do  ser 
vice  for  his  country,  Hendrik,  a  Mohawk 
chief,  followed  him  at  his  bidding,  with 
three  hundred  warriors  of  his  tribe. 

Besides  his  Indian  allies,  Johnson  had 
mustered  at  Albany  a  large  provincial 
force,  consisting  of  several  thousand  men, 
chiefly  from  Connecticut  and  Massachu 
setts.  Most  of  these  were  sent  forward, 
to  establish  a  post  between  Lake  George 
and  the  Hudson  river.  This  was  done, 
and  the  place  was  called  Fort  Edward. 
Johnson  himself  followed  after  with  his 
Indians  and  the  rest  of  the  troops,  and, 
joining  the  advance-party  at  the  fort 
which  they  had  completed,  marched  on, 
with  all  his  force,  excepting  a  small  gar 
rison  of  three  hundred  left  to  guard  Fort 
Edward.  Passing  through  the  wilderness, 
where  there  was  neither  house  nor  fort, 
Johnson  halts  his  men  on  the  southern 


borders  of  a  lake,  to  which  he  gives  the 
name  of  his  sovereign,  and  which  has  ever 
since  been  known  as  Lake  George. 

Bancroft,  with  his  usual  artistic  skill, 
paints  a  picture  of  the  scene  thus :  "  The 
lake  protects  him  on  the  north ;  his  flanks 
are  covered  by  a  thick  wood  and  a  swamp. 
The  tents  of  the  husbandmen  and  me 
chanics,  who  form  his  summer  army,  are 
spread  on  a  rising  ground ;  but  no  forti 
fications  are  raised,  nor  is  even  a  trench 
thrown  up.  On  week-days,  the  men,  ac 
customed  to  freedom,  saunter  to  and  fro 
in  idleness ;  or  some,  weary  of  inaction, 
are  ready  to  mutiny  and  go  home.  On 
Sunday,  all  come  forth  and  collect  in  the 
groves  for  the  worship  of  God ;  three  hun 
dred  men,  also,  regularly  enlisted  under 
the  English  flag,  and  paid  from  the  Eng 
lish  treasury,  seat  themselves  on  the  hil 
lock,  and,  while  the  light  of  a  summer's 
afternoon  is  shedding  its  sweetest  influ 
ence  on  the  tops  of  the  forest-clad  mount 
ains  and  on  the  still  waters  of  the  deep, 
transparent  lake,  they  listen  gravely  to 
the  interpretation  of  a  long  sermon. 
Meanwhile,  wagon  after  wagon  brought 
artillery,  and  stores  and  boats  for  the 
troops  that  were  listlessly  whiling  away 
the  season." 

This  idle  state  of  existence  was,  how 
ever,  interrupted  by  the  return  of  some 
scouts  with  the  intelligence  that  Dieskau 
was  approaching  with  a  large  force  ;  but 
what  were  their  exact  numbers,  the  scouts 
(who  were  Indians,  and  unable  to  count) 
could  not  tell.  Johnson  now  resolved 
upon  sending  out  a  force  to  check  the 
French  advance.  Accordingly,  one  thou 
sand  provincials  and  two  hundred  Indians 


COLONIAL.] 


JOHNSON'S  SMALL  SUCCESS. 


89 


were  despatched  for  this  service,  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Ephraim  Wil 
liams.  Among  his  private  soldiers  was 
Israel  Putnam,  of  Connecticut,  of  whom, 
in  the  course  of  our  history,  we  shall 
have  much  that  is  memorable  to  relate. 
They  had  hardly  gone  three  miles  from 
the  camp  on  Lake  George,  and  fairly  en 
tered  the  ravine  through  which  the  nar 
row  road  passed,  when  they  were  at 
tacked  by  the  French  and  Indians,  who 
had  awaited  them  in  ambush  among  the 
forests  and  wooded  swamps  extending  on 
either  side  of  the  long  line  of  march. 
With  this  disadvantage,  the  English  pro 
vincials,  though  they  resisted  bravely, 
were  utterly  routed,  and  pursued  to  with 
in  a  short  distance  of  the  camp,  where 
the  French  were  brought  to  a  check  by 
a  vigorous  onset  of  a  party  of  three  hun 
dred  men  sent  by  Johnson  to  drive  off 
the  pursuers. 

The  camp  had  not  been  intrenched. 
So,  while  the  enemy  was  brought  to  a 
pause,  Johnson  began  to  prepare  a  tem 
porary  defence,  by  cutting  down  trees 
and  rolling  them  together,  in  order  to 
form  a  breastwork,  behind  which  several 
cannon  were  dragged  and  placed  in  posi 
tion.  The  wagons  and  baggage  were  also 
arranged  so  as  to  serve  as  a  cover  for 
the  provincial  marksmen. 

Johnson  had  hardly  time  to  make 
these  hasty  preparations,  before  Dieskau 
and  his  French  and  Indians  made  a  rush 
for  the  camp.  The  English  artillery  now 
began  to  play  with  such  good  effect,  that 
the  savages  were  scattered  at  once,  and 
hid  themselves  in  the  pine-wood  covert 
on  the  neighboring  rising  ground,  from 
12 


which  they  kept  up  a  desultory  and  al 
most  harmless  fire.  The  Frenchmen,  how 
ever,  under  their  gallant  commander,  still 
advanced  in  the  very  mouth  of  the  can 
non,  until  finally  almost  every  man  was 
struck  down,  and  among  the  foremost 
fell  the  baron  Dieskau  himself,  mortally 
wounded.  Two  of  his  soldiers  hurried 
to  his  relief,  and  one  being  shot  down, 
the  other  was  ordered  away;  and  the 
dying  commander,  crawling  to  the  fallen 
trunk  of  a  tree,  seated  himself  upon  it, 
and  calmly  awaited,  amid  a  shower  of 
bullets,  the  issue  of  the  struggle.  The 
result  was  a  complete  victory,  the  French 
having  lost  no  less  than  eight  hundred 
men,  while  the  Americans  suffered  only 
to  the  extent  of  two  hundred  and  twenty 
killed  and  nineteen  wounded.  Johnson 
himself  was  wounded  early  in  the  strug 
gle,  and  was  obliged  to  retire  to  his  tent. 
Lyman,  his  second  in  command,  however, 
completed  the  success  of  the  day  by  pur 
suing  the  enemy  for  a  short  time  at  the 
close  with  great  slaughter. 

The  Canadians  and  Indians,  as  they 
retreated,  were  met  by  a  party  of  a  hun 
dred  and  twenty  New-Hampshire  men, 
under  a  youth  of  the  name  of  M'Ginnes, 
and,  being  attacked,  were  put  to  the  rout, 
although  the  young  American  leader  was 
killed. 

This  small  success  of  Johnson  was  such 
an  exceptional  case  of  triumph  during 
that  year  for  the  English  arms  in  Amer 
ica,  that  the  British  government  was  dis 
posed  to  make  the  most  of  it.  A  baro 
netcy  was  accordingly  bestowed  upon 
Colonel  Johnson,  and  a  grant  of  five  thou 
sand  pounds,  as  a  reward  for  his  services. 


90 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART 


The  public  interest  in  England  in  John 
son's  success  was  kept  alive  by  the  exag 
gerated  importance  given  to  it  by  the 
authorities ;  and  in  this  contemporary  ad 
vertisement  in  the  Public  Advertiser  of  the 
year  1755,  we  read  the  appeal  of  a  show 
man,  which  illustrates  the  general  curi 
osity  of  London  on  the  occasion: — 

"  THE  ONLY  INDIAN  IN  ENGLAND  SINCE  THE 
REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ANNE ! 

"  JUST  ARRIVED  FROM  AMERICA,  and  to  be 
seen  at  the  NEW  YORK  AND  CAPE  BRETON 
COFFEE-HOUSE,  in  Sweeting's  Alley,  from  12 
to  3,  and  from  4  till  6,  to  the  latter  end 
of  next  week,  and  then  will  embark  for 
America  in  the  '  General  Webb,'  Captain 
Boardman,  a  famous  MOHAWK  INDIAN  WAR 
RIOR  !  the  same  person  who  took  M.  DIES- 
KAU,  THE  FRENCH  GENERAL,  prisoner  at  the 
BATTLE  OF  LAKE  GEORGE,  where  GENERAL 
JOHNSON  beat  the  French,  and  was  one  of 
the  said  General's  Guards.  He  is  dressed 
in  the  same  manner  with  his  native  In 
dians  when  they  go  to  war ;  his  face  and 
body  painted,  with  his  SCALPING-KNIFE,  TOM- 
AXE,  and  all  other  implements  of  war  that 
are  used  by  the  Indians  in  battle  ;  a  sight 
worthy  the  curiosity  of  every  TRUE  BRITON. 

"  PRICE,  one  shilling  each  person? 

The  conduct  of  Colonel  Johnson  was 
hardly  such  as  to  merit  all  the  distinc 
tion  and  public  notice  it  received.  How 
ever  brilliant  his  success  at  Lake  George, 
his  proceedings  afterward  showed  less 
energy  and  spirit  than  might  have  been 
expected  from  the  supposed  courage  and 
activity  of  this  remarkable  man.  Instead 
of  pushing  on,  while  his  troops  were  in 
the  full  tide  of  victory,  and  making  a  bold 


stroke  for  the  position  at  Crown  Point, 
which  was  the  object  of  the  expedition, 
Johnson  remained  at  L ake  George.  Here 
it  is  true  he  kept  his  men  busy,  for  he 
built  a  fort,  which  he  named  Fort  Henry, 
and  garrisoned  it  with  a  small  detach 
ment  of  provincial  troops;  he  then  moved 
the  main  body  of  his  forces  back  to  Al 
bany,  and  sent  the  men  to  their  several 
homes. 

A  spirited  subaltern,  of  the  name  of 
Rogers,  who  was  left  at  Lake  George,  did 
something;  however,  by  his  activity  and 
boldness,  toward  retrieving  what  was  lost 
by  the  remissness  of  Johnson.  Rogers 
made  frequent  sallies  against  the  French 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Crown  Point,  by 
which  he  succeeded  in  cutting  off  many 
of  their  detached  parties,  and  keeping  a 
watchful  eye  upon  their  proceedings. 
Thus,  he  learned  that  the  French  had 
collected  together  some  two  thousand 
Canadians  and  Indians,  and  a  good  force 
of  artillery,  at  Ticonderoga,  situated  .at 
the  northern  end  of  Lake  George,  and 
that  they  were  busy  in  fortifying  that 
post.  ^ 

To  this  partial  success  of  Johnson,  the 
British  could  only  add  that  of  the  cruel 
expulsion  of  the  Acadians  from  Nova  Sco 
tia.  It  is  not  for  us,  however,  to  do  more 
than  make  a  passing  mention  of  what  cer 
tainly  can  not  properly  be  included  in 
"The  Battles  of  America."  It  is  true 
that  New  England  sent  its  two  thousand 
men,  and  some  heavy  artillery  served  by 
British  regulars,  to  compel  by  force,  if 
need  be,  the  submission  of  the  French 
inhabitants  of  the  English  province  of 
Nova  Scotia.  The  troops  were  landed 


COLONIAL.J 


RELIEF  OF  OSWEGO. 


91 


without  interruption ;  they  paraded  gay- 
ly  upon  the  shores,  and,  after  a  night's 
quiet  repose,marched  deliberately  against 
the  Acadians,  who  hardly  ventured  to  op 
pose  them.  The  fort  of  Beausejour  sur 
rendered  in  four  clays.  That  of  St.  John 
was  abandoned  and  burnt ;  and  the  other 
small  fortresses  capitulated  without  resist 
ance.  The  inhabitants  were  declared  trai 
tors,  their  possessions  forfeited,  and  all 
the  men,  women,  and  children,  exiled  for 
ever  from  their  homes  and  their  altars, 
their  gardens  and  their  pastures !  This 
was  persecution,  not  war.  Hate  tortured 
her  victims.  Courage  did  not  strike  a 
blow.  The  tears  of  the  weak  and  inno 
cent  were  poured  out.  Not  a  drop  of 
blood  was  shed  by  the  strong  in  the 
might  of  resistance.  We  pass,  therefore, 
gladly  from  woman's  tears  and  children's 
cries,  wrung  by  cruelty,  to  listen  to  the 
shouts  of  men  and  heroes  battling  for 
right  or  might.  Our  duty,  thank  Heav 
en,  is  to  record  the  deeds  of  the  manly 
brave,  not  the  work  of  the  inhuman  per 
secutor  ! 

The  French  were  prepared  to  recom 
mence  hostilities  with  the  opening  of  an 
other  year,  and  their  first  move 
ment  was  a  success.  There  was  a 
small  English  fort  on  the  Oswego  route. 
This  was  now  the  point  of  attack.  Three 
hundred  and  fifty  Canadians,  under  M. 
Chaussegros  de  Levy,  arrived  before  the 
fort.  Lieutenant  Ball,  in  command,  with 
two  dozen  men,  was  summoned  to  sur 
render.  He  refused,  determined  to  resist 
to  the  last.  The  French  began  their  at- 
tack,  and  overpowered  their  handful  of 
opponents,  who,  with  the  exception  of 


two,  were  mercilessly  scalped  by  the 
French  savages. 

Another  expedition  from  Canada  now 
set  out  to  attack  the  provincial  fort  at 
Oswego ;  but,  before  reaching  it,  the 
French  halted  at  a  short  distance,  and 
erected  a  small  fortification  of  their  own, 
so  hid  in  the  forest  as  to  be  unseen  by 
their  opponents ;  and  thus  succeeded  in 
greatly  harassing  them,  by  cutting  off 
supplies  and  preventing  reinforcements. 
LieutenantrColonel  Bradstreet,  who  had 
wron  the  confidence  of  Sir  William  Pep- 
perell  in  the  famous  siege  of  Louisburg, 
by  his  prowess,  now  went  to  the  rescue 
of  Oswego.  His  men  were  chiefly  raw 
Irish  recruits,  but  Bradstreet  knew  how 
to  control  their  irregular  impulses,  and 
succeeded  in  getting  a  great  deal  of  ef 
fective  work  out  of  them.  He  succeeded 
in  reaching  Oswego,  and  supplying  the 
garrison  with  provisions.  A  French  force 
of  seven  hundred  men  tried  to  intercept 
him,  but,  having  lost  their  way  in  the  for 
est,  did  not  discover,  until  it  was  too  late, 
that  Bradstreet  was  in  advance  of  them. 
They  now  determined  to  lay  in  wait  for 
him  on  his  return. 

Bradstreet,  having  relieved  Oswego, 
now  commenced  to  retrace  his  steps. 
His  route  lay  by  the  river  Onondaga,  on 
the  banks  of  which  the  French  had  con 
cealed  themselves,  awaiting  his  approach. 
He,  either  conscious  of  this  danger,  or 
from  his  experience  of  American  warfare 
became  exceedingly  wary,  and  hit  upon 
an  excellent  expedient  for  avoiding  the 
dangers  of  an  ambuscade.  Bradstreet 
accordingly  took  the  precaution  of  divi 
ding  his  men  into  three  parties,  each  one 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    I. 


of  which  was  placed  in  a  separate  fleet 
of  canoes,  which  were  ordered  to  ascend 
the  Onondaga  at  small  distances  apart. 
In  this  way,  if  one  party  was  attacked 
suddenly,  the  others  might  come  up  pre 
pared  to  sustain  it.  Bradstreet  himself 
took  the  lead,  in  the  very  first  canoe ; 
the  others  followed  after,  bold  and  eager 
enough  for  a  fight ;  and  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  their  prudent  lead 
er  could  keep  the  Irish  blood  of  his  men 
sufficiently  cool  for  the  discreet  conduct 
that  was  necessary. 

Bradstreet's  experience  in  border  war 
fare  led  him  to  expect,  at  any  moment, 
to  see  the  flash  of  the  Canadian  musket, 
or  hear  the  war-whoop  of  the  savage,  from 
the  dark  clumps  of  cedars,  and  the  crags 
of  the  rugged  banks  which  bordered  the 
river.*  It  was  on  the  3d  of  July  when 
they  embarked.  The  stream  was  low, 
and  difficult  of  navigation  ;  and  the  trees 
and  underwood,  luxuriant  with  their  mid 
summer  foliage,  afforded  complete  con 
cealment  to  the  enemy.  For  a  length  of 
nine  miles  the  canoes  were  forced  up  the 
Onondaga  with  great  toil,  but  with  no 
interference.  They  had  thus  reached  a 
point  where  there  was  a  small  island  sur 
rounded  by  rapids,  and  the  banks  of  the 
river  were  thickly  shaded  by  a  dense  for 
est-growth,  when  suddenly  a  volley  of 
musketry  and  an  Indian  war-whoop  burst 
through  the  silence  of  the  wilderness. 
The  effect  upon  those  in  the  advance- 
canoes  was  terribly  fatal ;  but  Bradstreet 
and  six  of  his  men  pushed  at  once  for 
the  island,  where  a  score  of  the  enemy, 

*  The  Conquest  of  Canada,  by  the  Author  of  "  Hochela- 
ga,"  &c.     New  York  :  Plarper  and  Brothers. 


having  plunged  into  the  river  and  made 
their  way  through  a  ford,  had  arrived  be 
fore  him.  So  spirited,  however,  was  the 
onset  of  the  colonel  and  his  half-dozen 
men,  that  he  succeeded  in  driving  back 
the  enemy  to  the  mainland. 

The  French,  however,  now  came  up 
again  to  the  attack  with  increased  num 
bers.  Bradstreet,  too,  in  the  meantime 
had  been  reinforced  by  fourteen  other 
men,  who  had  just  landed  from  those  ca 
noes  wrhich  had  brought  up  the  rear  of 
the  advance-party.  The  French  were 
forced  again  to  retire ;  and,  renewing  for 
a  third  time  the  attack,  with  more  men 
still,  a  fierce  struggle  ensued,  which  last 
ed  nearly  an  hour.  Bradstreet  wras  again 
victorious,  and  with  his  twenty  men  suc 
ceeded  in  putting  to  a  complete  rout  all 
who  were  left  of  the  seventy  Frenchmen 
who  had  attempted  to  dislodge  him  from 
the  island. 

The  rest  of  Bradstreet's  forces  had  land 
ed  on  the  shore  lower  down,  and  were 
marching  to  the  relief  of  their  comrades 
on  the  island.  The  main  body  of  the 
French,  observing  this  movement,  crossed 
the  stream,  to  prevent  the  junction.  But 
Bradstreet,  having  now  succeeded  in  beat 
ing  off  the  enemy's  attack  on  the  island, 
was  free  to  join  the  rest  of  his  troops 
which  he  succeeded  in  doing,  and  led 
them  with  a  vigorous  onslaught  against 
the  main  body  of  the  French,  who  were 
forced  back  into  the  river.  Many  fell 
dead  before  the  brisk  fire  of  Bradstreet's 
men,  but  many  more  were  drowned  in 
their  attempts  to  cross  the  river. 

The  enemy,  in  spite  of  these  repeated 
defeats,  still  pertinaciously  prolonged  the 


COLONIAL.] 


BRADSTREET'S  VICTORY. 


93 


struggle.  A  number,  while  Bradstreet 
was  below,  on  the  mainland,  began  to 
cross  the  ford  below,  near  the  small  isl 
and  ;  but  they  had  hardly  reached  the 
opposite  bank,  and  made  ready  for  an 
attack,  when  the  English  came  rushing 
down,  and  with  one  impulsive  effort  drove 
them  back  into  the  stream.  The  French 
lost  more  than  a  hundred  men,  who  were 
either  shot  or  drowned,  while  seventy 
were  taken  prisoners.  The  loss  of  Brad- 
street,  too,  was  no  less  than  sixty  killed 
or  wounded. 

The  English  troops  were  too  much  fa 
tigued  to  continue  the  pursuit  immedi 
ately;  and  when,  next  morning,  they 
were  reinforced  by  a  company  of  grena 
diers  on  their  way  to  Oswego,  and  some 
two  hundred  men  besides  who  had  come 
to  their  aid  from  that  fort,  Bradstreet 
found  that  the  Onondaga  was  so  flooded 
with  the  pouring  rain  during  the  night, 
that  it  would  be  quite  impracticable  to 
follow  the  enemy.  The  company  of  gren 
adiers,  therefore,  accompanied  the  detach 
ment  from  the  fort  back  to  Oswego,  and 
Bradstreet  with  the  rest  of  his  forces  went 
on  his  way  to  Albany. 

The  British  government,  having  now 
at  last  declared  an  open  war  against  the 
French,  was  disposed  to  carry  on 
hostilities  in  America  with  greater 
vigor.  The  earl  of  Loudoun,  a  great 
stickler  for  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown, 
and  a  proportionate  opponent  of  all  co 
lonial  disenthralment,  was  sent  out  to 
America,  with  unusual  powers.  Pie  was 
made  general-in-chief  of  all  the  forces  on 
the  American  continent,  and  colonel  of  a 
regiment  of  four  battalions,  to  be  corn- 


June. 


posed  principally  of  the  Swiss  and  Ger 
man  Protestants  in  America,  and  to  be 
commanded  by  officers  of  their  own  na 
tive  countries.  To  give  additional  dig 
nity  to  his  lordship's  appointment,  he  was 
also  made  governor  of  Virginia. 

Previous,  however,  to  the  setting  out 
of  the  earl  of  Loudoun,  Major-General 
Abercrombie  had  been  ordered  to  pre 
cede  him,  and  hold  the  command  until 
his  lordship's  arrival.  Abercrombie  was 
now  at  Albany,  with  four  regiments  of 
British  regulars,  two  of  which 
had  accompanied  him  from  Eng 
land,  the  New-England  battalions,  eight 
independent  companies,  and  a  large  body 
of  provincial  militia,  making  all  together 
the  formidable  army,  for  those  days,  of 
ten  thousand  men.  At  Albany,  too,  was 
assembled  the  council  of  governors  from 
the  various  provinces,  to  confer  with  the 
British  general  in  regard  to  the  plans  of 
a  campaign  against  the  French  in  Amer 
ica.  Abercrombie  resisted  the  urgent  ap 
peals  of  the  council  to  carry  out  a  scheme 
of  general  attack,  on  the  plea  that  his 
force  was  not  sufficiently  large  for  so  ex 
tensive  an  undertaking.  He,  therefore, 
declined  to  act  on  his  own  responsibility, 
and  determined  to  await  the  arrival  of 
his  superior  in  command,  the  earl  of  Lou 
doun.  He,  however,  was  prevailed  upon 
to  send  General  Winslow,  with  the  pro 
vincial  forces,  to  the  English  fort  William 
Henry,  on  Lake  George,  where  he  was 
to  await  reinforcements,  and  then  march 
against  the  French  post  at  Crown  Point, 
on  Lake  Cham  plain. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  brave  Bradstreet 
at  Albany,  he  hurried  to  the  quarters  of 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


fl'ART    I. 


General  Abercrombie,  and,  giving  in  the 
report  of  his  own  successes,  laid  before 
him  the  dangerous  position  of  Oswego, 
and  earnestly  urged  the  necessity  of  de 
spatching  immediate  relief.  The  British 
officer,  Colonel  Webb,  was  accordingly 
ordered  to  hold  himself  in  readiness  to 
march  with  his  regiment  on  this  service  ; 
but,  for  some  reason  or  other,  a  long  and 
fatal  delay  ensued.  The  provincial  coun 
cil  and  Abercrombie  were  supposed  to 
be  at  loggerheads.  The  former  declared 
for  Crown  Point :  the  latter  favored  the 
march  to  Oswego.  So,  to  settle  the  dif 
ference,  nothing  was  done. 

Lord  Loudoun  now  arrived  at 
Albany,  and  assumed  command 
at  once ;  but,  full  of  his  own  dignity,  and 
reserved  in  his  communications  with  oth 
ers,  he  would  listen  to  no  suggestions 
from  those  who  knew  so  much  of  a  coun 
try  about  which  he  knew  so  little.  He 
had  the  proverbial  contempt  of  his  coun 
trymen  for  the  colonies,  and  had  no  faith 
either  in  the  wisdom  of  the  colonial  gov 
ernor  or  the  courage  of  the  colonial  sol 
dier.  The  force  at  Albany  was  large— 
amounting,  as  we  have  seen,  to  ten  thou 
sand  men ;  but  more  than  half  of  these 
were  provincials  —  "mostly  vagabonds 
picked  up  by  the  New-Englanders  at  ran 
dom,"  wrote  Abercrombie,  who  exclaimed, 
"  With  such  troops,  what  can  we  do  ?" 
Loudoun  no  doubt  echoed,  with  fellow- 
contempt,  these  opinions  so  disparaging 
to  the  colonists.  They  could  not  learn  the 
simple  lesson  of  experience,  which,  if  they 
had,  would  have  taught  them  that  all  the 
victories  had  been  wron  in  these  colonial 
battles  by  the  "  vagabonds,"  while  the  de 


feats  were  to  be  set  down  to  the  boasted 
"  regulars."     Abercrombie  did  nothing; : 

o  CD 

Lord  Loudoun  did  no  more. 

The  French,  however,  were  not  inac 
tive.  The  court  at  Versailles  had  sent 
out  a  considerable  force  of  regulars  to 
America,  under  the  command  of  the  mar 
quis  de  Montcalm.  A  better  leader  could 
not  have  been  chosen.  Montcalm  had  a 
wise  head  and  a  dauntless  spirit.  Born 
of  a  noble  family,  he  had  inherited  the 
traditional  chivalry  of  his  race.  On  his 
escutcheon  he  bore  the  motto  of  "  Extin 
guisher  of  the  Dragon,"  as  a  perpetual 
record,  handed  down  from  generation  to 
generation,  of  the  prowess  of  an  ances 
tral  Templar  of  St.  John,  who  had  deliv 
ered  the  isle  of  Rhodes  from  the  ravages 
of  some  mysterious  monster.  He  was  de 
scended  from  a  long  line  of  heroes,  and 
wras  destined  to  illustrate,  in  his  own  ca 
reer  the  heroic  temperament  of  his  fain- 

ily. 

His  education  was  carefully  conducted 
by  a  distinguished  man  of  science,  who 
bore  the  name  of  Dumas.  Under  his  tui 
tion,  the  young  Montcalm  was  so  endued 
with  a  love  of  study,  that,  although  he 
entered  the  army  at  the  early  age  of  four 
teen,  he  preserved  his  taste  for  science 
and  literature  amid  all  the  tumultuous 
life  of  the  camp,  and  became  remarkable 
for  his  mental  acquirements. 

Montcalm's  military  career  was  rapidly 
made  brilliant  by  his  gallant  behavior. 
He  was  wounded  three  times  at  the  bat 
tle  of  Plaisance,  and  twice  in  the  heroic 
struo-o-le  at  Exilles.  This  latter  was  the 

Oo 

battle  where  was  enacted  a  scene  that 
has  only  been   paralleled  since  by  the 


COLONIAL. J 


CHARACTER  OF  MONTCALM. 


charge  of  the  English  "Light-Brigade" 
at  Balaklava,  when — 

"  Into  the  valley  of  Death 
Rode  the  six  hundred !" 

The  count  of  Belleisle  had  been  prom 
ised  the  baton  of  a  marshal  if  he  should 
succeed  in  the  campaign  in  Piedmont. 
Meeting  the  enemy  at  Exilles,  the  count 
began  an  imprudent  attack,  which  result 
ed  in  the  defeat  of  the  French.  He  felt 
so  greatly  the  ill  success  of  an  attempt 
which  had  been  disapproved  of  by  all 
experience,  that  in  his  desperation  he 
put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  officers, 
and  led  them  in  a  column  against  the 
intrenchments  Avithin  which  the  enemy 
had  withdrawn !  Few  only  escaped. 
Belleisle  himself,  wounded  in  both  hands, 
madly  strove  to  tear  down  with  his  teeth 
the  palisades  of  the  wall,  when  he  re 
ceived  a  mortal  shot.  Montcalm  was  one 
of  this  heroic  brigade,  which,  true  to  dis 
cipline,  obeyed  even  the  insane  command 
of  their  leader. 

But  a  few  years  past  forty,  Montcalm, 
although  full  of  the  enterprising  spirit 
of  youth,  was,  from  his  long  service  in 
the  army,  a  veteran  in  experience.  He 
was  short  in  person,  but  of  a  wiry  struc 
ture.  Active,  and  of  great  powers  of  en 
durance,  he  possessed  all  the  gay  vivaci 
ty  6f  his  countrymen,  and  was  lively  in 
times  of  social  enjoyment  as  he  was  all 
activity  in  business.  He  was  quick  to 
observe,  and  bold  and  prompt  in  action. 
He  soon  proved  that  he  was  the  right 
man  in  the  right  place. 

There  was  no  dilly-dallying  about  Mont 
calm.  He  had  not  been  at  Quebec  a  week 
before  he  was  ready  to  set  out  with  his 


Aug.  12. 


French  troops  for  Oswego,  which  had 
been  so  disgracefully  neglected  by  the 
dilatory  Abercrombie  and  the  self-suffi 
cient  Lord  Loudoun.  De  Vaudreuil  was 
sent  in  advance  with  a  considerable  force 
of  Canadian  militia,  raised  at  Montreal. 
Montcalm  was  not  long  behind  him,  with 
his  regulars,  and  ready  to  commence  op 
erations.  The  French  commander's  first 
object  was  to  attack  Fort  Ontario,  which 
was  situated  on  the  river  Onondaga,  at 
its  mouth,  where  it  empties  into  Lake 
Ontario,  and  opposite  to  the  more  im 
portant  Fort  Oswego.  Here  accordingly 
he  opened  his  trenches  at  once, 
and,  with  his  usual  promptness, 
beginning  at  the  dawn  of  day,  succeeded 
in  overcoming  the  resistance  of  the  be 
sieged  before  nightfall.  Taking  posses 
sion  of  Fort  Ontario,  from  which  the  gar 
rison  had  fled  to  Oswego,  without  spiking 
all  the  cannon  in  their  hurry,  Montcalm 
turned  the  remaining  guns  with  great  ef 
fect  upon  the  fort  opposite.  It  wras  not 
long  before  the  walls  of  Oswego  gave 
way ;  and  the  English  seeing,  with  their 
leader  Mercer  struck  down,  and  a  breach 
made  in  their  fortress,  no  hope  of  a  longer 
resistance,  capitulated. 

The  victory  for  the  French  was  a  great 
one.  They  became  possessed  of  an  im 
portant  post,  took  captive  twelve  hundred 
prisoners, and  obtained  several  armed  ves 
sels,  two  hundred  batteaux,  and  a  vast 
quantity  of  treasure,  military  stores,  and 
provisions.  They  made  the  most  of  their 
triumph,  sending  the  British  flags  to  be 
hung  in  the  churches  of  Quebec  and  Mon 
treal;  erecting  crosses  at  Oswego,  with 
the  inscription,  "  This  is  the  banner  of 


9G 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  r. 


victory;"  and  raising  triumphant  columns, 
upon  which  their  joy  was  illustrated^  by 
the  exultant  words,  carved  in  stone  — 
"  Bring  lilies  with  full  hands  !" 

Montcalm  razed  the  fort  at  Oswego  to 
the  ground,  and  began  a  desolating  inarch 
eastward,  burning  the  dwellings  and  the 
crops  of  the  frontier  settlers  of  New  York, 
and  killing  and  scalping  all  the  unfortu 
nate  inhabitants  he  met.  Colonel  Webb, 
in  the  meantime,  with  his  seventeen  hun 
dred  men,  who  had  been  kept  back  until 
it  was  too  late  to  render  any  service  to 
the  neglected  fort  at  Oswego,  was  slowly 
making  his  way,  until  he  heard  of  the 
French  success,  when  he  precipitately 
took  to  flight.  Walpole  might  well  say, 
when  this  disastrous  news  reached  Eng 
land  :  "  The  negligence  and  dilatoriness 
of  our  government  at  home,  and  the  lit 
tle-minded  quarrels  between  the  regular 
and  irregular  forces,  have  reduced  our  af 
fairs  in  that  part  of  the  world  [America] 
to  a  most  deplorable  state.  Oswego,  of 
ten  times  more  importance  even  than  Mi 
norca,  is  so  annihilated,  that  we  can  not 
learn  the  particulars." 

Something  was  naturally  expected  from 
the  expedition  of  General  Winslow,  an 
able  officer,  who  had  acquired  great  re 
nown  in  the  siege  of  Louisburg;  but,  al 
though  the  French  fort  at  Crown  Point, 
on  Lake  Cham  plain,  was  its  original  des 
tination,  it  got  no  farther  than  the  Eng 
lish  forts  Edward  and  William  Henry. 

i/ 

These  Winslow  strengthened  by  leaving 
a  portion  of  his  force  ;  but  was  prevented 
from  striking  a  blow  against  the  enemy 
by  the  inactivity  and  pusillanimous  con 
duct  of  his  superiors.  Lord  Loudoun 


having  so  far  done  nothing,  now  seemed 
resolved  to  do  nothing  for  the  future ; 
and,  after  an  inglorious  inactivity  at  Al 
bany,  he  sent  the  provincials  to  their  sev 
eral  homes. 

The  English  colonists  obtained  some 
consolation  for  their  repeated  ill  fortune, 
by  a  small  success  against  the  Indian 
town  of  Kittanang,  lying  in  a  valley 
among  the  Alleghanies.  This  was  the 
nest  of  a  horde  of  Indian  savages,  who 
had  stolen  upon  the  English  settlers  scat 
tered  about  the  western  frontier,  and  mas 
sacred  a  thousand  of  them.  About  three 
hundred  men  now  hurriedly  collected  to 
gether,  and,  choosing  one  Armstrong  for 
their  leader,  determined  to  revenge  the 
merciless  murder  of  their  countrymen. 
They  pushed  on,  forgetting  the  fatigues 
and  perils  of  the  hard  and  dangerous  road 
of  some  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  length, 
in  their  eagerness  for  revenge.  On  arri 
ving  at  the  Indian  settlement  at  night, 
they  heard  the  savage  murderers  exult 
ing,  in  songs  and  dances,  over  their  late 
massacre.  Armstrong  awaited  until  dawn 
the  next  morning,  when,  suddenly  pre 
senting  himself,  he  offered  the  Indians 
quarter,  on  their  immediately  surrender 
ing.  The  savages  dared  not  accept  it ; 
and  then  the  provincials  began  an  attack, 
which  resulted  in  a  slaughter  and  a  cru 
elty  that  could  have  only  been  equalled 
by  the  Indians  themselves.  Some  of  the 
savages  were  shot,  some  beaten  down 
with  the  butt-ends  of  muskets,  some  shut 
up  in  their  huts  and  burned  to  death, 
some  blown  up  with  gunpowder,  and 
others  seized  and  scalped  as  the  Indians 
themselves  would  have  seized  and  scalped 


COLONIAL.] 


ACTIVITY  OF  MONTCALM. 


97 


the  English  if  they  had  been  victims  in 
stead  of  avengers. 

This  was  one  of  the  pitiful  successes 


which  were  to  weigh  against  the  prepon 
derating  victories  of  the  French  during 
the  whole  campaign  of  1756. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

A  North  -American  Winter. — Montcalrn's  Vigor. — Attack  upon  Fort  William  Henry. — Repulse. — Lord  Loudoun's  Great 
Means  and  Small  Results. — Sails  with  a  Great  Fleet  to  Halifax. — Does  nothing. — Success  of  Montcalm  against  Fort 
William  Henry. — Lord  Loudoun  returns  to  New  York. — England  in  Despair. — Pitt  comes  to  the  Rescue. — The  Right 
Men  in  the  Right  Place. — Amherst. — Boscawen. — James  Wolfe. — His  Life,  Character,  and  Personal  Appearance. — 
The  Expedition  against  Louisburg.— Wolfe  the  first  to  land. — The  French  repulsed  from  the  Shore. — Cooke  the  Navi 
gator. — Victory  at  Louisburg. — Wolfe  returns  Home  ill. — Seeks  Employment  in  the  next  American  Campaign. — Pitt's 
Liberal  Measures  toward  Provincial  Officers. — Abercrombie  succeeds  Lord  London  in  Command  in  America. — An 
Immense  Provincial  Force  marches  against  the  French  Fort  of  Ticonderoga. — Surprised  by  the  French. — Death  of  the 
Gallant  and  Youthful  Lord  Howe. — Grief  at  his  Full. — Failure  of  the  Attack  upon  Ticonderoga. — Bradstreet's  Expe 
dition. — Its  Success. — The  Expedition  against  Du  Quesne. — The  Highlanders. — A  Celt  in  Kilt  taken  for  an  Indian.— 
A  Catastrophe. — The  Highlanders  in  Difficulty. — A  Canny  Scot  gets  the  Advantage  of  the  Indians. — Escapes  Torture 
— Fort  Du  Quesne  abandoned. — Washington  plants  the  British  Flag. — Pittsburg. 


1757, 


WITH  the  successes  of  the  previ 
ous  year,  the  French,  under  the 
ever  vigilant  and  active  Montcalm,  were 
emboldened  to  begin  1757  with  great 
vigor.  It  was  January.  Canada  was 
bound  with  the  fetters  of  winter.  The 
waves  of  those  great  inland  seas,  the 
northern  lakes,  were  stilled.  The  rivers 
ceased  to  flow.  The  waters  everywhere 
had  turned  to  ice.  The  snow  covered 
the  mountain-tops,  and  filled  in  the  val 
leys.  Fields,  roads,  and  by-paths,  had 
departed  with  the  life  of  the  year,  and 
were  now  overspread  with  the  universal 
shroud  of  winter.  The  smoke  of  a  few 
hamlets,  under  the  cover  of  the  hillsides, 
scattered  distantly  over  the  wide,  wintry 
expanse,  betokened  the  existence  of  oc 
casional  home  warmth  and  comfort  •  but 
for  the  most  part  the  scene  was  one  of 
universal  wintry  desolation. 

It  was  not  in  the  nature  of  Montcalrn's 
13 


active  spirit  to  grow  torpid,  even  under 
the  influence  of  a  North-American  win 
ter.  In  the  very  depth  of  this  season  of 
frost  and  snow,  he  determined  to  send  a 
force  against  the  English  fort  William 
Henry,  at  the  southern  end  of  Lake 
George.  Fifteen  hundred  men,  four  hun 
dred  of  whom  were  Indians,  were  accord 
ingly  selected  for  this  service,  and  placed 
under  the  command  of  Rigaud  de  Vau- 
dreuil. 

The  route  was  a  long  one.  One  hun 
dred  and  fifty  miles  were  to  be  travelled 
before  reaching  the  fort.  Sledges  were 
made  ready,  and  dogs  harnessed  to  them 
with  thongs,  as  in  the  arctic  regions,  to 
drag  the  provisions  and  stores  through 
the  snow  and  over  the  ice.  Each  man 
was  clad  like  an  Esquimaux,  in  furs,  and 
given  a  leathern  mask  to  protect  his  face 
from  the  fatal  touch  of  the  biting  wind 
and  the  frost,  and  a  bearskin  within  which 


98 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[_PART    1. 


to  enfold  himself  when  encamped  at  night 
upon  the  snow.  Thus  equipped.,  they  set 
out,  passing  rapidly  over  the  frozen  sur 
face  of  Lake  Champlain  and  of  Lake 
George  with  their  sledges  and  their  snow- 
shoes.  As  they  approach  the  English 
fort,  they  await  the  coming  of  night,  and 
are  more  cautious  in  their  movements. 
Pioneers  are  sent  in  advance,  with  axes 
in  hand,  to  try  the  strength  of  the  ice, 
and  to  guide  the  force  in  safety  to  the 
walls  of  the  enemy.  With  cautious  steps 
they  reach  the  spot  in  the  dead  of  night, 
and  are  lifting  the  scaling-ladders  against 
the  fortifications,  when  the  sentry  ob 
serves  them,  and  gives  the  alarm.  The 
garrison  are  in  a  moment  on  their  de 
fence,  and,  with  a  brisk  volley  from  their 
cannon  and  musketry,  drive  back  the  as 
sailants. 

Next  morning  the  French  renew  the 
attack,  but  without  effect ;  and  again 
make  an  attempt  later  in  the  day,  but 
are  once  more  driven  back.  They  now 
summon  the  officer  in  command,  a  Major 
Eyres,  to  surrender.  He  resolutely  re 
fuses.  The  French  continue  the  assault, 
and,  after  making  in  all  five  unsuccessful 
efforts,  they  give  up  in  despair.  The 
stronghold  can  not  be  taken.  The  ene 
my,  however,  revenged  themselves  for 
their  repulse,  by  destroying  such  out 
works  of  the  fort  as  were  within  their 
reach.  Vaudreuil  now  sent  reinforce 
ments  to  the  French  forts  at  Ticondero- 
ga,  Crown  Point,  and  Niagara,  and  then 
returned  to  Montreal. 

The  garrison  at  Fort  William  Henry 
does  not  allow  the  winter  to  pass  in  idle 
ness.  Its  rangers  accordingly  sally  out, 


under  the  gallant  subaltern  Stark,  and 
succeed  in  falling  in  with  sledges  on  their 
route,  with  men  and  provisions,  for  the 
French  forts.  Stark,  with  some  seventy 
men,  takes  a  party  thus  by  surprise,  at 
tacks  them,  and  comes  off  victorious.  He 
is,  however,  intercepted  by  a  considera 
ble  force  on  his  return  to  the  fort,  with 
his  prisoners  and  booty,  and  a  third  of 
his  adventurous  rangers  are  laid  low ; 
but  Stark  and  the  survivors  so  gallantly 
defend  themselves,  that  the  enemy  are 
obliged  to  re-treat,  and  the  English  come 
off  with  all  the  glory. 

Lord  Loudoun,  having  done  nothing 
where  he  could  do  something,  now  un 
dertook  to  do  something  where  he  could 
do  nothing.  Taking  a  large  provincial 
force  from  the  colonies,  where  they  wer^ 
needed,  he  embarked  them  on  board  ai 
Eno-lish  fleet  consisting  of  numerous  men- 

o  o 

of-war  and  transports,and  sailed  with  them 
to  Halifax,  in  Nova  Scotia.  With  nine 
teen  ships-of-the-line  and  a  large  number 
of  smaller  vessels  in  that  harbor,  and  no 
less  than  thirteen  battalions  of  troops 
landed  after  a  prosperous  voyage,  Lou 
doun  was  in  a  condition  to  have  under 
taken  anything,  no  matter  how  formida 
ble.  The  time  was,  nevertheless,  wasted 
in  parade  and  mock-fights.  Louisburg, 
which,  after  the  famous  conquest  by  Sir 
William  Pepperell,  had  been  ceded  to 
France,  was  supposed  to  be  the  object 
of  attack  of  this  magnificent  armament. 
News  arriving,  however,  to  the  effect  that 
the  French,  with  some  three  thousand 
troops,  a  considerable  body  of  Indians 
and  militiamen,  and  a  fleet  of  eighteen 
ships-of-the-line,  were  prepared  to  defend 


COLONIAL.] 


FALL  OF  FORT  WILLIAM  HENRY. 


99 


themselves,  it  was  determined  by  the  pru 
dent  Loudoun  to  postpone  the  attempt 
upon  Louisburg. 

When  Loudoun  sailed  away  from  the 
place  where  he  was  most  wanted,  Mont- 
calm  took  occasion  to  avail  himself  of  his 
absence,  by  making  an  attack  upon  Fort 
William  Henry,  on  Lake  George.  Gath 
ering  some  eight  thousand  men  at  the 
French  fort  at  Ticonderoga,  he  marched 
with  his  usual  rapidity  against  Fort  Wil 
liam  Henry,  and  met  with  a  brave  resist 
ance  from  the  English  commander,  Mun- 
ro,  who,  to  a  haughty  demand  to  surren 
der,  answered  thus  spiritedly :  "  I  will 
defend  my  trust  to  the  last  extremity !" 
It  was,  however,  in  vain.  The  English, 
disappointed  in  their  hope  of  relief  from 
the  timid  Webb,  who  was  running  away, 
instead  of  coming  to  their  assistance,  were 
obliged  to  capitulate. 

Lord  Loudoun,  while  at  Halifax  in  a 
state  of  inaction,  heard  this  disastrous 
news  of  the  capture  of  Fort  William  Hen 
ry,  and  immediately  returned,with  a  large 
proportion  of  his  troops,  to  New  York ; 
but,  with  what  purpose,  it  would  be  diffi 
cult  to  conjecture.  He  left  the  English 
admiral  at  Halifax ;  but  that  officer  did 
nothing  but  sail  to  Louisburg  and  back 
again.  When  this  intelligence  reached 
England,  Walpole  wrote,  on  the  3d  day 
of  September,  1757:  "We  had  a  torrent 
of  bad  news  yesterday  from  America. 
Lord  Loudoun  has  found  an  army  of 
Iwenty  thousand  French,  gives  over  the 
design  on  Louisburg,  and  retires  to  Hali 
fax.  Admiral  Holborne  writes  that  they 
have  nineteen  ships  to  his  seventeen,  and 
that  he  can  not  attack  them.  It  is  time 


for  England  to  slip  her  own  cables,  and 
float  away  into  some  unknown  sea." 

Lord  Loudoun  arrived  at  New  York, 
and  thence  made  his  way  to  Fort  Edward, 
the  only  northern  post  left  to  the  Eng 
lish.  Here  he  gave  some  directions  for 
defence,  and  prudently  retired  to  Albany. 
Nothing,  however,  was  done ;  and  the 
British  people  and  the  British  govern 
ment  became  aware  at  last  that,  without 
some  change  in  men  and  measures,  Brit 
ish  dominion  in  the  West  would  be  lost 
to  them  for  ever. 

"  My  lord,  I  am  sure  that  I  can  save 
this  country,  and  that  no  one  else  can !" 
were  the  proud,  self-reliant  words  of  the 
great  commoner,  William  Pitt.  His  coun 
try  took  him  at  his  word ;  and,  with  the 
power  to  execute  what  his  comprehen 
sive  genius  had  conceived,  he  made  good 
his  grand  promise.  The  incapable  duke 
of  Newcastle,  deserted  by  Fox,  Avas  forced 
to  let  drop  from  his  feeble  hands  the 
reins  of  government.  Fox  himself  now 
strove  to  form  a  ministry ;  but,  with  all 
his  great  talents,  he  felt  himself  incapa 
ble  of  the  charge  of  administration  with 
out  the  aid  of  Pitt,  and  solicited  his  alli 
ance.  The  "  great  commoner,"  however, 
rejected  all  overtures  from  his  superior, 
in  wealth  and  rank,  but  by  far  his  in 
ferior  in  moral  influence.  Pitt,  conscious 
of  the  faith  of  the  British  nation  in  him, 
and  him  alone,  was  determined  to  share 
with  no  other  the  glory  of  delivering  that 
nation  from  her  agony  of  shame  and  dis 
grace. 

"Whoever  is  in  or  whoever  is  out," 
writes  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  despair  of 
his  country,  "  I  am  sure  we  are  undone, 


100 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


I  PART    1. 


both  at  home  and  abroad :  at  home,  by 
our  increasing  debt  and  expenses;  abroad, 

by  our  ill  luck  and  incapacity The 

French  are  masters  to  do  what  they  please 
in  America.  We  are  no  longer  a  nation. 
I  never  yet  saw  so  dreadful  a  prospect." 
The  British  people,  however,  still  had  a 
hope  :  that  hope  was  William  Pitt.  The 
lords  were  in  despair,  and  yet  resisted, 
in  their  mad  pride  of  birth,  the  aid  of  a 
commoner.  But  such  was  the  resolute 
will  of  the  nation  to  be  governed  by  Pitt, 
that  king  and  peers  were  obliged  to  yield, 
and  suffer  him  to  take  hold  of  the  helm 
and  guide  the  ship  of  state. 

With  Pitt's  administration  began  a  new 
era  for  British  arms  in  America.  His  first 
act  was  to  get  rid  of  the  incapables,  and 
to  put  the  right  men  in  the  right  place. 
The  weak  and  capriciousLoudoun,aswell 
as  the  over-cautious  and  inactive  Admi 
ral  Holborne,  were  recalled,  and  men  of 
sterner  stuff  sent  to  America  to  replace 
them.  Amherst,  the  resolutely  brave,  the 
spiritedly  active,  and  the  coolly  judicious, 
was,  in  spite  of  the  formalities  of  milita 
ry  precedence,  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
major-general,  and  given  the  command 
of  the  land-forces  destined  for  America. 
Boscawen,  a  dashing  naval  officer,  of 
known  skill  and  courage,  was  made  admi 
ral  of  the  fleet  then  off  Halifax,  in  Nova 
Scotia. 

Louisburg  was  marked  out  in  the  plan 
of  the  campaign  as  the  first  object  of  at- 
tack.  Amherst  sailed  with  a  large  arma- 
ment  on  the  19th  of  February  for 
Halifax,  but  was  delayed  in  his 
voyage  by  storms  and  unfavorable  winds, 
and  did  not  arrive  off  that  port  until  the 


Juiie  2. 


28th  of  May,  when  he  met  the  impatient 
Boscawen  coining  out,  with  all  his  ships, 
on  his  way  to  Louisburg. 

The  two  forces,  land  and  naval,  thus 
combined,  presented  a  formidable  array. 
There  floated  the  grand  fleet,  with  twen 
ty-two  ships-of-the-line,  fifteen  frigates, 
and  one  hundred  and  twenty  smaller  ves 
sels.  There  gathered  the  eleven  thou 
sand  six  hundred  troops,  mostly  British 
regulars,  with  their  battalions  of  infantry, 
their  formidable  artillery,  and  their  skil 
ful  engineers.  Amherst's  land-force  was 
divided  into  three  brigades, under  the  sev 
eral  commands  of  the  brigadier-generals 
Whitmore,  Lawrence,  and  Wolfe.  This 
effective  armament  now  sailed 
for  Cape  Breton,  and  in  a  few 
days  reached  Gabarus  bay,  within  can 
non-shot  of  Louisburg. 

There  was  one  in  this  expedition  whose 
subsequent  career  of  heroism  entitles  him 
to  more  than  a  mere  enumeration  among 
a  list  of  other  gallant  officers.  This  was 
Wolfe. 

JAMES  WOLFE  was  the  son  of  a  soldier. 
His  father  had  won  an  honorable  name 
as  an  officer  under  Marlborough.  The 
elder  Wolfe  had  sought — after  his  mar 
riage  with  a  Miss  Thompson,  the  sister 
of  the  member  of  Parliament  for  York — 
a  temporary  retreat  in  the  neighborhood 
of  that  city,  in  the  quiet  village  of  West- 
erham.  Here  his  son  was  born,  on  the 
2d  of  January,  1727,  at  the  modest  vicar 
age-house,  which  the  father  had  rented 
for  his  temporary  residence.  At  West- 
erham  the  young  Wolfe  was  sent  to  a 
good  private  school,  where  he  remained 
until  he  was  fourteen  years  of  age.  As 


COLONIAL.] 


JAMES  WOLFE. 


101 


a  boy,  he  was  spirited  and  clever,  but  not 
remarkable  for  his  devotion  to  work. 

His  father  being  now  ordered  to  join 
Lord  Cathcart's  expedition  to  Flanders, 
he  took  with  him  his  son,  although  but 
fourteen  years  of  age.  On  the  journey, 
the  lad,  who  was  always  feeble  in  health, 
fell  ill,  and  was  landed  at  Portsmouth. 
In  a  short  time,  however,  he  recovered 
his  strength,  and  rejoined  his  father  at 
the  camp,  where  he  entered  at  once  with 
youthful  ardor  upon  all  the  duties  of  a 
military  life.  A  commission  was  secured 
for  him,  and  the  boy  of  fourteen  became 
an  officer  in  a  battalion  of  marines  as 
early  as  1741.  In  another  year  he  was 
made  ensign,  and  then  fought  his  first 
battle  at  Dettingen.  In  1 743,  he  becomes 
a  lieutenant,  and  is  engaged  in  active  ser 
vice  in  Flanders.  He  next  receives  the 
command  of  a  company,  and  we  hear  of 
the  youthful  officer  fighting  under  the 
duke  of  Cumberland  at  Fontenoy,  and 
redeeming,  by  his  gallant  behavior,  in 
common  with  the  other  British  officers, 
the  misfortunes  of  that  day. 

The  young  Wolfe's  merit  was  so  obvi 
ous,  that  nothing  could  resist  his  advance 
ment,  and  he  was  rapidly  promoted.  Ev 
ery  step  he  took  in  rank  was  more  than 
justified  by  his  progress  in  the  path  of 
glory.  A  major  under  Cumberland  at 
the  battle  of  Feldt,  his  conduct  was  so 
admirable,  that  his  general-officer  loudly 
(hanked  him,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
army,  on  the  battle-field. 

Pitt,  who  was  ever  alive  to  merit,  had 
his  eye  upon  young  Wolfe,  who  plucked 
fresh  laurels  on  every  occasion.  It  was 
not  only  that  the  youthful  officer  was 


1757, 


dashingly  gallant  in  battle,  but  he  was 
remarkable  for  his  judgment,  and  the 
careful  study  of  his  art.  He  was,  more 
over,  not  purely  a  professional  routinist, 
but  possessed  of  a  general  culture,  which 
had  liberalized  and  refined  his  whole  life 
and  character. 

When  General  Sir  John  Mordaunt  and 
Admiral  Barker  were  sent  against  Eoche- 
fort,  with  a  large  force,  Pitt  chose 
Wolfe,  for  his  merit  alone,  as  the 
quartermaster-general.  The  expedition 
arrived  in  the  Basque  roads.  The  lead 
ers  were  quarrelling,  and  nothing  was  be 
ing  done.  Wolfe,  impatient  of  this  slug 
gishness,  takes  a  boat  and  lands  alone 
upon  the  shore.  He  now  quietly  walks 
into  the  enemy's  country  for  a  mile  or 
more,  observing  with  a  soldier's  eye  its 
weaknesses  and  its  strength.  He  returns 
on  board  the  admiral's  ship,  and  reports 
the  result  of  his  observations  to  the  lead 
ers  of  the  expedition.  He  urges  them  to 
land  and  begin  an  attack  on  Eochefort 
at  once,  as  there  Avas  no  obstacle  suffi 
cient  to  resist  it.  His  advice  is  scorned. 
He  now,  in  his  earnestness,  declares  that 
if  three  ships-of-war  and  five  hundred  men 
are  given  him,  he  will  carry  the  place 
himself.  His  proposition  is  rejected. 

The  expedition,  making  no  attempt  up 
on  Eochefort,  re  turned  ingloriously  home. 
Wolfe's  conduct  becoming  known  to  Pitt, 
confirmed  that  statesman  in  his  high  es 
timate  of  him.  The  public  welcomed 
him  as  the  only  hero  of  the  occasion,  and 
the  minister  elevated  him  to  the  rank  of 
colonel. 

On  the  23d  of  January,  Wolfe 

1758 
was  appointed  a  brigadier-general, 


102 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


under  Amherst,  and  now  has  arrived  off 
Louisburg,  in  command  of  one  of  the 
three  divisions  of  the  large  force  about 
to  attack  that  citadel. 

It  was  hoped  to  take  Louisburg  by 
surprise.  Arriving  before  the  break  of 
day,  Amherst  gave  orders  that  not  a  light 
should  be  shown,  and  no  noise  be  made, 
in  order  that  the  transports  might  work 
their  way  silently  into  the  harbor,  and 
the  troops  be  landed  so  suddenly  as  to 
come  upon  the  garrison  unexpectedly. 
As  the  morning  broke,  however,  a  thick 
fog  shrouded  the  land  so  completely,  that 
it  was  impossible  to  attempt  to  disembark 
the  troops.  As  the  day  advanced,  the  fog 
dispersed ;  but  a  strong  wind  then  began 
to  blow,  bringing  in  with  it  from  the  At 
lantic  a  great  swell,  which  broke  in  such 
a  high  surf  upon  the  shores  of  the  bay, 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  a  small 
boat  to  ride  through  it  in  safety  to  the 
land.  The  general,  however,  in  the  com 
pany  of  Wolfe  and  another  officer,  ven 
tured  to  approach  the  shore  during  the 
night,  for  the  purpose  of  reconnoitring, 
and  saw  that  the  French  had  been  very 
busy  in  adding  to  the  defences,  by  out 
works  and  posts,  which  greatly  increased 
the  risks  of  landing. 

For  a  week  the  Atlantic  continued  to 
pour  in  its  great  waves,  so  as  to  cause 
such  a  swell  in  the  harbor,  and  dash  such 
a  surge  upon  the  beach,  that  110  attempt 
was  made  during  that  whole  time  to  land. 
On  the  eighth  day,  however,  the  sea  went 
down,  but  still  leaving  a  dangerous  surf. 
A  naval  officer  having  made  a  prelimi 
nary  survey,  and  reported  a  favorable 
place  for  disembarking,  the  troops  were 


ordered  out  before  daybreak  into  the 
boats,  to  prepare  for  the  attempt.  There 
were  three  divisions.  The  right  and  cen 
tre  were  under  the  commands  of  Whitr 
more  and  Lawrence.  Wolfe  led  the  left 
at  the  head  of  his  grenadiers,  five  hundred 
infantry,  and  a  company  of  provincial 
rangers.  He  was  the  first  to  approach 
the  shore.  The  French  gathered  in  large 
force  to  oppose  the  landing,  but  withheld 
their  fire  until  their  enemy  came  close  in ; 
and,  as  the  boats  rose  in  the  white  crests 
of  the  surf,  as  it  curled  up  from  the  shore, 
they  began  a  near  and  murderous  fire :  the 
English  suffered  greatly,  but,  retaining 
their  coolness,  and  not  returning  a  shot, 
vigorously  drove  their  boats  through  the 
surf,  into  the  very  mouths  of  the  French 
muskets.  Wolfe  now  succeeded  in  land 
ing  his  troops,  and  began  an  onslaught 
which  soon  drove  the  enemy  in  disorder 
from  their  outworks,  to  the  very  walls 
of  the  city.  The  pursuit  was  continued 
with  great  slaughter,  until  checked  by  the 
cannon  of  the  citadel,  when  Wolfe  retired 
to  a  position  near  where  he  had  landed, 
bringing  back  with  him  seventy  prison 
ers.  The  other  divisions  had  succeeded 
also  in  landing,  but  not  until  they  had 
lost  a  hundred  boats,  and  a  large  number 
of  men,  from  the  violence  of  the  sea. 

Another  severe  storm  coming  on,  the 
artillery  was  not  brought  on  shore  for 
two  or  three  days.  This  postponed  the 
siege,  which,  however,  was  soon  com 
menced  in  good  earnest.  The  guns  in 
position  and  the  intrenchments  dug,  the 
bombardment  began.  Day  and  night  the 
English  poured  from  their  batteries  on 
land,  and  their  ships  in  the  bay,  such  a 


COLONIAL.] 


SURRENDER  OF  LOUISBURG. 


tempest  of  balls,  bombshells,  and  red-hot 
shot,  that  finally,  the  citadel  having  been 
on  fire,  the  barracks  burnt  to  the  ground, 
and  the  walls  so  crumbled  and  brought 
so  close  within  the  approaching  land-batr 
teries,  that  the  enemy  were  unable  to 
stand  to  their  guns  ;  and  the  French  com 
mander  was  forced,  after  a  spirited  resist> 
ance,  which  was  prolonged  for  several 
weeks,  to  make  an  unconditional  surren 
der. 

The  shipping  of  the  harbor,  and  a  fine 
French  fleet  at  anchor  in  the  bay,  were 
almost  annihilated.  Two  of  the  vessels- 
of-war,  toward  the  close  of  the  siege,  still 
remained  secure ;  when  a  volunteer  par 
ty,  in  a  number  of  small  boats,  moved 
into  the  harbor,  in  spite  of  a  hot  fire  kept 
up  by  the  enemy,  and,  boarding  the  sur 
viving  ships,  gallantly  took  them.  With 
this  volunteer  party  was  Cook,  then  a 
petty  officer  on  a  British  ship-of-war,  af 
terward  the  famous  Captain  Cook,  who 
sailed  round  the  world. 

The  victory  was  a  great  one.  England 
rejoiced  at  it,  and  did  honor  to  the  gal 
lantry  of  her  soldiers.  The  French  flags 
were  hung,  with  solemn  ceremonies,  on 
the  walls  of  St.  Paul's  cathedral ;  and 
thanks  and  honors  were  decreed  by  Par 
liament  to  the  brave  officers  and  soldiers 
who  had  so  valiantly  won  a  victory  in 
their  country's  cause.  Wolfe,  having  per 
formed  a  painful  duty  in  expelling  a  rem 
nant  of  Acadians,  still  in  Nova  Scotia, 
from  their  homes,  was  attacked  with  a 
severe  illness,  and  was  obliged  to  return 
to  England.  On  his  arrival  there,  his  first 
act  was  to  address  a  letter  to  Mr.  Pitt,  in 
which  he  modestly  but  spiritedly  offered 


103 

his  services  for  the  ensuing  campaign  in 
America. 

The  British  government,  under  the  ad 
ministration  of  Pitt,  had  expressed  its  res 
olution  to  redeem,  at  every  hazard,  the 
disasters  which  had  sullied  English  fame 
in  the  North  and  West.  England  voted 
men,  arms,  ammunition,  provisions,  and 
all  that  was  necessary  for  a  campaign; 
and  for  the  first  time,  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  able  Pitt,  bestowed  upon  provin 
cial  officers  the  rank  and  pay  of  regulars. 
The  American  colonies  sympathized  with 
these  liberal  measures  of  the  home  gov 
ernment,  and  raised  a  large  force  of  pro 
vincial  militia :  seven  thousand  men  came 
from  Massachusetts,  five  thousand  from 
Connecticut,  nine  hundred  from  New 
Hampshire,  and  large  numbers  from 
Rhode  Island,  New  York,  and  New  Jer 
sey,  and  gathered  together  at  Albany,  un 
der  the  command  of  Abercrombie,  who, 
since  the  departure  of  Lord  Loudoun,had 
become  command er-in-chief.  In  addition 
to  the  large  provincial  force,  amounting 
to  over  nine  thousand,  there  were  nearly 
seven  thousand  British  regulars,  well  offi 
cered  by  some  of  the  most  brilliant  of 
England's  military  chiefs,  among  whom 
was  the  young  Lord  Howe,  "  the  idol  and 
soul  of  the  army." 

This  great  force  now  set  out.    "  On  the 
fifth  day  of  July,"  says  Bancroft, 
"  the  whole  armament  of  more  than 
fifteen  thousand  men,  the  largest  body  of 
European  origin  that  had  ever  been  as 
sembled  in  America,  struck  their  tents 
at  daybreak,  and  in  nine  hundred  small 
boats  and  one  hundred  and  thirty-five 
whale-boats,  with  artillery  mounted  on 


104 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  i. 


rafts,  embarked  on  Lake  George.  The 
fleet,  bright  with  banners,  and  cheered 
by  martial  music,  moved  in  stately  pro 
cession  down  the  beautiful  lake,  beaming 
with  hope  and  pride,  though  with  no  wit- 
ness  but  the  wilderness.  They  passed 
over  the  broader  expanse  of  waters  to 
the  first  narrows ;  they  came  where  the 
mountains  step  down  to  the  water's  edge, 
and,  mantled  with  forests,  enhance  the 
picturesque  loveliness  of  the  scene ;  and, 
in  the  richest  hues  of  evening  light,  they 
halted  at  Sabbath-day  point.  Long  after 
ward,  Stark  (who  was  now  a  captain)  re 
membered  that  on  that  night,  Howe,  re 
clining  in  his  tent  on  a  bearskin,  and  bent 
on  winning  a  hero's  name,  questioned 
him  closely  as  to  the  position  of  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  the  fittest  mode  of  attack." 

At  Sabbath-day  point  they  halted  but 
a  few  hours ;  and,  while  it  was  yet  night, 
the  troops  took  to  their  boats  again,  and 
sailed  along  the  lake  until  they  reached 
the  Narrows,  where  they  arrived  at  break 
of  day.  Here  the  brave  Colonel  Brad- 
street  was  put  ashore  at  once  with  two 
thousand  men  to  reconnoitre,  who,  find 
ing  no  enemy,  were  followed  immediate 
ly  by  the  rest  of  the  forces. 

The  French  fort  of  Ticonderoga,against 
which  the  English  were  now  marching, 
was  placed  on  the  narrow  strip  of  land 
between  Lake  George  and  Lake  Cham- 
plain.  Montcalm  was  vigilant,  and,  aware 
of  the  approach  of  the  British,  had  sent 
out  a  small  force  to  the  borders  of  Lake 
George,  to  oppose  their  landing.  This 
force,  however,  observing  the  large  num 
bers  advancing,  began  to  retire  ;  but,  in 
attempting  to  return,  they  got  lost  in  the 


forests,  which  crowded  thickly  the  sur 
rounding  country.  A  small  party  of  the 
English,  under  Lord  Howe,  being  in  ad 
vance,  reconnoitring,  fell  in  with  the 
French  ;  and  a  desperate  struggle  began 
at  once,  in  the  midst  of  the  tangled  woods 
and  in  the  yielding  swamp.  The  English 
fought  gallantly,  and  the  enemy  stoutly 
resisted.  The  heroic  Howe  was  foremost 
in  the  fight,  but,  struck  early  by  a  mus 
ket-ball,  fell  instantly  dead.  The  loss  of 
their  good  and  chivalrous  young  leader 
gave  the  intensity  of  revenge  to  the  cour 
age  of  his  men,  and  they  battled  more 
desperately  than  ever  with  the  enemy ; 
but  such  was  the  obstinate  fierceness  with 
which  the  French  held  their  ground,  that 
they  did  not  yield  until  they  were  nearly 
all  exterminated,  with  but  a  single  hun 
dred  out  of  their  whole  force  of  half  a 
thousand  left ! 

The  death  of  Howe  was  so  discoura 
ging  to  the  troops  and  to  their  general, 
that  both  seemed  to  lose  heart.  Aber- 
crombie  himself  acted  almost  like  a  mad 
man.  With  no  purpose  that  was  intelli 
gible,  he  marched  his  forces  back  again 
to  the  spot  whence  they  had  come  the 
day  before,  with  the  greatest  trial  to  their 
spirit  and  endurance.  He,  however,  soon 
recovered  sufficient  courage  to  act,  but 
only  to  act  with  reckless  imprudence. 
He  marched  upon  Ticonderoga,  and,  en 
countering  the  French,  to  the  number  of 
four  thousand  or  more,  in  an  intrenched 
camp  at  Cerrillon,in  front  of  the  fort,  gave 
them  battle.  With  an  unreflecting  au- 
dacity,Abercrombie  led  his  troops  against 
the  impregnable  centre  of  the  enemy's 
position,  though  the  flanks  were  exposed, 


106 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


the  sad  experience  of  Braddock,  to  pro 
vide  against  the  trials  and  dangers  of  a 
passage  through  the  wilderness.  He  met 
with  no  reverse  until  within  about  nine 
ty  miles  of  the  fort,  when  one  of  his  too 
impulsive  Scotch  officers, while  in  advance 
to  reconnoitre  the  enemy's  position,  sound 
ed  his  bagpipes  and  challenged  the  French 
to  battle.  The  challenge  was  accepted ; 
and  the  impatient  Highlander,  with  his 
eight  hundred  kilted  followers,  was  worst 
ed,  lie  had  to  pay  for  his  rashness  by 
his  own  captivity  and  that  of  three  hun 
dred  of  his  men. 

The  Highlanders — who  were  raw  re 
cruits,  fresh  from  their  mountain-fastnes 
ses — were  constantly,  by  their  ignorance 
nnd  disregard  of  military  discipline,  get 
ting  into  all  sorts  of  serious  difficulties. 
On  one  occasion,  a  man  was  seen  coming 
out  of  the  woods,  with  his  long  hair  all 
awry,  and  his  body  wrapped  in  some  dark- 
colored  drapery.  The  sentinel  challenged 
him,  but  receiving  no  answer,  or  not  un 
derstanding  it,  shot  him  dead.  It  turned 
out  that  the  poor  fellow,  who  was  sup 
posed  to  be  a  skulking  Indian  in  a  blan 
ket,  was  no  more  than  a  raw,  unkempt, 
and  innocent  Hielander,  in  his  mountain- 
plaid,  astray  in  the  woods.  He  had  prob 
ably  answered  the  sentinel's  challenge  in 
his  native  Gaelic,  his  only  tongue ;  and 
the  Saxon  soldier  had  mistaken  it  for 
Choctaw,  or  some  other  Indian  dialect ! 

Again,  on  another  occasion,  several  of 
these  Highland  soldiers,  by  their  undis 
ciplined  habits  of  wandering,  fell  into  an 
ambush  of  Indians.  These  savages  be 
gan  their  cruel  tortures,  when  one  Allan 
Macpherson,  finding  his  turn  had  come, 


was  resolved  upon  escaping,  if  not  death, 
at  any  rate  the  lengthened  agonies  of 
savage  torture.  He  accordingly  hit  upon 
this  ingenious  expedient :  He  gave  out 
that  he  knew  the  secret  of  a  great  medi 
cine,  which,  if  applied  to  the  skin,  would 
make  it  invulnerable.  He  was  believed 
by  his  barbarous  listeners,  who  allowed 
him  to  gather  the  necessary  herbs,  with 
which  Allan  made  a  decoction,  and  ap 
plied  it  to  his  neck.  "  Strike,  now,"  he 
told  them,  "with  all  your  might,  and 
you'll  see  the  power  of  the  great  medi 
cine  !"  The  savage  raised  his  tomahawk, 
and,  bringing  it  down  with  all  the  force 
of  his  arm,  sent  poor  Allan  Macpherson's 
head  rolling  off  several  yards !  The  In 
dians  saw  the  trick,  by  which  the  shrewd 
Highlander  had  saved  himself  the  tor 
ments  of  a  lingering  death.  They  were 
so  tickled  with  Macpherson's  ingenuity, 
that  they  became  sufficiently  good-na 
tured  to  spare  his  surviving  comrades, 
not  from  death,  but  from  a  long  and  pain 
ful  journey  to  it.  Torture  wras  not  in 
flicted  upon  the  rest  of  the  victims. 

In  spite  of  the  mishap  in  which  the 
recklessness  of  his  officers  had  involved 
him,  Forbes  persevered  in  his  advance, 
and  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding,  on 
reaching  Fort  Du  Quesne,that  the  French 
had  fled.  The  British  took  possession  of 
the  deserted  fort,  with  Washington  and 
his  "  really  fine  corps"  of  Virgin 
ians  among  the  first  to  plant  the 
English  flag,  and  called  the  place  Pitts- 
burg,  in  honor  of  the  great  statesman  who 
was  now  redeeming  everywhere  the  glo 
ry  of  his  country.  Thus  ended  the  cam 
paign  of  1758. 


NOT,  25, 


pa 


COLONIAL. J 


CANADA  TO  BE  CONQUERED. 


107 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Pitt  determines  to  wrest  America  from  the  Dominion  of  France. — Expedition  to  Canada,  under  Amherst. — Its  Failure. — 
Johnson's  Success  at  Niagara. — Wolfe  appointed  to  command  the  Expedition  against  Quebec. — His  Interview  with 
Pitt — Wolfe's  Enthusiasm. — His  Better  Qualities. — Poet  and  Soldier. — Honor  and  Piety. — The  Expedition  sails. — 
The  Force. — The  Officers. — The  Voyage. — Arrival  on  the  American  Coast. — Off  Quebec. — Wolfe's  Impetuosity  of 
Temper. — Promptitude  of  Action. — Landing  of  a  Small  Detachment  on  the  Island  of  Orleans. — Audacity  stronger 
than  Numbers. — The  Whole  Force  debarked. — Wolfe's  Contemplation  of  the  Scene  of  the  Coming  Struggle. — His 
Reflections. — A  Storm,  and  an  Overshadowed  Heart. — Clear  Weather,  and  Bright  Hope. — A  Nocturnal  Incident. — A 
Fire-ship  in  the  Night. — Wolfe's  Proclamation. — A  Gentle  Nature  curdled  by  Blood. 


1759, 


THE  attention  of  England  was 
now  concentrated  upon  its  Ameri 
can  colonies.  Pitt,  encouraged  by  the 
triumphs  which  his  active  administration 
had  succeeded  in  winning,  and  cheered 
by  the  sympathies  of  the  whole  British 
nation,  resolutely  bent  all  his  energies 
toward  wresting  complete^  the 'domin 
ion  of  America  from  the  grasp  of  France. 
The  English  Parliament  seconded,  almost 
with  one  mind,  this  spirited  design  of 
their  leader,  and,  to  carry  it  out,  gener 
ously  voted  the  large  sum  of  two  hun 
dred  thousand  pounds.  The  great  object 
was,  to  conquer  Canada ;  and,  with  this 
purpose,  he  determined  to  send  three  ex 
peditions  against  those  strongholds  of 
French  power  in  America  —  Niagara, 
Montreal,  and  Quebec. 

Amherst,  who  had  been  so  successful 
at  Louisburg,  was  appointed  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  British  forces  in  America, 
and  ordered  to  advance  toward  Canada, 
by  the  northern  lakes.  He  accordingly 
marched,  with  an  immense  force,  and,  al 
though  with  much  toil,  delay,  and  occa 
sional  opposition,  succeeded  in  possessing 
nimself  of  the  two  French  forts  of  Ticon- 
deroga  and  Crown  Point,  and,  after  a  most 


unaccountable  procrastination,  sailed  at 
length  to  the  north  of  Lake  Champlain. 
The  enemy  had  feared  to  meet  the  pre 
ponderating  numbers  of  the  English  on 
their  march ;  and,  as  the  latter  came  near 
Montreal,  the  inhabitants  of  that  city,  al 
though  making  every  effort  to  prepare 
for  resistance,  were  in  a  state  of  great 
alarm.  The  English,  however,  turned 
back  again  when  within  reach  and  almost 
certain  of  victory. 

The  expedition  against  Niagara  had, 
with  the  aid  of  Johnson  and  his  Indian 
force,  been  successful,  and  that  important 
position  had  surrendered  also  to  the  Eng 
lish. 

It  was  to  Wolfe  that  Pitt  intrusted  the 
expedition  against  Quebec.  In  January, 
1759,  the  young  officer  was  gazetted  a 
major-general,  and  given  the  command- 
in-chief  of  the  troops  destined  for  Canada 
Wolfe  was  now  thirty-twro  years  of  age. 
He  is  not  described  as  being  particularly 
well-favored  in  looks.  His  frame  was 
meager,  and  indicative  of  a  feeble  const! 
tution.  His  features  were  sharp  and  an 
gular,  his  forehead  receding,  his  complex 
ion  coarse  and  freckled,  and  his  hair  red 
dish.  His  mouth,  however,  bore  a  refined 


108 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


! PAKT    I 


and  gentle  expression,  while  his  large 
blue  eyes  beamed  with  intelligence  and 
a  sweet  sensibility.  His  manner  was  not 
particularly  engaging  to  strangers,  but  all 
who  knew  him  well  loved  him  well.  He 
was  frank  and  sincere.  Warm  in  his  af 
fections,  and  of  a  loving  nature,  he  clung 
to  his  parents,  and  particularly  to  his 
mother,  writh  the  devotion  of  a  pure  and 
fond  heart.  He  was  naturally  domestic 
in  his  tastes,  notwithstanding  his  military 
life,  and  in  writing  to  his  mother  he  says 
of  himself:  "  I  have  a  turn  of  mind  that 
favors  matrimony  prodigiously;  I  love 
children,  and  think  them  necessary  to 
people  in  their  later  days." 

He  became  enamored  of  a  beautiful 
woman  at  an  early  age,  but  his  love  was 
not  at  first  returned.  Persisting,  howev 
er,  in  his  suit,  he  was  finally  accepted  by 
Miss  Lowther,  a  celebrated  beauty  (sub 
sequently  the  duchess  of  Bolton),  whom 
he  was  to  marry  on  his  return  from  the 
Canadian  expedition.  He  gave  his  be 
trothed,  on  his  last  farewell,  a  necklace 
of  pearls.  She  wore  it  ever  after,  but,  in 
a  few  months,  always  wrapped  in  Mack 
velvet. 

Wolfe  was  excitable  in  manner,  and 
somewhat  impetuous  in  temper.  His  na 
ture  was  an  enthusiastic  one,  and  he  pur 
sued  with  ardor  whatever  touched  his 
heart.  His  warmth  occasionally  caused 
those,  who  did  not  know  him  well,  to 
doubt  his  discretion.  A  day  or  two  after 
he  had  received  his  command,  he  dined 
with  Pitt.  After  dinner,  the  subject  of 
his  expedition  to  Quebec  naturally  com 
ing  up,  Wolfe  became  so  excited,  that  he 
sprang  from  his  seat,  strode  about  the 


room,  flourishing  his  sword,  and  spoke  of 
what  he  would  do  in  such  a  boastful  man 
ner,  that  Pitt  was  said  to  have  been  fright 
ened  for  a  moment  at  having  intrusted 
to  apparently  such  a  frivolous  character 
so  weighty  a  matter  as  the  fate  of  na 
tions. 

Wolfe's  mercurial  temper  was,  howev 
er,  balanced  by  a  strong  and  well-culti 
vated  intellect.  He  was  fond  of  study, 
and,  by  diligent  application,  though  most 
of  his  life  had  been  spent  in  the  camp, 
had  become  no  mean  scholar.  He  wrote 
both  prose  and  verse  with  facility.  That 
famous  camp-song  is  his  which  still  echoes 
in  every  tent  where  the  British  soldier  is 
serving  his  country: — 

"  How  stands  the  glass  around  ? 
For  shame  !  ye  take  no  care,  my  boys, 

How  stands  the  glass  around  ? 

Let  mirtli  and  wine  abound, 

The  trumpets  sound, 
The  colors  they  are  flying,  boys : 

To  fight,  kill,  or  wound, 

May  we  still  be  found 
Content  with  our  hard  fate,  my  boys, 

On  the  cold  ground  ! 

"  Why,  soldiers,  why, 
Should  we  be  melancholy,  boys  ? 

Why,  soldiers,  why  ? 

Whose  business  'tis  to  die  ! 

What,  sighing  ?  fie  ! 
Do  n't  fear,  drink  on  ;  be  jolly,  boys  ! 

'Tis  he,  you,  or  I ! 

Cold,  hot,  wet,  or  dry, 
We're  always  bound  to  follow,  boys, 

And  scorn  to  fly  ! 

"'Tis  but  in  vain  — 
I  mean  not  to  upbraid  you,  boys  — 
'T  is  but  in  vain 
For  soldiers  to  complain: 
Should  next  campaign 


COLONIAL.] 


THE  MAD  WOLFE. 


109 


Send  us  to  HIM  who  made  us,  boys, 

We  're  free  from  pain  ! 

But,  if  we  remain, 
A  bottle  and  a  kind  landlady 

Cure  all  again !" 

Wolfe's  affectionate  and  domestic  na 
ture,  in  sympathy  with  the  devotional 
sentiment  of  his  pious  mother,  whom  he 
so  strongly  loved,  was  religiously  dis 
posed.  He  had  even  the  reputation  of 
being  fanatical.  A  courtier  remonstrated 
with  the  king  on  the  appointment  of 
Wolfe,  saying,  "  He  is  mad"  (meaning  by 
"mad,"  over-religious).  "If  he  be  mad," 
replied  the  sovereign,  "  I  wish  he  would 
bite  some  of  my  other  generals  !"  Wolfe 
tells  his  mother,  in  a  letter  from  Scot 
land  :  "  I  have  observed  your  instructions 
so  rigidly,  that,  rather  than  want  the 
word,  I  got  the  reputation  of  being  a 
very  good  Presbyterian,  by  frequenting 
the  kirk  of  Scotland  till  our  chapel 
opens." 

On  the  14th  of  February,  the 
British  land-forces,  under  Wolfe, 
sailed  for  America.  The  transports  which 
bore  them  were  convoyed  by  a  large 
English  squadron,  commanded  by  Saun- 
ders,  "  that  admiral  who  was  a  pattern 
of  most  sturdy  bravery  united  with  the 
most  unaffected  modesty.  No  man  said 
less  or  deserved  more.  Simplicity  in  his 
manners,  generosity,  and  good  nature, 
adorned  his  genuine  love  of  his  coun 
try."  On  the  21st  of  April,  the  whole 
armament  arrived  off  Cape  Breton,  but 
could  not  enter  the  harbor  of  Louisburg, 
as  was  originally  intended,  in  consequence 
of  the  large  quantity  of  floating  ice.  They 
set  sail  for  Halifax,  in  Nova  Scotia,  and 


1759, 


anchored  in  that  port.  Here  were  now 
gathered  a  magnificent  fleet  of  twenty 
two  ships-of-the-line,  five  frigates,  nine 
teen  smaller  vessels,  and  a  crowd  of  trans 
ports,  under  the  flag  of  Admiral  Saunders. 
General  Wolfe  mustered  eight  thousand 
troops  under  his  command.  A  detach 
ment  of  artillery  and  engineers,  ten  bat 
talions  of  infantry,  and  six  companies 
of  rangers,  made  up  the  whole  force, 
which,  however,  was  afterward  increased 
by  the  addition  of  several  companies  from 
the  garrison  at  Cape  Breton,  and  which 
formed  what  was  called  the  corps  of  Lou 
isburg  grenadiers. 

"  On  board  one  of  the  ships,"  says  Ban 
croft,  "  was  Jervis,  afterward  Earl  St.  Vin 
cent;  another  which  followed  bore  as  mas 
ter  James  Cook,  the  navigator  who  was 
destined  to  explore  and  reveal  the  un 
known  paths  and  thousand  isles  of  the 
Pacific.  The  brigades  had  for  their  com 
manders  the  brave,  open-hearted,  and  lib 
eral  Robert  Monckton,  afterward  govern 
or  of  New  York  and  conqueror  of  Mar- 
tinico  ;  George  Townshend,  elder  brother 
of  Charles  Townshend,  soon  to  succeed 
his  father  in  the  peerage,  and  become 
known  as  a  legislator  for  America,  a  man 
of  quick  perception  but  unsafe  judgment; 
and  the  rash  and  inconsiderate  Murray. 
For  his  adjutant-general  Wolfe  selected 
Isaac  Barre,  an  old  associate  at  Louis- 
burg  ;  an  Irishman  of  humble  birth,  elo 
quent,  ambitious,  and  fearless.  The  gren 
adiers  of  the  army  were  formed  into  a 
corps,  commanded  by  Colonel  Guy  Carle- 
ton.  A  detachment  of  light  infantry 
were  to  receive  orders  from  Lieutenant- 
Colonel,  afterward  Sir  William*  Howe." 


llu 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PART    1 


The  ice  having  cleared,  Admiral  Saun- 
ders  bore  away  for  Louisburg.  He  de 
tached  from  his  fleet,  however,  a  small 
squadron,  under  Admiral  Darrell,to  inter 
cept  the  French  vessels  which  were  said 
to  be  making;  their  wav  to  the  St.  Law- 

O  «/ 

rence,  in  order  to  carry  relief  to  Quebec. 
On  the  arrival  of  the  ships  and  troops  in 
the  harbor  of  Louisburg,  the  two  com 
manders  (Saunders  and  Wolfe)  counselled 
together  in  regard  to  the  plans  of  the 
proposed  attack  on  Quebec ;  and  orders 
were  soon  after  issued  to  all  the  vessels, 
in  case  of  separation,  to  make  Gaspe  bay, 
in  the  gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  the  first,  and 
the  island  of  Bic,  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  iip  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  the  sec 
ond  rendezvous. 

All  the  forces,  land  and  sea,  were  in  a 
state  of  high  confidence,  and  impatient 
for  action.  They  were  just  ready  to  start, 
when  bad  news  arrived.  Darrell  had  lost 
his  chance  at  the  French  squadron,  which 
had  given  him  the  slip  and  sailed  up  the 
St.  Lawrence.  This,  however  disappoint 
ing,  did  not  bate  a  jot  of  the  confident 
enthusiasm  which  filled  the  heart  of  ev 
ery  British  soldier  and  sailor.  On  the 
6th  of  June,  as  the  splendid  fleet  cleared 
the  dismal,  snow-covered  shores  of  Cape 
Breton,  the  troops  drew  up  on  the  decks, 
and  the  crews  manned  the  yards  of  each 
vessel,  from  the  proudest  ship-of-the-line 
to  the  humblest  tender,  and  gave  one 
shout  of  joyful  hope  of  soon  meeting  the 
enemy.  There  was  victory  in  the  full 
sound  of  this  burst  of  confident  enthusi 
asm.  The  men  relied  upon  their  own 
strength  and  courage,  and  trusted  in  the 
skill  of  their  leaders.  Each  tar  knew 


Saunders  to  be  every  inch  a  sailor.  No 
soldier  doubted  the  courage  and  ability 
of  young  Wolfe.  Affection,  too,  warmed 
the  faith  of  every  follower  into  devotion 
to  his  leaders.  Saunders,  and  more  espe 
cially  Wolfe,  were  beloved  b}^  their  men. 

With  fine  weather  and  favorable  winds 
the  fleet  moved  on  gallantly  past  New 
foundland,  in  its  mantle  of  snow ;  along 
the  Bird  islands,  with  a  "  ten-knot  breeze ;" 
and,  on  the  llth  of  June,  came  up  with 
the  Gaspe  headland.  One  frigate,  how 
ever,  had  pushed  on  ahead. the  Richmond, 
which  bore  the  impatient  Wolfe,  and  which 
with  his  eagerness  to  be  foremost  he  had 
selected  as  the  fastest  in  the  fleet.  On 
the  13th  of  June,  the  dangers  of  the  island 
of  Anticosti,  lying  threateningly  at  the 
mouth  of  the  gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  were 
safely  passed ;  and,  on  the  18th,  the  fleet 
came  to  anchor  not  far  from  the  island 
of  Bic.  At  this  point,  although  the  ships 
had  "  kept  well  together,"  the  Richmond, 
with  Wolfe  aboard,  had  already  arrived-, 
having  been  to  this  moment  far  in  ad 
vance  of  all  the  rest. 

The  fleet  moved  on  again  the  next  day. 
There  was  a  calm  off  the  mouth  of  the 
Saguenay,  where  there  was  some  danger 
of  wreck  to  the  small  vessels  from  the 
current-drifts,  but  from  which  they  were 
fortunately  relieved  by  the  evening  wind 
blowing  off  the  land ;  there  was  a  cap 
ture  of  a  French  vessel,  with  a  distin 
guished  lady  belonging  to  the  family  of 
the  marquis  de  Vaudreuil,  governor  of 
Canada,  and  some  nuns,  all  of  whom  were 
most  courteously  treated,  and  sent  to 
Quebec ;  and  nothing  more  of  incident 
until  the  whole  fleet  came  to  anchor  in 


COLONIAL.] 


WOLFE  BEHOLDS  QUEBEC. 


Ill 


the  evening  of  the  23d  of  June,  off  the 
village  of  St.  Joseph.  Here  there  was  a 
slight  brush  with  the  enemy.  Some  sur- 
v;ey-boats  were  shot  at  by  the  inhabitants, 
and  the  English  took  summary  revenge 
with  a  company  of  grenadiers,  who,  with 
lire  and  slaughter,  laid  waste  the  Cana 
dian  hamlet. 

On  the  26th  of  June,  the  whole  fleet 
of  men-of-war  and  transports  anchored  off 
the  island  of  Orleans,  from  which  could 
be  distinctly  seen  the  lofty  cliffs  of  jag 
ged  slate  on  which  QUEBEC  stood,  with  its 
citadel  grimly  defiant.  Wolfe's  love  of 
action — for,  although  judicious,  he  was 
impetuously  prompt — would  not  allow 
him  to  waste  a  moment.  He  ordered  his 
troops  at  once  to  make  ready  to  land ; 
and  on  the  very  first  night  he  sent  a  small 
reconnoitring  force  of  forty  rangers,  un 
der  the  command  of  a  lieutenant,  to  make 
their  way  silently  to  the  island,  and  gain 
what  intelligence  they  could.  The  ran 
gers  landed  cautiously  and  without  ob 
servation,  but,  in  groping  their  way  qui 
etly  over  the  ground,  came  suddenly 
upon  a  large  number  of  the  inhabitants, 
busily  engaged  in  burying  in  the  earth 
their  valuables,  to  secure  them  against 
the  invaders.  The  British  officer  looked 
somewhat  aghast  at  the  overpowering 
crowd,  but,  finding  that  his  only  safety 
was  in  audacity,  boldly  confronted  them, 
and  began  at  once  an  onslaught.  The 
Canadians  struggled  manfully  for  awhile, 
but,  fearful  of  a  larger  body  of  the  ene 
my  in  reserve,  soon  gave  way  and  fled. 

The  English  were  too  glad  at  their 
happy  escape,  to  risk  anything  by  pur 
suit,  and,  quietly  making  their  way  to  a 


neighboring  farmhouse,  rested  there  un 
til  the  next  morning.  During  the  night 
all  the  inhabitants  made  their  escape, 
leaving  the  island  in  possession  of  the 
lieutenant  and  his  twoscore  of  rangers. 
They  were,  however,  soon  joined  by  the 
whole  of  Wolfe's  troops,  who  landed  early 
in  the  day.  The  boats  had  made  for  a 
cove,  and  the  men  landed  on  a  spot  near 
a  church,  on  the  walls  of  which  the  priest 
had  reverently  inscribed  an  appeal  "  to 
the  worthy  officers  of  the  British  army," 
invoking  them  to  spare  the  holy  edifice 
and  its  sacred  altars.  The  church  was 
spared. 

While  the  men  encamped  on  the  beau 
tiful  island,  and,  when  off  duty,  lingered 
with  delight  over  its  fertile  fields  and  rich 
gardens,  all  in  the  freshness  and  bloom 
of  early  summer,  their  anxious  command 
er  was  thoughtful  only  of  duty.  His  first 
impulse  was  to  make  his  way,  in  compa 
ny  with  the  chief-engineer  and  an  escort, 
to  the  farthest  west  of  the  island,  that  he 
might  look  upon  the  scene  of  the  great 
work  in  which  his  whole  mind  was  now 
absorbed. 

"A  magnificent  but  disheartening  scene 
lay  before  him,"  says  Warburton.  "  On 
the  summit  of  the  highest  eminence,  over 
the  strait  in  the  great  river  from  whence 
the  basin  before  him  opened,  the  French 
flag  waved.  The  crest  of  the  rocky  height 
was  crowned  with  formidable  works,  re 
doubted  and  flanked.  On  every  favora 
ble  spot,  above,  below,  or  on  the  rugged 
ascent,  were  batteries  bristling  with  guns. 
This  stronghold  formed  the  right  flank 
of  a  position  eight  miles  in  extent ;  the 
falls  and  the  deep  and  rapid  stream  of 


112 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


the  Montmorenci  was  the  left.  The 
shoals  and  rocks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  pro 
tected  the  broad  front ;  and  the  rich  val 
ley  of  the  St.  Charles,  with  the  prosper 
ous  and  beautiful  villages  of  Charlesburg 
and  Beauport,  gave  shelter  and  hospitali 
ty  in  the  rear.  A  crested  bank  of  some 
height  over  the  great  river  marked  the 
main  line  of  the  defences  from  east  to 
west ;  parapets,  flanked  at  every  favora 
ble  spot,  aided  their  natural  strength. 
Crowded  on  the  embattled  bank,  swarm 
ing  in  the  irregular  village-streets,  and 
formed  in  masses  on  the  hills  beyond, 
were  twelve  thousand  French  and  Cana 
dian  troops,  led*  by  the  gallant  Mont- 
calm." 

Wolfe  looked  on  with  momentary  feel 
ings  of  despair ;  and,  as  he  gazed,  ponder 
ing  upon  the  undertaking  which  loomed 
in  such  immensity  before  his  imagination, 
there  came  up  a  heavy  cloud,  which  had 
gathered  over  the  city,  and  now  burst  in 
a  violent  storm  over  his  head.  The  hur 
ricane  blew  with  great  fury ;  and,  as  the 
lightning  flashed,  the  terrible  effects  of 
the  raging  wind  were  visible.  The  fleet 
of  vessels  were  in  a  state  of  great  com 
motion,  being  thrown  about  almost  at  the 
mercy  of  the  agitated  waters.  The  iron 
chains  which  moored  the  transports  were 
rent  in  twain  as  if  they  had  been  of  straw; 
the  small  boats  were  reft  from  their  moor 
ings,  and  dashed  in  useless  wrecks  upon 
the  shore  ;  and  the  great  ships-of-the-line 
could  hardly  hold  to  their  heavy  anchors. 

Wolfe,  almost  overwhelmed  with  what 
appeared  to  be  an  omen  of  fatal  disaster 
to  his  great  enterprise,  turned  away  from 
the  melancholy  scene  in  deep  thought, 


full  of  sad  presage  for  the  future.  His 
mind,  however,  soon  turned  in  retrospect 
to  the  land  he  had  left,  and  to  that  coun 
try  which  had  intrusted  him  with  the 
guardianship  of  its  glory. 

Other  feelings  now  stirred  his  heroic 
soul ;  despair  and  irresolution  gave  way 
to  hope  and  firmness.  He  had  promised 
that  "no  dangers  or  difficulties  should 
discourage  him,"  and  he  now  determined 
that  none  should.  As  the  calm  self-reli 
ance  which  belongs  to  genius  settled  up 
on  his  mind,  and  all  the  disordered  fan 
cies  which  had  momentarily  vexed  his 
thoughts  were  scattered,  Nature,  as  if  in 
sympathy  with  the  noble  Wolfe,  became 
also  lulled  to  quiet.  The  storm  passed 
suddenly  away ;  and,  as  night  darkened, 
all  was  in  repose,  with  but  a  star  here 
and  there  gently  twinkling  a  faint  light. 

The  British  soldiers  now  encamped, 
and  all  soon  were  sleeping  on  their  arms, 
except  the  watchful  sentinels  who  passed 
to  and  fro  along  the  shore.  As  the  night 
advanced,  the  darkness  deepened,  and 
the  quiet  became  more  still.  Nothing 
was  heard  but  the  ripple  of  the  water, 
and  nothing  seen  but  the  waving  glim 
mer  of  scarcely  a  star,  here  and  there,  in 
the  slight  surf  -where  the  waves  beat  at 
the  feet  of  the  sentinels.  Some  dark  ob 
jects  appear  suddenly,  however, like  black 
clouds,  floating  on  the  surface  of  the  riv 
er.  Those  on  the  watch  are  bewildered 
as  they  look  upon  the  strange  phenome 
non,  and  exchange  whispering  words  of 
surprise  and  doubt.  In  a  moment,  before 
the  sentinels  have  decided  to  arouse  the 
drowsy  camp,  there  burst  from  those  dark 
objects,  which  had  now  floated,  with  the 


COLONIAL.] 


A  PANIC. 


113 


tide,  into  the  neighborhood  of  the  an 
chored  fleet,  a  terrible  volley  of  hissing 
bombs.,  rattling  muskets,  and  booming 
cannon.  Louder  and  more  frequent  was 
heard  the  noisy  cannonade ;  nearer  and 
nearer  approached  the  dreaded  objects. 
Now,  in  an  instant,  when  almost  within 
reach  of  the  English  fleet,  the  mystery 
was  revealed  by  one  burst  of  lurid  light. 
The  sentries  did  not  pause  to  look,  where 
all  was  now  as  bright  as  noonday,  but 
turned  and  fled  in  fright  toward  the  camp, 
arousing  every  soldier  in  confused  alarm. 
The  whole  army  was  panic-stricken,  and 
each  affrighted  man  wandered  about,  lost 
in  bewilderment,  and  regardless  of  disci 
pline  and  order. 

Some  officers,  more  cool  than  their 
comrades,  hurried  to  the  farthest  extrem 
ity  of  the  island  looking  toward  Quebec. 
Here,  in  the  blaze  of  light,  which  threw 
its  bright  glare  over  the  whole  scene, 
they  could  see  that  the  cause  of  the  com 
motion  was  the  appearance  of  a  number 
of  fire-ships,  which  the  enemy  had  sent 
down  to  destroy  the  English  fleet.  The 
contrivance  had  failed,  for  the  "  diaboli 
cal  machines"  had  blazed  prematurely, 
and  thus  failed  of  their  intended  effect. 
Admiral  Saunders  had  coolly,  but  with 
bated  breath,  watched  the  threatening 
approach ;  and  when  he  saw  that  the  fire- 
ships,  from  the  premature  discharge  of 
their  explosives,  had  been  deprived  of 
their  chief  means  of  injury,  he  coolly  or 
dered  out  boats  to  grapple  with  them, 
and  tow  them  far  out  of  reach  of  harm 
to  his  fleet. 

Order  in  the  course  of  the  night  was 
restored  to  the  camp  on  the  island  of  Or- 
15 


leans.  Next  day,  before  commencing  a 
systematic  attack,  Wolfe  sent  forth  to  the 
inhabitants  of  Canada  this  proclamation 

"WE  HAVE  A  POWERFUL  ARMAMENT.  W 
ARE  SENT  BY  THE  ENGLISH  KING  TO  CONQUER 
THIS  PROVINCE,  BUT  NOT  TO  MAKE  WAR  UPON 
WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN,  THE  MINISTERS  OF  RELI 
GION,  OR  INDUSTRIOUS  PEASANTS.  WE  LAMENT 
THE  SUFFERINGS  WHICH  OUR  INVASION  MAY  IN 
FLICT  UPON  YOU  ;  BUT,  IF  YOU  REMAIN  NEUTER, 
WE  PROFFER  YOU  SAFETY  IN  PERSON  AND  PROP 
ERTY,  AND  FREEDOM  IN  RELIGION.  WE  ARE 

MASTERS  OF  THE  RIVER  :  NO  SUCCOR  CAN  REACH 
YOU  FROM  FRANCE.  GENERAL  AMHERST,  WITH 
A  LARGE  ARMY,  ASSAILS  YOUR  SOUTHERN  FRON 
TIER.  YOUR  CAUSE  IS  HOPELESS,  YOUR  VALOR 
USELESS.  YOUR  NATION  HAVE  BEEN  GUILTY  OF 
GREAT  CRUELTIES  TO  OUR  UNPROTECTED  SET 
TLERS  ;  BUT  WE  SEEK  NOT  REVENGE  :  WE  OFFER 
YOU  THE  SWEETS  OF  PEACE  AMID  THE  HORRORS 
OF  WAR.  ENGLAND,  IN  HER  STRENGTH,  WILL 
BEFRIEND  YOU  :  FRANCE,  IN  HER  WEAKNESS, 
LEAVES  YOU  TO  YOUR  FATE." 

This  was  a  clever  production,  undoubt 
edly  from  Wolfe's  own  pen.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  judiciously  word 
ed  ;  but  its  author  hardly  expected  any 
other  effect  from  it  than  it  produced.  It 
was  more  for  the  purpose,  as  is  usual  with 
military  conquerors,  to  give  a  coloring  of 
right  and  a  tone  of  confidence  to  his  new 
enterprise,  than  to  persuade  those  to 
whom  it  was  addressed  to  forsake  their 
own  country  in  its  adversity,  and  to  em 
brace  with  affection  that  country's  bitter 
est  enemy.  The  proclamation  was  met, 
on  the  side  of  the  French,  by  an  earnest 
appeal  to  the  Canadians  from  their  priests, 
to  fight  for  their  faith,  against  the  heretic 


114 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


English ;    and  counter-manifestoes  from 

O  / 

the  fierce  Montcalm,  containing  some  ter 
rible  threats  against  traitors. 

The  Canadians,  of  course,  remained 
faithful  to  their  country,  and  proved  their 
devotion  by  liberal  contributions  of  men 
and  means  to  the  cause.  More  than  this  : 
they  became  so  ferocious  in  their  enmity, 
that  they  joined  with  the  Indians  in  in 
flicting  savage  cruelties  upon  all  the  Eng 
lish  who  fell  into  their  hands.  Wolfe  ap 
pealed  to  the  humanity  of  Montcalm,  to 
stop  these  atrocities ;  but  the  French  gen 


eral  could  not,  or  would  not.  The  almost 
feminine  sensibility  of  the  brave  and  hu 
mane  Wolfe  was  so  far  worked  into  a  fer 
mentation  of  cruel  anger  by  the  result 
of  his  appeal  to  the  humanity  of  Mont- 
calm,  that  he  issued  this  order: — 

"THE  GENERAL  STRICTLY  FORBIDS  THE  IN 
HUMAN  PRACTICE  OF  SCALPING,  except  WHERE 

THE  ENEMY  ARE  INDIANS  OR  CANADIANS  DRESSED 
LIKE  INDIANS." 

Such  is  war,  that  even  the  gentlest 
spirit  is  curdled  into  cruel  rage  by  its 
touch  of  blood ! 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

The  British  Fleet  draws  nigh  Quebec. — Point  Levi  taken. — De  Vaudreuil  and  Montcalm  quarrel. — The  French  strive  ii 
drive  away  the  British  Fleet. — Quebec  not  yet  taken. — Wolfe's  First  Manoeuvres. — The  British  Rangers  in  the  Forest. — 
Pursued  by  the  Savages. — The  Murder  of  the  Innocents. — Failure  of  Wolfe  on  the  Montmorenci. — De  Chassier'a 
Night-Attack. — Its  Catastrophe. — Admiral  Holmes  moves  his  Ships  farther  up  the  St.  Lawrence. — Consternation  of 
the  French. — Wolfe  takes  a  Survey,  and  does  not  admire  the  Prospect  of  the  Heights  of  Quebec. — Wolfe's  Second 
Attempt  and  Failure. — A  Touching  Incident. — Ochterlony  and  Peyton,  the  Two  Friends. — Escape  from  the  Savages 
— Death  of  Ochterlony,  and  Safety  of  Peyton. — Wolfe  unsuccessful,  but  not  despondent. — News  from  Johnson  and 
Amherst,  and  its  Effect. — Wolfe's  Illness. — The  General  commands,  and  forms  Plans,  on  his  Sick-Bed. — A  French 
Priest  arouses  his  Flock  to  Action. — Mutual  Barbarity. 


1759, 


ADMIRAL  SAUNDERS,  made  aware 
by  the  effects  of  the  storm,  from 
which  his  ships  had  so  greatly  suffered, 
of  their  insecurity,  was  now  anxious  to 
move  them  from  the  channel  between 
the  island  of  Orleans  and  the  south  shore, 
where  they  were  moored,  to  the  safer  an 
chorage  of  the  "  Basin,"  facing  the  city. 
Point  Levi,  however,  which  commanded 
the  place  to  which  he  proposed  to  take 
the  fleet,  was  held  by  the  enemy,  with  a 
considerable  force  of  artillery,  by  which 
they  could  keep  up  an  annoying  fire. 
Monckton  was  accordingly  ordered  by 


Wolfe  to  pass  over  from  the  island  of 
Orleans  with  his  brigade,  and  drive  away 
the  French  from  the  point.  After  some 
difficulty,  and  two  or  three  repulses, 
Monckton  finally  succeeded  in  his  object, 
and  the  village  of  Levi  fell  into  his  pos 
session.  The  Canadian  troops  and  Indi 
ans  were  forced  to  fly,  and,  crossing  the 
St.  Lawrence,  took  refuge  within  the 
walls  of  Quebec. 

The  loss  of  Point  Levi  was  severely 
felt  by  Montcalm,  who  had,  with  his  usual 
judgment,  early  discovered  the  impor 
tance  of  the  position,  and  had  strongly 


COLONIAL. J 


CAPTURE  OF  POINT  LEVI. 


urged  upon  the  marquis  de  Vaudreuil 
the  necessity  of  so  strengthening  it  as  to 
resist  any  attempt  of  the  English.  The 
governor  had,  however,  obstinately  ob 
jected  ;  and  when  the  result  that  Montr 
calm  had  feared  occurred,  and  the  town 
of  Levi  was  taken  by  his  enemy,  he  was 
so  vexed,  that  he  never  forgave  De  Vau 
dreuil.  From  that  time,  the  two  were 
no  longer  friends.  This  quarrel  fatally 
interfered  with  the  success  of  the  French 
arms. 

The  English,  once  in  possession  of  Point 
Levi,  began  to  fortify  it  with  batteries, 
placed  upon  various  elevations  which 
commanded  Quebec ;  and  were  able,  al 
though  the  distance  across  the  river  was 
three  quarters  cf  a  mile,  to  throw  a  dam 
aging  fire  upon  the  city.  The  French 
for  awhile  made  a  useless  effort  to  dis 
lodge  Monckton's  force,  by  means  of  float 
ing  batteries  moored  in  the  river;  but 
they  were  soon  silenced  by  the  guns  of 
one  of  Saunders's  frigates,  sent  to  drive 
away  the  annoyance. 

Wolfe  daily  increased  his  fortifications 
on  Point  Levi,  and  continued  to  fire  with 
great  effect  upon  the  city.  With  red-hot 
balls  and  bombshells  he  succeeded  in  set 
ting  fire  to  over  forty  houses  in  one  night, 
destroying  the  greater  part  of  the  lower 
town,  and  so  angering  the  inhabitants, 
that  they  volunteered  to  cross  the  St. 
Lawrence  in  a  body  and  drive  away  the 
invaders.  This  was,  however,  but  a  tem 
porary  fit  of  enthusiasm ;  and  the  citizens, 
becoming  more  discreet,  thought  better 
of  their  rash  determination,  and  retired 
from  their  ruined  habitations  to  the  se 
curity  of  the  citadel,  which,  perched  on 


July  9, 


the  heights,  the  English  guns  could  not 
reach. 

The  British  had  now  been  a  fortnight 
before  Quebec ;  and,  although  they  had 
made  good  their  possession  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  and  had  suc 
ceeded  in  keeping  up  a  brisk  fire  from 
the  Point-Levi  batteries,  no  impression 
had  been  made  upon  the  citadel  itself, 
and  the  object  of  the  expedition  seemed 
almost  as  remote  from  accomplishment 
as  ever. 

Wolfe  now  determined  upon  a  plan  of 
operations  by  which  he  hoped  to  get  at 
the  enemy  more  effectually.  Montcalm 
had  extended  his  camp  from  the  citadel, 
along  the  northern  bank  of  the  St.  Law 
rence,  as  far  as  the  river  and  falls  of 
Montmorenci.  Wolfe  proposed  to  land 
his  forces  on  the  side  of  this  river  and 
these  falls  opposite  to  the  farthest  east 
ern  extremity  of  the  French  encamp 
ment.  In  order  to  divert  the  enemy, 
while  Wolfe  was  engaged  in  crossing  the 
St.  Lawrence  to  the  Montmorenci,  the 
smaller  vessels  of  the  fleet  were  worked 
in  close  to  the  northern  shore,  and  began 
to  play  their  guns  upon  the  French,  and 
with  such  success,  that  they  were  forced 
to  draw  back  their  troops  from  the  bor 
der  of  the  river  to  the  higher  ground 
behind. 

Monckton,  too,  was  ordered  to  make  a 
diversion,  on  Point  Levi,  toward  Quebec. 
He  accordingly  sent  out  a  small  compa 
ny  of  his  rangers,  under  Lieutenant  Rog 
ers,  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  larger  move 
ment  on  the  southern  shore  of  the  river. 
The  rangers  pushed  on  with  such  zeal, 
that  they  got  lost  in  the  thick  woods, 


11C 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPATT 


and,  night  coming  on,  were  forced  to  pass 
it  in  the  forest,  sleeping  on  their  arms. 
Next  morning,  while  making  their  way 
to  Monckton's  camp,  they  observed,  in 
some  rising  smoke,  signs  of  habitation, 
and  accordingly,  having  cautiously  ad 
vanced,  came  upon  a  log-house,  where 
they  found  a  Canadian  settler  and  his 
three  children,  the  eldest  of  whom  was 
less  than  fifteen  years.  They  were  taken 
captive,  and  were  being  led  back  to  the 
camp,  when  suddenly  the  whoop  of  the 
Indian  sounded  upon  their  ears,  and  they 
discovered  that  a  large  body  of  these  sav 
ages  were  close  upon  their  track. 

There  was  no  hope  now  but  in  conceal 
ment  and  flight.  The  rangers,  skilled  in 
forest-warfare,  plunged  at  once  into  the 
woods,  and  strove  to  dodge  the  Indian  pur 
suit  amonff  the  trees  and  undergrowth. 

O  O 

They  moved  on  with  the  greatest  possi 
ble  haste,  dragging  their  prisoners  with 
them,  and  endeavored  to  keep  so  silent 
as  not  to  be  heard  by  the  savages,  who 
were  beating  the  woods  like  so  many 
bloodhounds.  Silence,  however,  was  im 
possible.  The  Canadian  father  and  his 
eldest  son  were  readily  kept  quiet ;  but 
the  two  younger  children,  who  wTere  al 
most  infants,  kept  up  such  a  continual 
cry  of  fear  and  anguish,  that  it  was  found 
impossible  to  stop  them.  Threats  were 
tried  in  vain,  and  persuasions  were  found 
equally  useless.  They  were  urged  by 
Lieutenant  Rogers  to  leave  him,  and  find 
their  way  home ;  but  they  would  not  be 
entreated,  and  continued  their  lamenta 
tions,  so  that  the  woods  rang  with  their 
cries.  The  savages,  guided  by  the  noise, 
were  fast  approaching.  Rogers  was  al 


most  in  despair.  His  only  hope  was  now 
in  a  terrible  sacrifice.  The  children  must 
be  silenced ;  and  silenced  they  were,  by 
death !  A  sword  was  plunged  into  the 
heart  of  each  of  the  innocents,  and  their 
bodies  cast  aside,  to  be  eaten  by  the 
wolves.  Rogers  now  succeeded  in  reach 
ing  Monckton's  camp  in  safety  with  all 
his  rangers  and  the  bereaved  remnant  of 
his  prisoners. 

Wolfe  succeeded  without  difficulty  in 
conveying  a  large  force  from  the  island 
of  Orleans  to  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river,  and  there  encamped  them.  The 
river  and  the  falls  of  Montmorenci  were 
now  between  him  and  the  enemy :  he 
was  on  the  east  side  of  the  stream,  whose 
course  is  north  and  south,  and  they  on 
the  west.  The  falls,  with  a  descent  of 
three  hundred  feet,  and  the  rapids  of  the 
river,  near  where  Wolfe  was  encamped, 
formed  an  impassable  barrier  between 
the  two  camps.  The  ground  which  the 
English,  after  a  slight  struggle  with  the 
Indians  and  bush-rangers,  now  held,  was 
in  a  commanding  position,  and  so  lofty, 
that  from  its  cliffs  the  eye  readily  looked 
down  within  the  intrenchments  of  the 
enemy  on  the  opposite  side.  A  crossing- 
place  was  now  searched  for,  and  a  ford 
found  some  three  miles  distant  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Montmorenci.  But  the 
French  side  was  so  well  protected  by  the 
natural  barriers  of  precipice  and  throng 
ing  woods,  and  the  strong  intrenchments 
which  the  alert  Montcalm  had  thrown 
up,  that  it  seemed  almost  impracticable 
to  attempt  it.  Several  efforts  were,  not 
withstanding,  made  —  which,  however, 
were  repulsed  each  time  by  a  murderous 


COLONIAL.] 


THE  FLEET  ASCENDS  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


117 


fire  from  the  Indians  hidden  in  the  forest 
covert.  Wolfe  now  abandoned  for  ever 
all  hope  of  crossing  at  that  point. 

Montcalm  became  confident  and  more 
daring  when  he  found  Wolfe's  plan  had 
failed ;  and,  believing  that  the  English 
had  made  a  fatal  error  in  dividing  their 
force,  tried  to  profit  by  it.  He  accord 
ingly  sent  a  body  of  troops  from  Quebec 
to  the  south  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
to  the  west  of  Point  Levi,  where  Monck- 
ton  was  encamped,  and  gave  orders  for 
a  night-attack.  Wolfe,  hearing  of  this 
movement,  made  his  way  across  at  once, 
and  took  command  in  person  of  the  troops 
in  Monckton's  camp.  Not  conscious  of 
the  dangers  which  were  pressing  to  over 
whelm  them  in  the  darkness,  the  British 
soldiers  threw  themselves  down,  after  a 
day's  hard  duty  at  the  wTorks,  and  now 
lay  in  profound  repose. 

Two  thousand  French,  Canadians,  and 
savages,  as  soon  as  the  shades  of  evening 
had  begun  to  fall,  took  up  their  silent 
march.  De  Chassier,  a  brave  man,  lord 
of  the  domain  of  Point  Levi,  and  familiar 
with  every  landmark  and  forest-path,  led 
the  force.  This  was  separated,  as  it  ap 
proached  the  British  camp,  into  two  di 
visions.  One  was  sent  in  advance,  and 
the  other  followed  at  some  distance  in 
the  rear.  As  the  first  proceeded  through 
the  wood  in  the  increasing  darkness,  the 
men  became  suddenly  alarmed,  and  fled 
back  in  confusion.  The  other  division 
oming  up,  and  hearing  the  approaching 
footsteps  of  their  retreating  comrades, 
took  them  for  the  enemy,  and  commenced 
a  deadly  fire,  which  was  returned ;  and 
the  awful  mistake  was  not  discovered 


until  seventy  had  been  killed,  and  both 
parties  had  been  put  to  flight  in  opposite 
directions !  The  only  result  of  this  un 
fortunate  expedition  was  this  sad  suici 
dal  slaughter. 

While  the  British  troops  were  busily 
engaged  on  Point  Levi  and  the  bank  of 
the  Montmorenci,  in  throwing  up  their 
intrenchments,  Wolfe  continued  active  in 
studying  the  defences  of  the  enemy,  and 
the  natural  position  of  the  surrounding 
country.  A  portion  of  the  fleet,  under 
Admiral  Holmes,  having  been  moved  du 
ring  the  night,  much  to  the  surprise  and 
alarm  of  the  inhabitants  of  Quebec,  up 
the  St.  Lawrence,  and  even  beyond  that 
city,  where  they  were  anchored,  Wolfe 
seized  the  opportunity  of  taking  a  survey 
of  the  northern  bank  of  the  river,  to  the 
west  of  the  town.  He  accordingly  took 
a  barge  and  pushed  off  from  the  shore 
to  the  nearest  ship  in  the  stream.  The 
barge  was  observed,  and  immediately  the 
enemy's  guns  began  to  play  upon  her; 
but  she  happily  succeeded,  with  only  the 
loss  of  her  mast,  in  carrying  her  precious 
freight  to  the  safe  guardianship  of  a  sev 
enty-four.  Wolfe  did  not  like  the  look 
of  things  above  Quebec.  The  northern 
banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  rose  in  rugged 
precipices  from  the  shore,  there  as  else 
where,  about  the  site  of  the  formidable 
citadel.  Moreover,  the  French  had  de 
fended  the  approach  by  intrenchments 
and  a  strong  battery  at  Sillery,  which 
crowned  the  high  ground  of  the  northern 
shore  of  the  river.  Wolfe,  therefore,  for 
the  present,  turned  his  attention  else 
where. 

Near  where  the  Montmorenci  empties 


118 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i. 


into  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  stream,  after 
its  turbulent  course  over  the  falls  and 
rapids,  becomes  smooth,  and  at  low  tide 
go  shallow,  that  it  can  in  some  places  be 
crossed  on  foot.  Montcalm,  conscious  of 
the  natural  facilities  here  for  the  approach 
of  the  enemy,  had  fortified  the  place  with 
a  redoubt  below  the  bank ;  while  the  bank 
itself  rose  so  precipitately,  and  was  so 
strongly  intrenched,  that  even  if  an  op 
posing  force  should  succeed  in  gaining 
the  shore,  they  would  have  a  tough  work 
before  them  in  an  attempt  to  scale  the 
precipitous  heights  in  the  very  mouths 
of  a  threatening  battery.  Wolfe,  how 
ever,  growing  impatient — as  he  had  al 
ready  been  five  weeks  before  Quebec,  and 
had  done  nothing  to  satisfy  the  impulsive 
energies  of  his  restless  spirit — was  now 
resolved  upon  the  desperate  undertaking 
of  throwing  his  troops  across  to  this  very 
point,  so  strongly  resisting,  and  present 
ing  so  little  hope,  even  to  the  most  dar 
ing  and  resolute.  The  general,  notwith 
standing,  undertook  it,  and  failed.  The 
brigades  succeeded  in  getting  across  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  Montmorenci, 
and  Monckton's  force  landed  in  fine  or 
der  from  Point  Levi.  But  the  grenadiers 
were  in  too  great  a  hurry,  and,  pushing 
with  too  much  eagerness  for  the  intrench- 
ments,  were  repulsed,  and  came  flying 
back  in  disorder;  although  Monckton's 
men,  with  admirable  coolness,  formed  and 
held  the  ground  where  they  had  landed, 
and  thus  prevented  a  precipitate  and  con 
fused  retreat.  The  attack  had  been  de 
layed  by  the  grounding  of  some  of  the 
boats.  Night  was  now  approaching,  and 
the  tide  rising  fast;  so  Wolfe  withdrew 


his  men,  and  give  up  the  attempt  as  fu 
tile. 

In  this  unfortunate  repulse,  there  oc 
curred  an  incident  which  so  beautifully 
illustrates  the  manly  affection  of  comrade 
for  comrade,  and  affords  so  bright  a  rev 
elation  of  the  gentle  goodness  of  brave 
hearts,  while  even  steeled  to  the  cruel 
duties  of  war,  that  we  interweave  with 
heightened  pleasure  this  pure  page  of 
brotherly  feeling  with  the  leaves  of  the 
"  Battles  of  America,"  stained  as  they  are 
by  fratricidal  blood  : — 

Captain  Ochterlony  and  Ensign  Pey 
ton  belonged  to  the  regiment  of  Royal 
Americans.  They  were  nearly  of  an  age. 
which  did  not  exceed  thirty.  The  first 
was  a  North  Briton,  the  other  a  native 
of  Ireland.  Both  were  agreeable  in  per 
son  and  unblemished  in  character,  and 
connected  together  by  the  ties  of  mutual 
friendship  and  esteem.  On  the  day  that 
preceded  the  attempt  which  \ve  have  just 
related,  Captain  Ochterlony  had  been 
obliged  to  fight  a  duel  with  one  of  the 
German  officers  of  the  mercenary  troops 
employed  under  Wolfe,  in  which,  though 
he  wounded  and  disarmed  his  antagonist, 
yet  he  himself  received  a  dangerous  hurt 
under  the  right  arm,  in  consequence  of 
which  his  friends  insisted  on  his  remain 
ing  in  camp  during  the  action  of  the  fol 
lowing  day.  But  his  spirit  was  too  great 
to  comply  with  this  remonstrance.  He 
declared  it  should  never  be  said  that  "  a 
scratch,"  received  in  a  private  rencounter 
had  prevented  him  from  doing  his  dutj 
when  his  country  required  his  service ; 
and  he  took  the  field,  though  he  was 
hardly  able  to  carry  his  arms.  In  lead- 


COLONIAL.] 


PEYTON  AND  OCHTERLONY. 


119 


ing  up  his  men  to  the  enemy's  intrench- 
ments,  he  was  shot  through  the  lungs 
with  a  musket-ball ;  but  he  still  contin 
ued  advancing,  until,  by  the  loss  of  blood, 
he  became  too  weak  to  proceed  farther. 

About  the  same  time,  Mr.  Peyton  was 
lamed  by  a  shot,  which  shattered  the 
small  bone  of  his  left  leg.  The  soldiers, 
in  their  retreat,  earnestly  begged,  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  that  Captain  Ochter- 
lony  wrould  allow  them  to  carry  him  and 
the  ensign  off  the  field.  Mr.  Peyton,  with 
a  generous  disdain,  rejected  their  good 
offices,  declaring  that  he  would  not  leave 
his  captain  in  such  a  situation;  and  in  a 
little  time  they  remained  the  sole  survi 
vors  on  that  part  of  the  field. 

Captain  Ochterlony  sat  down  by  his 
friend;  and,  as  they  expected  nothing 
but  immediate  death,  they  took  leave  of 
each  other.  Yet  they  did  not  altogether 
lose  hope  of  protection  as  prisoners ;  for 
the  captain,  seeing  a  French  soldier  with 
two  Indians  approach,  started  up  and  ac 
costed  them  in  the  French  tongue,  which 
he  perfectly  understood,  and  expressed 
his  expectation  that  he  and  his  compan 
ion  would  be  treated  as  officers  and  gen 
tlemen.  The  Frenchman,  however,  came 
up  to  Mr.  Peyton,  as  he  lay  upon  the 
ground,  and  snatched  his  laced  hat  from 
him,  and  robbed  Ochterlony  of  his  watch 
and  money.  This  outrage  was  a  signal 
to  the  Indians,  who  seemed  to  be  entire 
ly  under  the  control  of  the  French  mis 
creant,  to  begin.  Accordingly,  one  of 
these  savages  struck  at  the  captain  be 
hind  with  the  buti>end  of  his  musket,  but, 
missing  his  head,  at  which  he  armed,  the 
blow  fell  upon  his  shoulder.  At  the  same 


moment  the  other  Indian,  with  his  muzzle 
to  the  breast  of  the  unfortunate  Ochter 
lony,  poured  its  contents  into  his  chest. 
"  0  Peyton,"  cried  out  the  captain,  "  the 
villain  has  shot  me !"  The  savage,  not 
yet  satiated  in  his  cruelty,  then  sprang 
upon  him  and  stabbed  him  in  the  belly 
with  his  tomahawk.  The  captain  was 
without  a  single  weapon  of  defence.  The 
Frenchman  and  his  associate  savages  now 
strove  to  strangle  him  with  his  own  sash  ; 
and  he  seemed  completely  at  their  mer 
cy,  struggling  upon  his  knees  with  all  his 
might. 

Peyton,  observing  the  position  of  his 
friend,  lifted  himself  from  the  ground, 
and,  levelling  his  double-barrelled  mus 
ket,  brought  one  of  the  savages  down, 
who  fell  dead  upon  the  spot.  The  sur 
viving  Indian  now  made  for  Peyton,  who 
seeing  the  savage  coming,  fired  with  a 
sure  aim  his  second  barrel  at  him,  but 
apparently  without  effect.  The  Indian 
then  returned  the  fire,  which  wounded 
Peyton  in  the  shoulder ;  and,  to  complete 
his  bloody  work,  rushed  upon  him  and 
thrust  his  bayonet  through  his  body. 
The  young  English  officer  was,  however, 
not  yet  despatched ;  and,  as  a  second  at 
tempt  was  being  made  with  the  bayonet, 
he  seized  the  musket  of  the  Indian,  and, 
dragging  him  close  to  him,  succeeded  in 
drawing  the  dagger  at  his  side,  and 
plunged  it  into  his  antagonist.  Now  en 
sued  a  fierce  struggle  for  life  or  death ; 
but  Peyton  managed  to  get  the  better  of 
the  Indian,  and  with  another  thrust  with 
the  poniard  the  savage  rolled  over,  and, 
with  one  last  agony,  breathed  no  more. 
At  this  moment  the  young  British  officer 


120 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  .. 


was  seized  with  an  uncontrollable  curi 
osity  to  find  out  whether  his  shot,  which 
had  seemed  to  be  a  sure  one,  had  taken 
effect.  On  stripping  the  blanket  off  the 
dead  body  of  the  savage,  he  discovered 
that  his  ball  had  passed  quite  through 
the  chest ! 

Peyton  now  managed  to  raise  himself 
on  one  leg,  and  to  hobble  toward  the 
place  where  he  saw  his  friend  Ochterlony 
standing  up,  with  the  Frenchman  at  his 
side,  not  far  from  the  French  battery. 
"  Captain,  I  am  glad  to  see,"  cried  out  his 
friend,  "  that  you  have  at  last  got  under 
protection ;  but  beware  of  that  villain 
with  you,  who  is  more  barbarous  than  the 
savages  themselves !  God  bless  you,  my 
dear  fellow !  I  see  some  Indians  coming 
this  way,  and  expect  to  be  murdered  im 
mediately." 

The  Indians  were,  indeed,  coming— 
some  thirty  of  them — who,  having  left 
off  pillaging  and  scalping  the  dead  who 
had  fallen  in  the  late  unfortunate  attempt, 
were  now  making  for  Peyton.  He,  dis 
abled  as  he  was,  made  a  run  for  life,  but 
had  not  proceeded  far,  when  he  found 
himself  unable  to  continue  his  flight.  He 
now  came  to  a  stop,  and  had  just  loaded 
his  musket,  when  two  of  the  Indians, 
ahead  of  their  fellow-savages,  came  al 
most  within  range  of  his  lire ;  but,  as  he 
aimed  at  them,  they  suddenly  paused, 
awaiting  the  coming  up  of  the  others. 
The  French,  in  the  meantime,  began  to 
play  with  their  cannon  and  musketry  up 
on  the  poor,  solitary,  and  maimed  Pey 
ton  !  This  was  his  almost  hopeless  posi 
tion,  when  he  caught  a  sight  in  the  dis 
tance  of  a  Highland  officer,  to  whom  he 


waved  his  hand,  in  signal  of  distress.  It 
was  fortunately  noticed,  and  three  men 
were  immediately  sent  to  his  aid. 

The  three  British  soldiers,  in  spite  of  a 
terrible  fire,  succeeded  in  reaching  Pey 
ton,  and  one  of  them  bore  him  off  on  his 
shoulders.  The  Highland  officer  was  his 
kinsman,  and,  having  heard  that  Peyton 
had  dropped  on  the  field,  had  come  out 
with  a  party ;  and,  driving  off  the  oppo 
sing  French  and  savages,  had  thus  suc 
ceeded  in  bringing  him  rescue,  and  car 
rying  him  off  in  triumph.  Ochterlony 
was  conveyed  as  a  prisoner  to  Quebec, 
where  he  soon  after  died  of  his  wounds 
— the  surgeons  declaring  that  he  might 
have  recovered  of  the  two  shots  in  his 
breast,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  fatal 
plunge  of  the  savage's  tomahawk  in  the 
belly.  * 

The  failure  at  the  Montmorenci  so 
wrought  upon  the  sensitive  nature  of 
Wolfe,  and  his  feeble  constitution  had 
been  so  broken  by  fatigue  and  exposure, 
that  he  now  fell  ill,  and  was  prostrate  in 
his  camp  with  fever  and  dysentery.  His 
proud  soul  recognised  death  alone  as  the 
alternative  of  conquest ;  and,  while  there 
was  life,  he  resolutely  strove  for  victory. 
He  now,  stretched  as  he  was  on  the  bed 
of  sickness,  bated  not  a  jot  of  his  energy 
and  resolute  courage.  He  issued  his  or 
ders  with  his  usual  promptness,  and  ex 
ercised  his  command  with  the  same  strict 
ness  of  discipline.  The  impetuous  rush 
of  the  grenadiers  had  lost  the  day,  and 
he  now  sternly  rebuked  them :  — 

"  The  check  which  the  grenadiers  met 

*  Smollett  tells  this  story,  and  we  have  repeated  it  very 
nearly  in  his  own  words. 


COLONIAL.] 


ILLNESS  OF  WOLFE. 


121 


with  will,  it  is  hoped,"  said  Wolfe,  "  be  a 
lesson  to  them  for  the  time  to  come. 
Such  impetuous,  irregular,  and  unsoldier- 
like  proceedings,  destroy  all  order,  and 
put  it  out  of  the  general's  power  to  exe 
cute  his  plans.  The  grenadiers  could  not 
suppose  that  they  alone  could  beat  the 
French  army ;  therefore  it  was  necessary 
the  corps  under  Brigadiers  Townshend 
and  Monckton  should  have  time  to  join 
them,  that  the  attack  might  be  general. 
The  very  first  fire  of  the  enemy  was  suf 
ficient  to  have  repulsed  men  who  had 
lost  all  sense  of  order  and  military  disci 
pline.  Amherst's  and  the  Highland  regi 
ment,  by  the  soldierlike  and  cool  manner 
in  which  they  formed,  would  undoubted 
ly  have  beaten  back  the  whole  Canadian 
army  if  they  had  ventured  to  attack  them. 
The  loss,  however,  is  very  inconsiderable, 
and  may  be  easily  repaired  when  a  favor 
able  opportunity  offers,  if  the  men  will 
show  a  proper  attention  to  their  offi 
cers." 

Wolfe,  however,  was  not  the  man  to 
linger  despondingly  upon  the  errors  of 
the  past.  His  impulsive  spirit  was  ever 
looking  forward  with  hope  to  the  future, 
and  his  sense  of  duty  prompted  him  to 
act  as  long  as  there  was  any  chance  of 
doing  something  for  the  cause  to  which 
he  had  pledged  his  service  and  his  honor. 
There  was  no  hesitation  in  his  conduct ; 
and  he  promptly  sent  Murray,  immedi 
ately  after  the  repulse  on  the  Montmo- 
renci,  with  twelve  hundred  men,  to  aid 
Admiral  Holmes  in  effecting  a  landing- 
above  Quebec.  Little,  however,  was  ac 
complished  by  this  movement,  as  Mont- 
calm  had  so  strongly  fortified  every  point, 
16 


and  so  diligently  guarded  against  sur 
prise,  that  it  was  found  impossible  to  do 
more  than  destroy  the  small  village  of 
Dechambaultin  the  course  of  the  passage 
up  the  river.  Some  prisoners  of  distinc 
tion  were  here  taken,  and  letters  found 
upon  them,  which  gave  the  first  informa 
tion  of  the  success  of  Amherst  at  Crown 
Point,  and  that  of  Johnson  at  Niagara. 
This  news  was  brought  back  by  Murray 
exultingly,  with  the  hope  of  cheering  his 
general ;  Wolfe,  however,  derived  but  lit- 
tie  comfort  from  the  intelligence,  as  he 
saw  at  once  that  there  was  no  hope  now 
of  aid  from  either  Johnson  or  Amherst, 
so  dilatory  had  been  their  progress. 

Wolfe  now  became  so  ill,  that  he  could 
no  longer  bear  the  daily  presence  of  his 
officers ;  but  his  mind  continually  dwelt 
upon  the  great  undertaking,  the  fate  of 
which  rested  on  him  alone.  He  devised 
plans  of  attack,  and  from  his  bed  dictated 
their  several  details,  with  this  general 
letter  to  his  brigadiers  :  — 

"  That  the  public  service  may  not  suf 
fer  from  the  general's  indisposition,  he 
begs  the  brigadiers  will  meet  and  con 
sult  together  for  the  public  utility  and 
advantage,  and  consider  of  the  best  meth 
od  to  attack  the  enemy. 

"  If  the  French  army  be  attacked  and 
defeated,  the  general  concludes  that  the 
town  would  immediately  surrender,  be 
cause  he  does  not  find  that  they  have 
any  provision  in  that  place. 

"  The  general  is  of  opinion  that  the 
army  should  be  attacked  in  preference 
to  the  place,  because  of  the  difficulties  of 
penetrating  from  the  lower  to  the  upper 
town ;  in  which  attempt  neither  the  guns 


122 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


of  the  shipping  nor  of  our  own  batteries 
could  be  of  much  use." 

Wolfe's  plans,  which  accompanied  this 
letter,  were  all — in  accordance  with  his 
view  of  attacking  the  army  and  not  the 
citadel — based  upon  operations  against 
the  French  encampment  extending  along 
the  northern  shore  from  the  city  of  Que 
bec  to  the  river  Montmorenci.  The  brig 
adiers  met  and  deliberated,  and  finally 
determined  on  another  and  bolder  pro 
ject,  said  to  have  been  suggested*  by 
Colonel  George  Townshend,  that  heroic 
officer  who  had  abandoned  rank,  position, 
parliamentary  influence,  and  the  endear 
ments  of  domestic  life,  to  share  in  the 
hardships  and  dangers  of  the  American 
campaign.  Wolfe  did  not  hesitate  to 
adopt  the  daring  suggestion  of  his  infe 
rior  in  command,  and  now  bent  all  his 
energies  to  crown  it  with  triumph. 

The  whole  army  welcomed  the  pros 
pect  of  some  decisive  action.  They  had 
been  harassed  by  the  irregular  warfare 
with  the  Indians  and  Canadians,  who  were 
constantly  provoking  them  into  skirmish 
es,  which  merely  fevered  cruelty  with  a 
thirst  for  blood,  and  brought  them  no 
nearer  to  the  settlement  of  the  great 
struggle.  The  Christian  soldier  was  laps 
ing  into  the  barbarity  of  the  heathen  sav 
age.  In  fact,  the  cdnversion  would  seem 
already  to  have  been  made.  For  exam 
ple :  A  French  priest  armed  some  eighty 

*  YVarburton. 


of  his  flock,  and  fortified  himself  in  a 
large  stone-house,  about  ten  miles  east 
ward  of  the  British  camp  at  Montmoren 
ci.  Thence  he  sent  a  message,  challen 
ging  to  combat,  an  English  detachment 
posted  in  his  neighborhood.  At  the  same 
time,  with  eccentric  French  courtesy,  he 
sent  a  polite  invitation  to  the  English 
commander  to  do  him  the  honor  of  dining 
with  him,  offering  him  a  safe-conduct  for 
the  occasion.  The  invitation  was  cour 
teously  refused.  Soon  after,  a  company 
of  light-troops,  with  a  fieldpiece,  was  sent 
against  the  belligerent  French  priest  and 
his  flock.  The  English  placed  themselves 
in  a  wood  near  by,  and  by  a  stratagem 
succeeded  in  enticing  the.  French  out  of 
their  fortified  house ;  and,  surrounding 
some  thirty  of  them,  killed  and  scalped 
the  whole,  including  the  gallant  priest 
That  the  victims  were  disguised  as  Indi 
ans,  was  pleaded  as  an  excuse  for  the 
savage  cruelty  with  which  they  were 
treated!* 

With  such  unholy  and  unsatisfactory 
warfare  to  noble  spirits,  it  was  not  sur 
prising  that  the  whole  army  was  eager 
for  a  change.  The  soldiers,  too,  suffered 
from  hardships  and  want  of  provisions. 
Horseflesh  had  already  been  served  out 
as  occasional  rations.  Moreover,  two 
months  had  been  passed  in  vain,  and  all 
felt  the  impatience  which  awaits  imsatr 
isfied  expectation. 

*  Warburton. 


COLONIAL.] 


WOLFE'S  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


123 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Wolfe's  Letter  to  Pitt. — The  Great  Commoner's  Dismay. — Walpole's  Babble. — Townshend  suggests  a  Plan  for  the  Cam 
paign. — Wolfe  adopts  it. — Reconnoitres  the  Heights. — Finds  a  Place  of  Landing. — Wolfe's  Cove. — The  Army  kept 
in  Ignorance. — The  Wisdom  of  the  Caution. — A  Deserter  from  the  French. — The  Enemy  losing  Heart. — Montealm 
writes  despairingly  to  Count  Mole. — His  Remarkable  Prophecy. — The  British  proceed  to  the  Attack. — Wolfe's  Night- 
Sail.— His  Song. — The  Plan  of  the  Attack. — Wolfe  and  Gray's  Elegy. — Wolfe  on  the  Shore. — The  British  on  the 
Heights  of  Abraham. — Montealm  doubtful. — Assured  at  last. — The  Battle. — Gallantry  on  Both  Sides. — Wolfe  falls. — 
The  British  victorious. — Wolfe  dies  "  happy." — De  Bougainville  blusters  loudly,  and  flies. — Montcalm's  Heroic  Death. 
— News  of  the  Victory  reaches  England. — Joy  and  Sorrow. — Honor  to  the  Brave. — End  of  the  Canadian  Campaign. 


1750, 


WOLFE,  after  several  weeks  of  ill 
ness,  had  sufficiently  recovered  his 
strength  to  present  himself  again  to  his 
troops.  He  showed,  as  always,  the  same 
undaunted  air  of  confidence  to  his  sol 
diers,  cheering  them  by  his  inspiriting 
words,  and  encouraging  them  by  his  self- 
reliant  example.  His  tone,  however,  to 
the  British  government  was  more  dis 
trustful.  "I  am  so  far  recovered,"  he 
wrote,  "  as  to  do  business ;  but  my  con 
stitution  is  entirely  ruined,  without  the 
consolation  of  having  done  any  consid 
erable  service  to  the  state,  or  without 
any  prospect  of  it."  Pitt  was  dismayed 
at  these  despairing  words,  and  began  to 
tremble  for  the  glory  of  his  country,  and 
to  fear  lest  he  had  intrusted  it  to  the 
guardianship  of  feeble  hands.  The  unfa 
vorable  news  began  to  circulate  in  Lon 
don,  and  its  great  people  to  quake  with 
fear.  Walpole  caught  up  the  echo  from 
the  aristocratic  circle  which  gathered 
about  the  personages  of  state,  and  re 
peated  it  in  a  gossiping  letter :  "  In  short, 
you  must  not,"  he  says,  "be  surprised 
that  we  have  failed  at  Quebec,  as  we  cer 
tainly  shall How  this  little  army  will 

get  away  from  a  much  larger,  and  in  this 


season,  and  in  that  country,  I  don't  guess 
— yes,  I  do."  Walpole's  "guess,"  which 
was  sure,  in  accordance  with  his  small, 
tittle-tattle  spirit,  to  take  a  mean  direc 
tion,  was  very  far  from  doing  justice  to 
the  great  character  of  Wolfe.  Walpole 
"guessed"  that  the  British  would  run 
away ! 

The  plan  which  Wolfe  had  adopted,  at 
the  suggestion  of  Townshend,  was  to  con 
vey  a  large  force  above  the  town,  and 
thus  draw  Montealm  from  his  citadel  to 
an  open  fight.  This  was  the  general  de 
sign  :  the  details  were  now  to  be  settled. 

Wolfe  allowed  no  weakness  or  tardy 
convalescence  to  interfere  with  the  activ 
ity  of  his  movements.  He  started  him 
self  at  once  on  board  one  of  the  frigates 
in  Admiral  Holmes's  squadron,  and,  sail 
ing  up  the  stream,  landed  in  a  cove  on 
the  northern  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
three  miles  above  Quebec,  while 
the  men-of-war  diverted  with  a 
busy  fire  the  various  French  batteries, 
and  covered  the  landing  of  the  general 
and  his  brigadiers  who  accompanied  him. 
The  place  where  they  had  driven  in  the 
boat  was  slightly  hollowed  out  in  the 
course  of  that  great  volcanic  movement 


Sept,  9, 


124 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART 


which,  ages  ago,  had  reft  in  two  the  land, 
and  made  way  for  the  rush  of  the  waters, 
which  now  calmly  flow,  in  the  beautiful 
river  St.  Lawrence,  between  its  rugged 
banks  of  slate.  The  place  has  ever  since 
been  called  "  Wolfe's  Cove."  From  the 
scant  spot  of  alluvial  shore  where  Wolfe 
landed,  there  led  up  the  precipice,  which 
frowned  high  above,  a  narrow  and  wind 
ing  way  to  the  summit.  Once  at  the  top, 
the  ground  becomes  almost  like  a  table 
land,  and  stretches  with  but  gentle  ele 
vations  to  the  walls  of  Quebec,  which 
stands  upon  a  part  of  this  high  level,  and 
defiantly  from  its  guarded  height,  raised 
upon  steep  sides  of  stone,  would  seem  to 
scorn  all  invaders. 

Wolfe  resolved  upon  taking  his  troops 
up  the  path  at  the  foot  of  which  he  had 
landed,  and  which  led  to  the  "  Plains  of 
Abraham,"  as  the  level  land  at  the  top 
of  the  headlong  cliff  was  called.  This 
was  such  a  daring  resolve  —  so  hazardous, 
so  remote  from  probability  and  apparent 
possibility — that  even  Montcalm,  with 
all  his  vigilant  foresight,  could  not  anti 
cipate  it.  Secrecy  was  absolutely  neces 
sary,  and  it  was  therefore  determined  to 
land  the  troops  in  the  dead  of  night, 
Wolfe  took  great  care  to  keep  his  own 
counsel ;  and,  although  he  at  once  made 
active  and  thorough  preparations  for  car 
rying  out  his  design,  he  let  no  word  es 
cape,  by  which  the  precise  object  of  his 
operations  might  be  known  to  the  sol 
diers,  and  his  plans  thus  exposed  to  the 
chance  of  reaching  the  enemy  through  a 
deserter.  In  his  orders  to  the 
troops,  he  spoke  of  their  embar 
kation  and  disembarkation,  specifying 


Sept,  11, 


the  hours  of  the  night ;  and  directed  the 
men  to  be  quite  silent,  and  not  on  any 
account,  when  about  to  land,  to  fire  from 
the  boats.  He  said  nothing,  however 
about  the  specific  object  of  his  design, 
but  confined  himself  to  the  general  order 
to  "  the  army  to  hold  themselves  in  readi 
ness  to  land  and  attack  the  enemy." 

Wolfe's  caution  was  wise ;  for,  on  the 
very  morning  which  preceded  the  night 
of  his  proposed  attempt,  one  of 
his  soldiers  deserted  to  the  ene 
my.  Knowing  nothing,  however,  this  fel 
low  had  nothing  to  communicate  to  the 
French.  One  of  Montcalm's  regulars,  who 
in  his  turn  deserted  to  the  English  camp, 
had  more  to  say.  From  him  it  was 
learned  that  the  French  general  believed 
the  attack  would  only  be  made  on  the 
Montmorenci  side,  and  accordingly  still 
kept  his  main  force  below  the  town ;  that 
a  large  detachment  of  troops  had  been 
sent  off  (thus  weakening  the  garrison  of 
Quebec)  to  meet  Amherst,  whose  success 
at  Crown  Point,  and  that  of  Johnson  at 
Niagara,  had  greatly  alarmed  the  Canar 
dians ;  that  M.  de  Bougainville,  with  fifteen 
hundred  men,  was  watching  the  move 
ments  of  the  British  fleet  above  the  town ; 
and,  finally,  that  the  French  were  in  great 
want  of  provisions,  and  much  disheart 
ened. 

The  French  had  too  much  occasion  to 
lose  heart.  The  British  fleet  rode  in  their 
waters,  in  triumphant  mastery  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  cutting  oft' all  hope  of  aid  by 
sea.  Amherst  and  Johnson  threatened 
the  Canadian  frontier  by  land.  And, 
worse  than  all,  the  able  Montcalm  was 
thwarted  by  the  obstinate  resistance  to 


OOLONIAL.J 


THE  LAST  ORDERS. 


125 


his  plans  by  the  less  capable  De  Vau- 
dreuil.  "  You  have  sold  your  country !" 
cried  out  the  general,  in  excited  rage 
against  the  governor ;  "  but  while  I  live," 
added  the  resolute  Montcalm,  "  I  will  not 
deliver  it  up  !"  He  wrote,  almost  in  the 
bitterness  of  despair,  to  M.  de  Mole,  presi 
dent  of  the  Parliament  of  France  :  "  The 
enemy  are  in  a  condition  to  offer  battle 
when  they  please,  and  I  can  not  refuse 
them,  although  I  shall  be  beaten.  My 
Canadians,  without  discipline,  and  deaf 
to  the  call  of  the  drum,  will  fly  at  the 
first  charge ;  and  what  will  be  left  for 
me,  but  to  be  overwhelmed  without  a 
resource  ?  Such  is  my  position — a  posi 
tion  so  terrible  for  a  general,  that  it  gives 
me  some  awful  moments  of  reflection ! 
But,  come  what  will,  be  assured  I  shall 
not  survive  the  loss  of  the  colony.  There 
are  times  when  all  that  is  left  for  a  gen 
eral  is  to  die  with  honor."  He  then  "  con 
soles"  himself,  as  he  declares,  with  a  re 
markable  prophecy  of  the  fatality  which 
should  attend  British  dominion  by  the 
conquest  of  Canada :  "  I  shall  console  my 
self,''  writes  Montcalm,  with  the  serious 
earnestness  of  a  prophet  of  wo,  "  for  my 
defeat,  by  the  certain  conviction  that  that 
defeat  will  one  day  be  worth  more  to  my 
country  than  a  single  victory,  and  that 
the  conqueror,  in  widening  his  dominion, 
will  but  open  for  himself  a  tomb."  Mont 
calm  was  conscious  that  his  chief  danger 
lay  above  Quebec,  and  wrote :  "  Unless 
Wolfe  lands  above  the  town,  and  forces 
me  to  a  battle,  I  am  safe."  Yet,  on  the 
very  night  that  the  danger  he  feared 
threatened  him,  he  knew  nothing  of  its 
ipproach ! 


The  British  troops  were  embarked. 
Wolfe  himself  was  on  board.  The  night 
had  set  in.  The  evening  was  clear.  The 
wind  was  fair,  with  the  promise  of  a  fresl 
breeze  to  carry  the  ships  rapidly  up  the 
St.  Lawrence.  The  plan  of  sending  the 
larger  vessels,  with  the  mock  show  of 
landing  a  force  on  the  northern  bank  of 
the  river,  near  the  Montmorenci,had  been 
successful,  and  the  enemy  were  still  un 
suspicious  of  Wolfe's  real  design.  The 
British  general  now  issued  his  last  orders, 
in  which,  having  reminded  his  army  that 
the  fate  of  Canada  might  be  determined 
by  a  vigorous  blow  struck  at  this  moment, 
he  tells  them  mysteriously,  still  keeping 
his  secret,  that  they  are  to  land  where 
the  French  would  least  expect  it.  "  The 
first  body  that  gets  on  shore  is  to  march 
directly  to  the  enemy.  The  battalions 
must  form  on  the  upper  ground  with  ex 
pedition,  and  be  ready  to  charge  what 
ever  presents  itself. ....  The  officers  and 
men  will  remember  what  is  expected 
from  them,  and  what  a  determined  body 
of  soldiers,  inured  to  war,  is  capable  of 
doing,  against  five  weak  French  battal 
ions,  mingled  with  a  disorderly  peas 
antry." 

Wolfe,  absorbed  as  he  was  in  the  prep 
arations  for  his  great  enterprise,  and  anx 
iously  disturbed  with  thoughts  of  its  haz 
ards,  and  the  importance  of  the  stake, 
still  preserved  his  cheerful,  confident  tone 
in  the  presence  of  all.  At  his  evening 
mess  he  was  even  joyous  in  the  company 
of  his  fellow-officers,  and  sang  his  own 
song  — 

"  Why,  soldiers,  why, 
Should  we  be  melancholy,  boys  ? 


126 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Why,  soldiers,  why  ? 

Whose  business  'tis  tc  die  !"* 

The  ships,  with  a  part  of  the  troops, 
now  sailed,  and,  with  a  favorable  breeze, 
soon  passed  up  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the 
rendezvous,  eight  miles  above  Quebec, 
where  they  joined  the  fleet  stationed 
there  under  Holmes.  That  portion  of 
the  army  at  Point  Levi  moved  simulta 
neously  along  the  southern  bank  of  the 
river,  and,  halting  opposite  to  the  ships, 
embarked.  The  troops,  to  the  number 
of  sixteen  hundred,  were  then  removed 
into  flat-bottomed  boats,  in  the  utmost 
silence.  Everything  promised  success. 
The  enemy  were  evidently  quite  uncon 
scious  of  the  English  movement,  although 
an  event  occurred  which  had  nearly  ex 
posed  the  whole  affair,  and  might  have 
spoiled  the  enterprise.  A  couple  of 
French  deserters  had  sought  refuge  on 
board  one  of  the  ships-of-war,  and,  giving 
information  of  an  expected  convoy  of 
provisions,  destined  to  Quebec,  from  De 
Bougainville's  force  up  the  river,  the  cap 
tain  of  the  ship  was  on  the  lookout,  and 
determined  to  stop  the  supplies.  The 
movement  among  the  English,  while  the 
troops  were  getting  into  the  small  boats, 
was  observed-  by  the  French  deserters, 
and  it  was  supposed  that  they  were  the 
convoy  preparing  to  make  for  Quebec. 
The  British  captain,  whose  vessel  was  at 
some  distance,  and  who  was  unconscious 
of  Wolfe's  plan,  had  pointed  his  guns  and 
was  about  to  fire,  when  fortunately  his 

*  We  have  already  quoted  the  whole  of  this  song,  as  given 
in  that  most  excellent  and  accurate  work  of  the  brothers 
Duyckinck,  "  The  Cyclopaedia  of  American  Literature." 
The  song  is  supposed  to  have  been  composed  on  the  night 
when  it  was  first  sung  by  Wolfe,  that  of  the  attack. 


preparations,  in  consequence  of  the  noise 
and  bustle,  were  observed  by  Wolfe,  who 
succeeded  in  setting  the  zealous  naval 
officer  aright,  and  thus  preventing  him 
from  killing  his  countrymen  and  alarm 
ing  the  French. 

About  an  hour  before  daybreak,  the 
fleet  of  flat-bottomed  boats  began  to  move 
down  with  the  ebbing  tide.  Wolfe,  in 
company  with  some  of  his  officers,  led 
the  van.  The  rowers,  with  muffled  oars, 
just  touched  the  rippling  stream,  and 
they  glided  silently  and  calmly  on.  The 
stars  shone  out  bright  in  the  clear  sky. 
The  stillness  and  darkness  of  the  night, 
the  gentle  movement,  the  regular  dip  of 
the  oar,  the  pulsation  of  the  tide  against 
the  ribbed  gunwale  of  the  boat,  the  stifled 
throbbings  of  the  expectant  hearts,  natu 
rally  subdued  all  to  quiet  and  serious 
thought.  Wolfe  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence,  by  uttering,  in  a  tone  of  gen 
tle  melancholy,  this  verse  of  Gray's  Ele 
gy;— 

*' k  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour — 

The  path  of  glory  leads  but  to  the  grave !' 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  said  Wolfe  to  his  offi 
cers,  "  I  would  rather  be  the  author  of 
that  poem  than  take  Quebec."  * 

The  boats  now  approached  the  land, 
and,  cautiously  floating  under  the  over 
hanging  cliffs,  they  at  last  reached  the 
cove  which  Wolfe  had  selected  for  the 
place  of  disembarkation.  The  general 

*  This  incident  is  told  by  a  gentleman  who  was  a  mid 
shipman,  doing  duty  on  board  Wolfe's  boat  on  that  night, 
and  became  afterward  Professor  John  llobinson,  of  the  Uni 
versity  of  Edinburgh. 


COLONIAL.] 


ON  THE  PLAINS  OF  ABRAHAM. 


127 


himself,  in  the  foremost  boat,  was  the 
first  to  leap  ashore.  Some  of  the  boats, 
carrying  a  company  of  Highlanders,  had 
been  borne  by  the  tide  to  some  distance 
below.  Donald  Macdonald,  their  captain, 
however,  without  hesitation,  leaped  on 
shore,  and,  nothing  daunted  by  the  steep 
ascent  above  him,  sprang  at  an  overhang 
ing  tree  ;  and,  bidding  his  men  to  follow, 
climbed  up  the  jagged  precipice  to  the 
top,  with  his  soldiers  close  behind  him. 
On  the  summit  was  a  French  sentinel, 
wrho,  hearing  approaching  steps,  cried  out, 
"  Qid  vive?" — "La  France!"  was  the  quick 
reply  of  Macdonald,  who  fortunately  un 
derstood  the  French  language.  "A  qucl 
regiment?'"  pertinaciously  inquired  the 
Frenchman.  "  De  la  Heine !"  answered 
the  captain,  who  knew  that  was  De  Bou 
gainville's.  And  the  French  soldier,  mut 
tering,  "Passe"  continued  to  pace  his 
round.  The  Highlanders,  however,  as 
they  scrambled  up  among  the  bushes, 
and  the  loosened  slate  of  the  precipice, 
made  a  rustling  noise,  which  alarmed  the 
enemy's  guard,  who,  after  rushing  toward 
the  edge  of  the  clifi^  and  firing  a  volley, 
took  to  their  heels. 

Wolfe,  with  his  brigadiers  Monckton 
and  Murray,  and  the  first  division  of  the 
army,  were  not  less  successful  below. 
They  all  clambered  along  the  precipitous 
path,  so  narrow  that  but  two  could  go 
abreast,  and  reached  the  top  without  op 
position.  The  French  pickets  stationed 
on  the  summit  were  overpowered  at  once, 
and  the  rest  of  the  forces  continued  to 
come  up  in  rapid  succession,  without  re 
sistance.  As  the  day  broke,  the  whole 
army  had  reached  the  "  Plains  of  Abra 


ham,"  and,  being  formed  on  solid  ground, 
were  ready  for  the  enemy  at  any  mo 
ment. 

When  a  messenger  arrived  at  Mont 
calm's  quarters  with  the  intelligence  of 
the  English  army  being  drawn  up  on  the 
plains  of  Abraham,  he  would  hardly  be 
lieve  it,  and  contemptuously  declared, 
"  It  can  be  but  a  small  party,  come  to 
burn  a  few  houses  and  retire."  After 
more  explicit  information,  however,  he 
became  assured  of  the  fact,  and  cried  out, 
angrily :  "  Then  they  have,  at  last,  got 
to  the  weak  side  of  this  miserable  garri 
son.  I  must  give  battle,  and  crush  them 
before  noon!"  Montcalm  acted  accord 
ingly,  and  unwisely.  His  gallantry  mis 
led  him.  His  true  policy  would  have 
been  the  discreet  one  of  retiring  within 
the  citadel,  and  awaiting  there,  safe  with 
in  its  walls,  until  he  had  exhausted  the 
patience  and  resources  of  his  enemy.  He 
recklessly  determined,  however,  to  give 
battle ;  and,  hastily  collecting  his  forces 
from  Quebec  and  from  below,  along  the 
northern  shores  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  to 
the  Montmorenci,  he  drew  them  up,  and 
marched  to  face  the  foe. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
French  column  was  observed  from  the 
English  camp  to  be  advancing  up  the 
rising  ground  from  the  river  St.  Charles 
to  the  plains  of  Abraham.  Wolfe  had 
succeeded  in  dragging  up  the  cliff  but  a 
single  piece  of  artillery ;  but  this  solitary 
gun  was  made  to  play  with  such  effec 
upon  Montcalm's  forces,  that  they  were 
obliged  to  alter  their  line  of  march. 

At  ten  o'clock,  Montcalm  had  reached 
the  battle-field,  and  began  to  form  hin 


128 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


army.  As  he  came  up,  however.,  De  Bou 
gainville,  who  had  been  summoned  by 
the  French  general  to  his  aid,  sent  up,  in 
advance  of  his  own  inarch,  a  body  of  light 
cavalry,  which  made  a  show  of  attack  up 
on  Wolfe's  left,  but  were  easily  checked 
by  Townshend,  at  that  post.  Montcalm 
formed  his  centre  of  seven  hundred  and 
twenty  regulars,  of  the  regiments  of 
Bearne  and  Guienne,  with  twelve  hun 
dred  militia,  and  led  it  in  person.  To 
his  right  he  placed  the  regiments  of  La 
Sasse  and  Languedoc,  some  sixteen  hun 
dred  strong,  all  veteran  soldiers ;  with 
these  was  a  militia  force  of  less  than  five 
hundred,  and  a  single  small  fieldpiece. 
On  the  left  were  thirteen  hundred  infan 
try  of  the  Royal  Rousillon  regiment,  to 
gether  with  twenty-three  hundred  Cana 
dian  militia  and  a  marine  battalion.  The 
whole  French  force  thus  amounted  to 
half  a  hundred  less  than  eight  thousand, 
without  counting  the  Indians,  who  were 
distributed  about,  to  hide  themselves  in 
the  neighboring  bush,  and  thus  execute 
what  annoyance  they  could  by  their  usu 
al  mode  of  warfare.  Less  than  a  half  of 
Montcalm's  force,  however,  were  regulars, 
and  the  rest  were  raw  Canadians,  in  whom 
he  had  no  confidence.  Wolfe  himself 
enumerated  his  enemy  thus  contemptu 
ously — "  Five  weak  French  battalions, 
mingled  with  a  disorderly  peasantry !" 
But  this  was  his  statement  to  his  own 
men,  for  the  sake  of  encouragement.  He 
knew  that  he  had  one  of  the  most  skilful 
generals  of  the  age,  with  some  of  the 
most  experienced  soldiers,  pitted  against 
him. 

The  English  from  an  early  hour  had 


awaited,  in  battle  array,  the  coming  up 
of  the  enemy.  Wolfe  himself  led  the 
front  line,  on  the  right  with  Monckton, 
and  Murray  the  left.  The  second  line 
was  under  the  command  of  Townshend, 
who,  with  his  light-infantry  and  the  Royal 
Americans,  took  position  at  the  extreme 
left.  A  reserve  was  thrown  back  in  a  third 
line,  under  Burton  and  Howe.  Wolfe's 
whole  force  was  less  than  five  thousand, 
but  each  man  was  a  trained  soldier. 

Montcalm  had  sent  in  great  haste  for 
De  Bougainville  and  De  Vaudreuil  to 
come  up  with  their  troops,  and  in  the 
meantime  checked  his  impatience  for  the 
onset  by  a  diversion  with  his  three  small 
pieces  of  artillery,  which,  in  his  hurry, 
were  all  he  had  brought  with  him.  For 
an  hour  he  continued  firing  his  cannon 
upon  the  British,  who  rejoined  with  their 
single  gun ;  and  thus,  during  that  time, 
an  ineffective  fire  was  kept  up. 

Montcalm  now  lost  all  patience,  and 
began  the  attack  in  earnest.  His  first 
attempt  was,  by  a  Hank  movement,  to 
crowd  the  English  down  the  precipice. 
With  this  purpose  in  view,  the  French 
veterans  on  the  right  swept  round  the 
English  left^  under  Murray,  with  impetu 
ous  force,  and  poured  in  a  murderous  fire 
upon  the  light-infantry  in  the  rear,  under 
Howe.  This  young  officer  gave  them  a 
warm  reception,  and  stayed  their  prog 
ress  until  Townshend  came  up  to  his  re 
lief  with  his  infantry  and  the  Royal  Amer 
icans,  and  drove  the  French  back  to  their 
lines  in  greatly-diminished  numbers. 

The  attempt  upon  the  light-infantry  in 
front  of  the  British  centre  was  more  suc 
cessful,  and  came  near  deciding  the  day 


COLONIAL.] 


WOLFE  FALLS. 


120 


disastrously  for  Wolfe.  Observing  these 
troops  yielding  before  the  French  marks 
men,  and  fearing  lest,  as  they  fell  back 
in  their  flight,  they  might  force  the  main 
body  into  confusion,  Wolfe  hurried  along 
the  line,  and,  encouraging  his  men,  bade 
them  to  hold  back  their  fire,  and  not  to 
move  a  step  until  ordered.  He  was  none 
too  soon;  for  the  soldiers  in  the  rear, 
having  become  conscious  of  the  confused 
movement  in  front,  were  in  a  state  of 
anxious  excitement.  Wolfe's  presence, 
however,  and  his  few  inspiriting  words, 
calmed  them  at  once,  and  they  again 
firmly  stood  their  ground. 

Now  Montcalm,  encouraged  by  the  suc 
cess  of  his  skirmishers,  bore  down  with 
his  whole  centre  toward  the  English  right 
wing.  The  French*  as  they  halted,  poured 
in  a  terrible  fire.  The  British  fell  fast  be 
fore  it ;  and  Wolfe  himself,  who  was  in  the 
foremost  van,  was  among  the  first  to  suffer. 
A  shot  wounded  him  in  the  wrist;  but 
hastily  wrapping  a  handkerchief  around 
it,  he  continued  to  pass  from  rank  to  rank, 
exhorting  each  man  not  to  fire.  The 
troops,  true  to  discipline,  obeyed;  and 
these  "unknown  demigods"  coolly  bore 
the  murderous  attack  of  the  enemy  with 
out  a  waver,  moving  only  to  step  over 
the  dead  bodies  of  their  heroic  comrades, 
into  their  empty  ranks. 

Wolfe  waited  until  the  enemy  had 
reached  within  a  distance  of  forty  yards, 
and  then  ordered  the  whole  line  to  fire. 
The  effect  was  terrific.  The  French  col 
umns  seemed  to  stagger  as  one  body  un 
der  the  shock.  Whole  ranks  fell  in  heaps 
together — leaving  to  the  view,  as  the 
smoke  cleared  away,  the  scattered  sol- 

17 


diers  standing  aghast  here  and  there,  and 
marking,  like  monumental  stones,  the 
places  of  the  dead.  Officers  and  men 
had  suffered  alike.  St.  Ours  and  De  Zen- 
czergnes  were  dead,  and  Montcalm  him 
self  severely  wounded.  The  French  vet 
erans,  a  ghastly  remnant,  still  stood  their 
ground,  but  the  Canadian  militia  had  fled 
in  fright.  The  victory  was  won,  but  the 
gallant  Montcalm  would  not  give  up  the 
fight.  Though  deserted  by  all  the  Cana 
dians,  and  though  his  own  faithful  French 
men  had  been  fearfully  diminished  in 
numbers,  the  general  brought  together 
the  scattered  remnant  of  his  regulars, 
and  cheered  them  on  for  another  attack. 
They  halted,  and  prepared  to  fire. 

Wolfe  at  this  moment  ordered  his  line 
to  advance,  and  the  whole  army  moved 
forward  and  calmly  returned  the  volley 
which  just  came  from  the  enemy.  The 
British  soldiers,  however,  provoked  by  the 
resistance  of  the  shattered  French  ranks, 
could  no  longer  restrain  themselves,  and 
began,  in  spite  of  discipline,  to  run  with 
an  impetuous  rush  at  the  enemy,  sweep 
ing  all  before  them.  Wolfe  was  leading 
on  the  twenty-eighth  and  the  Louisburg 
grenadiers,  as  with  fixed  bayonets  they 
charged  the  steady  French  veterans  (who, 
though  falling  fast,  kept  up  an  obstinate 
fire),  when  he  was  wounded  a  second 
time,  in  the  body,  but  carefully  concealed 
it.  Again,  as  he  bravely  bore  on  in  front, 
a  ball  from  the  enemv's  redoubt  struck 

«/ 

him  in  the  breast.  Staggering  with  the 
shock,  he  quietly  said  to  an  officer  by  his 
side,  "  Support  me,  that  my  brave  fellows 
may  not  see  me  fall."  He,  however,  after 
an  effort  to  rally  his  strength,  sank  im- 


130 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  f 


mediately  into  the  arms  of  his  friend,  and 
with  the  aid  of  some  soldiers  was  borne 
to  a  short  distance  in  the  rear. 

Monckton  was  sent  for,  to  take  com 
mand;  but  he  had  been  wounded,  and 
could  no  longer  do  duty.  Townshend 
was  then  summoned,  and,  coming  up  to 
the  spot  where  his  general  lay  in  agony, 
cast  a  momentary  glance  of  despair,  and 
then  hurried  away,  as  chief,  to  complete 
the  victory  of  the  day.  The  French  still 
gallantly  resisted,  for  Montcalm  was  yet 
on  the  alert,  and  impetuously  urging  his 
troops  to  form  and  to  fight.  He  was  ev 
erywhere,  riding  about  among  them,  and 
shouting  out  brave  words  of  encourage 
ment.  His  troops  did  continue  to  strug 
gle  manfully,  but  it  was  useless ;  the  Eng 
lish,  thronging  up,  drove  all  before  them. 
Montcalm  himself  was  now  struck  down, 
and  his  soldiers  fled  in  dismay. 

The  dying  Wolfe  struggled  against  the 
agonies  of  death,  with  his  mind  still  in 
tent  upon  duty.  As  his  strength  weak 
ened,  he  made  a  strong  effort  to  bring 
back  his  departing  vitality.  With  his 
hand  he  strove  to  brush  away  the  web 
which  Death  was  busily  weaving  before 
his  eyes,  and  at  the  same  moment  suc 
ceeded  in  raising  himself  to  a  sitting  pos 
ture.  At  this  instant,  an  officer  cried 
out,  "  See  !  see  !  how  they  run !" — "  Who 
runs  ?"  exclaimed  Wolfe.  "  The  enemy, 
sir ;  they  give  way  everywhere,"  was  the 
answer.  "  Go,  then,  one  of  you,  to  Bur 
ton,  and  tell  him  to  march  Webb's  regi 
ment  to  the  bridge,  and  cut  off  the  re 
treat,"  said  the  dying  general,  who  to  the 
last  was  mindful  only  of  his  duty.  "  Now, 
God  be  praised,  I  shall  die  happy !"  he 


faintly  uttered ;  and,  turning  over  his 
body,  shuddered  with  the  last  agony  :  his 
eyes  closed ;  and  the  brave  Wolfe  lived 
only,  but  for  ever,  in  memory. 

The  rout  of  the  French  was  complete  ; 
the  English  pursuit  fierce  and  pertina 
cious.  The  Highlanders,  with  their  clay 
mores,  made  a  great  havoc  among  the  fu 
gitives,  some  of  whom  begged  piteously 
to  be  spared,  as  they  had  not  been  among 
those  at  Fort  William  Henry.*  Many  of 
the  enemy  made  for  the  citadel,  and  were 
not  safe  until  they  had  succeeded  in  getr 
ting  within  its  walls.  The  British  troops, 
in  the  ardor  of  the  pursuit,  were  in  a  state 
of  confusion ;  but  Townshend,  expecting 
the  coming  up  of  De  Bougainville  with 
his  fresh  force,  took  care  to  recall  his  dis 
ordered  battalions,  and  draw  them  up  in 
readiness  for  the  still-unconquered  por 
tion  of  the  enemy. 

De  Bougainville  had  hurried  up  with 
his  fifteen  hundred  men ;  but,  so  rapid 
had  been  the  defeat  of  Montcalm's  troops, 
that  he  found  none  to  co-operate  with. 
So  complete,  moreover,  had  been  the  Eng 
lish  victory,  that  De  Bougainville's  forces, 
although  composed  of  the  choicest  of  the 
French  grenadiers  and  light-infantry,were 
so  discouraged  by  the  total  rout  of  their 
countrymen,  that  they  hardly  dared  to 
show  an  opposing  front  to  the  troops 
Towrnshend  sent  against  them.  Their 
advance  was  checked  at  once  by  a  cou 
ple  of  regiments  and  two  fieldpieces ;  and 
the  French  scarcely  caught  a  glimpse  of 
them,  before  they  were  off  in  a  precipi- 

*  The  conduct  of  the  victorious  French  at  Fort  William 
Henry  had  been  cruel,  and  the  English  burned  to  retaliate 
upon  the  enemy  for  their  ferocity  on  that  occasion. 


COLONIAL.J 


DEATH  OF  MONTCALM. 


131 


tate  retreat  along  the  northern  bank  of 
the  river,  above  Quebec.  De  Vaudreuil 
was  still  more  in  a  hurry;  and,  as  soon 
as  he  heard  of  Wolfe's  success,  he  made 
off  with  his  fifteen  hundred  Canadians, 
leaving  behind  him  his  artillery,  ammu 
nition,  and  all  his  stores.  De  Vaudreuil 
was  conscience-stricken,  and  feared  great 
ly  lest  he  should  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  English,  who,  as  Walpole  says,  "  were 
determined  to  scalp  him,  he  having  been 
the  chief  and  blackest  author  of  the  cruel 
ties  exercised  on  our  countrymen.  Some 
of  his  letters  were  taken,  in  which  he  ex 
plicitly  and  basely  said  that  i  peace  was 
the  best  time  for  making  war  on  the 
English !' " 

The  whole  loss  of  the  British  on  the 
plains  of  Abraham  was  only  fifty-five 
killed  and  six  hundred  and  seven  wound 
ed  ;  while  that  of  the  French  could  not 
have  been  less  than  fifteen  hundred  in 
all. 

The  brave  Montcalm,  when  he  was 
wTounded,  was  borne  to  the  citadel ;  and 
when  the  surgeon  began  to  examine  his 
wound,  he  was  asked  by  the  general  if 
it  was  mortal.  Being  told  that  it  was, 
Montcalm  calmly  rejoined, "  I  am  glad  of 
"t,"  and  asked,  "  how  long  can  I  survive  ?" 
— '"  Perhaps  a  day,  perhaps  less,"  was  the 
surgeon's  answer.  "  So  much  the  better ; 
I  shall  not  live  to  see  the  surrender  of 
Quebec !"  exclaimed  the  gallant  Mont 
calm.  He  now  prepared  for  death,  and, 
when  asked  for  his  commands  in  regard 
to  the  citadel,  he  refused  to  give  them, 
saying  :  "  My  time  is  very  short,  so  pray 
leave  me.  I  wish  you  all  comfort,  and 
to  be  happily  extricated  from  your  pres 


ent  perplexities."  The  priest  was  then 
summoned,  who  performed  extreme  unc 
tion,  and  remained  by  his  side  until  he 
breathed  his  last.  With  his  dying  word 
he  paid  this  tribute  to  his  foe :  "  Since 
it  was  my  misfortune  to  be  discomfited 
and  mortally  wounded,  it  is  a  great  con 
solation  to  be  vanquished  by  so  great 
and  generous  an  enemy.  If  I  could  sur 
vive  this  wound,  I  would  engage  to  beat 
three  times  the  number  of  such  forces  as 
I  commanded,  with  a  third  of  their  num 
ber  of  British  troops." 

De  Vaudreuil, on  reaching  Cape  Rouge 
where  he  had  retreated  and  joined  his 
forces  to  those  of  De  Bougainville,  grand 
iloquently  expressed  the  opinion  to  the 
assembled  officers,  that "  they  should  take 
their  revenge  on  the  morrow,  and  endeav 
or  to  wipe  off  the  disgraces  of  the  day. 
The  council,  however,  more  discreetly  re 
solved  upon  continuing  the  retreat,  and 
De  Vaudreuil  himself  was  not  backward 
in  giving  in  his  adhesion  to  the  prudent 
resolve.  They  retired  to  Point  aux  Trem 
bles,  where  they  were  soon  joined  by  De 
L  e  vi  and  his  troops  from  Montreal,  whence 
he  had  commenced  his  march  as  soon  as 
he  heard  of  Montcalm's  defeat.  After  this 
junction  there  was  a  momentary  feeling 
of  hope,  and  the  generals  wrote  to  Rain- 
say,  in  command  of  the  garrison  at  Que 
bec  :  "  We  exhort  you  by  all  means  to 
hold  out  to  the  last  extremity.  On  the 
18th  [September]  the  whole  army  shall 
be  in  motion.  A  disposition  is  made  to 
throw  in  a  large  supply  of  provisions,  and 
to  relieve  the  town."  It  was  too  late : 
Quebec  was  surrendered  on  the  very 
morning  (September  18,  1759)  that  De 


132 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Vaudreuil's  messenger  reached  the  gates 
of  the  citadel. 

The  joyful  news  of  Wolfe's  great  vic 
tory  was  received  in  England  with  a  uni 
versal  acclamation  of  delight.  "  You  may 
now  give  yourself,"  writes  Walpole  to  the 
British  embassador  at  the  Hague  (Sir  H. 
Mann),  "  what  airs  you  please ;  you  are 

master  of  East  and  West  Indies It 

was  a  very  singular  affair,  the  generals 
on  both  sides  slain,  and  on  both  sides  the 
second  in  command  wounded — in  short, 
very  near  what  battles  should  be,  in 
which  only  the  principals  ought  to  suffer. 
If  their  army  has  not  ammunition  and 
spirit  enough  to  fall  again  upon  ours  be 
fore  Amherst  comes  up,  all  North  Amer 
ica  is  ours  ! . . . .  What  a  scene  !  an  army 
in  the  night  dragging  itself  up  a  preci 
pice  by  stumps  of  trees,  to  assault  a  town 
and  attack  an  army  strongly  intrenched 
and  double  in  numbers.  Adieu  !  I  think 
I  shall  not  write  to  you  again  this  twelve 
month  ;  for,  like  Alexander,  we  have  no 
more  worlds  left  to  conquer." 

Pitt,  the  great  minister,  in  the  afflu 
ence  of  his  glowing  rhetoric,  spoke  to 
the  British  senate  of  "  the  horror  of  the 
night;  the  precipice  scaled  by  Wolfe;  the 
empire  he  with  a  handful  of  men  added 
to  England ;  and  the  glorious  catastro 
phe  of  contentedly  terminating  life  where 
his  fame  began. . . .  Ancient  story  may  be 
ransacked,  and  ostentatious  philosophy 
thrown  into  the  account,  before  an  epi 
sode  can  be  found  to  rank  with  Wolfe's  1" 
These  eloquent  words  of  Pitt  prefaced 
his  motion  that  a  monument  should  be 
erected  in  Westminster  Abbey  to  the 
memory  of  the  hero.  The  British  people, 


LFAKT  i 

pious,  grateful,  and  exultant,  joined  in 
public  thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  vic 
tory  ;  bestowed,  through  their  represen 
tatives  in  Parliament,  a  liberal  largess 
upon  Wolfe's  family ;  and  raised  with  one 
voice,  throughout  England's  wide  domin 
ions,  a  burst  of  triumph  on  a  day  set 
apart  for  holyday  rejoicing.  In  West 
minster  Abbe}^,  sculptured  art  and  classic 
learning  record  the  gratitude  and  sorrow 
of  Great  Britain.  A  tall  column  of  stone 
rises  above  the  heights  of  Quebec,  to  tes 
tify  to  the  taste  and  feeling  of  a  noble 
Englishman.  A  small  stone,  planted  on 
the  plains  of  Abraham,  tells  the  traveller 
that  "  HERE  WOLFE  DIED  VICTORIOUS."  But 
the  memory  of  Wolfe  requires  neither 
sculptured  art,  nor  lofty  column,  nor  tab 
let  of  stone  :  it  is  fixed  for  ever  in  the 
hearts  of  all  who  love  the  good  and  the 
brave. 

"  Who  the  deuce  was  thinking  of  Que 
bec  ?"  asks  Walpole.  "  America  was  like 
a  book  one  had  read  and  done  with,  or, 
at  least,  if  we  looked  at  the  book,  one 
just  recollected  that  there  was  a  supple 
ment  promised,  to  contain  a  chapter  on 
Montreal,  the  starving  and  surrender  of  it; 
but  here  we  are  on  a  sudden  reading  our 
book  backward.  An  account  came  two 
days  ago"  (Walpole  is  writing  on  the  20th 
June),  "that  the  French,  on  their  march 
to  besiege  Quebec,  had  been  attacked  by 
General  Murray,  who  got  into  a  mistake 
and  a  morass,  attacked  two  bodies  that 
were  joined  when  he  hoped  to  come  up 
with  one  of  them  before  he  was  enclosed, 
enibogged,  and  defeated."  The  gossiping 
Walpole  thus  tells  the  whole  story  in  a 
pleasant  way.  All  we  have  to  add  is 


COLONIAL.] 


AMHERST'S  EXPEDITION. 


133 


1760. 


that  Murray,  who  had  been  left  in 
command,  did  foolishly  march  out 
with  his  small  force  against  De  Levi's 
troops,  ten  thousand  strong,  and  was  beat 
en  back  within  the  walls  of  Quebec,  which 
would  probably  have  fallen,  had  not  a 
British  fleet  arrived,  sailed  up  the  St. 
Lawrence,  and  driven  away  the  French 
besiegers  encamped  upon  its  banks. 

General  Amherst  (now  Sir  Jeffrey  Am- 
herst),  calm,  cautious,  and  slow,  had  moved 
too  deliberately  to  satisfy  the  impulsive 
spirit  of  Wolfe.  He  had,  however — in 
time  to  complete  the  conquest  of  Canada 
—  succeeded  in  concentrating  his  large 
force  of  over  ten  thousand  men,  including 
the  provincials  under  Gage  and  the  In 
dians  led  by  Sir  William  Johnson,  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Ontario,  from  the  waters 
of  which  two  British  ships  had  driven  the 
French  cruisers,  and  forced  them  to  seek 
refuge  in  the  intricate  and  labyrinthine 
channels  of  the  "  Thousand  Isles." 

On  the  7th  of  August,  the  grenadiers 
and  light-troops,  including  a  battalion  of 
Highlanders,  were  sent  forward,  to  post 
themselves  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  where 
the  St.  Lawrence  receives  its  waters. 
On  the  10th,  Amherst  in  person  followed, 
with  the  remainder  of  the  regulars  and 
the  Indians;  but  the  lagging  Gage  did 
not  come  up  with  his  provincials  until 
the  12th,  when  the  whole  army  was  gath 
ered  at  La  Galette,  on  the  banks  of  the 
St.  Lawrence. 

Embarked  once  more,  the  whole  force 
dropped  down  the  river  to  Isle  Royale, 
capturing  on  their  way  a  French  cruiser, 
which  was  spiritedly  attacked  by  some 
soldiers  in  the  whale-boats,  and  gallantly 


Aug.  23 


carried.  Fort  Levi,  on  the  island,  was 
still  in  possession  of  the  enemy,  and, 
though  invested  by  Amherst's 
immense  force,  with  all  the  reg 
ularities  of  a  siege,  and  a  severe  cannon 
ade  opened,  was  so  spiritedly  defended 
by  its  little  garrison,  that  one  of  the  Brit 
ish  vessels  was  obliged  to  strike  her  col 
ors.  Amherst,  checked  by  this  unex 
pected  vigor  on  the  part  of  the  French, 
put  off  the  assault  until  the  next  day. 
In  the  meantime,  the  French  command 
ant,  finding  that  it  was  impossible  to  hold 
out  long  against  the  overwhelming  force 
of  his  assailants,  surrendered  at  discre 
tion. 

When  the  fort  was  given  up,  Johnson's 
Indians,  who  had  been  thirsting  to  wreak 
their  vengeance  upon  the  Frenchmen, 
would  have  begun  their  cruel  work,  had 
not  Amherst,  with  a  noble  humanity,  in 
terposed.  He  immediately  gave  orders 
to  Sir  William  to  deter  the  savages,  if  pos 
sible,  from  their  purpose,  promising  them 
all  the  stores  found  in  the  fort ;  but  warn 
ing  them,  at  the  same  time,  that  if  they 
persisted,  he  would  restrain  them  by  force. 
The  Indians,  in  sullen  submission,  return 
ed  to  their  camp,  but  fiercely  resented 
the  interference ;  and  Sir  William  John 
son  informed  the  general  that  they  would 
probably  quit  the  army.  Amherst  an 
swered  :  "  Although  I  wish  to  retain  their 
friendship,  I  will  not  purchase  it  at  the 
expense  of  countenancing  barbarity  ;  and 
tell  them  that,  if  they  commit  any  acts 
of  cruelty  on  their  return  home  from  the 
army,  I  will  assuredly  chastise  them."* 
The  Indians  left  him,  but  the  humane 

*  Wai-burton. 


134 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  i 


Amherst  won  a  triumph  worth  more  than 
hundreds  of  bloody  victories. 

Levelling  the  captured  works  on  Isle 
Royale,  the  troops  descended  the  stream, 
and  entered  the  turbulent  and  dangerous 
passage  of  the  Cedars.  As  the  heavily- 
laden  boats  got  among  the  broken  rocks 
and  boiling  eddies,  they  were  so  crowd 
ed  and  tossed  together,  that  some  were 
swamped,  and  others  dashed  to  pieces. 
Sixty-four,  laden  with  artillery  and  stores, 
were  in  this  manner  lost,  and  eighty  men 
drowned. 

On  landing  upon  the  island 
of  Montreal,  the  French  retired 
within  the  walls  of  the  city,  and  Amherst 
invested  the  place.  Murray  in  the  mean 
time  had  sailed  from  Quebec,  with  all  the 
disposable  force  which  could  be  spared, 
and  joined  Amherst  on  the  7th  of  Sep 
tember,  with  twenty-four  hundred  and 
fifty  of  the  conquerors  of  Quebec.  Colo- 


t* 


Sept,  8. 


nel  Haviland,  who  had  come  from  Crown 
Point,  arrived  the  next  day  with  another 
body  of  troops,  and  now  upon  the  island 
of  Montreal  were  gathered  sixteen  thou 
sand  British.  The  marquis  de  Vaudreuil, 
who  had  fled  to  Montreal  after  Wolfe's 
conquest  of  Quebec,  now  gave 
up  all  in  despair,  and  signed  a 
capitulation,  by  which  all  Canada  was 
lost  to  France  for  ever. 

After  long  negotiations,  protracted  by 
the  expansive  demands  of  the  imperious 
Pitt,  the  war  between  Great  Britain  and 
France  ceased  with  the  treaty 
of  peace  at  Paris,  in  1763.     The 
French  ministry  yielded  with  reluctance  ; 
and  the  proud  Choiseul,  who  resigned  his 
place,  asked,  despairingly:  "But  what 
can  we  do  ?     The  English  are  furiously 
imperious ;  they  are  drunk  with  success 
and,  unfortunately,  we  are  not  in  a  con 
dition  to  abase  their  pride." 


END     OF     PART     I 


P  A  E  T    IT. 


1775   TO   1783. 


PART  II 


CHAPTER   I. 

Representation  and  Taxation. — Tyranny  of  Great  Britain. — Resistance  of  Massachusetts. — The  Stamp-Act. — The  Tea- 
Party. — Boston  Port-Bill. — Starvation. — General  Gage. — His  Life  and  Character. — Gage's  Proceedings. — His  Seizures. 
— Fortification  of  Boston. — Indignation  and  Vigilance  of  the  Patriots. — Secret  Designs  discovered. — March  on  Con 
cord. — The  Struggle. — Lexington. — The  Conflict. — The  Excitement  throughout  the  Country. — The  Return  of  the 
British  toward  Boston. — Galled  by  the  Patriots. 


1774, 


"  THEY  say  you  have  no  right  to 
tax  them  without  their  consent. 
They  say  truly.  Representation  and  tax 
ation  must  go  together :  they  are  insepa 
rable."*  This  was  the  American  cause  : 
Representation  and  taxation  must  go  together 
—  a  cause  which  the  colonists,  almost 
with  one  voice,  had  now  determined  to 
seal  with  their  blood.  British  Tyranny 
resolved  to  force  submission.  American 
Liberty  determined  to  oppose  resistance. 
The  struggle  began.  Battles  were  fought, 
and  continued  to  be  fought,  until  inde 
pendence  was  won.  These  it  is  our  pur 
pose  to  record,  to  which  we  shall  proceed 
now  without  further  preface. 

General  Thomas  Gage, having  been  ap 
pointed  captain-general  and  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  was  now  at  Boston,  in 
command  of  the  British  troops ;  while 
English  men-of-war  floated  threateningly 
in  the  harbor.  He  hid  been  selected  by 
the  government  of  Great  Britain  to  en- 

*  Earl  Chatham's  speech  in  the  house  of  lords. 
18 


force,  by  threats  if  possible,  by  violence 
if  necessary,  the  obedience  of  New  Eng 
land  to  the  tyrannical  edicts  of  the  moth 
er-country.  The  people  of  Massachusetts 
had  been  the  first  —  although  the  other 
colonies  showed  the  same  spirit  of  inde 
pendence —  to  resist,  by  overt  act,  the 
tyrannical  exercise  of  British  authority. 
They,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
people  of  the  provinces,  had  contented 
themselves  with  opposing,  by  petition 
and  protest,  the  stamp-act ;  and,  on  its 
repeal,  only  exhibited  their  spirit  of  in 
dependence  by  a  burst  of  joy.  The  ex 
ultation  of  these  lovers  of  liberty  was, 
however,  soon  vexed  into  the  excitement 
of  passionate  resistance  by  other  tyran 
nical  acts  of  Great  Britain.  The  colonists 
now,  almost  with  one  voice,  determined 
upon  retaliation.  They  would  punish  the 
mother-country  by  not  consuming  her 
products,  and  thus  weaken  her  strength 
by  diminishing  her  revenue.  Great  Brit 
ain,  in  spite  of  her  suffering  trade  and 


138 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


commerce,  and  the  urgent  appeals  of  her 
men  of  business  to  change  her  odious  co 
lonial  policy,  madly  persisted.,  and  strove 
to  compel  where  she  had  failed  to  per 
suade. 

An  effort  was  made  to  force  upon  the 
colonies  the  consumption  of  tea.  A  cargo 
arrived  at  Boston.  A  "tea-party"  was 
formed,  composed  of  fifty  men — "very 
dark-complexioned  persons,  dressed  like 
Mohawks,  of  very  grotesque  appearance." 
With  an  Indian  whoop,  these  Bostonians 
— and  "solid  men"  they  were  —  rushed 
to  the  wharf,  boarded  the  ships,  and  in 
the  course  of  two  hours  threw  into  the 
river  three  hundred  and  forty-two  chests 
of  tea.  This  was  no  impulsive  act  of  riot, 
but  the  deliberate  proceeding  of  men  of 
determined  character,  appointed  to  carry 
out  the  calm  resolutions  of  their  fellow- 
townsmen. 

The  tea-proceeding,  when  heard  of  in 
England,  was  received  with  applause  by 
the  friends  of  liberty,  and  with  indigna 
tion  by  the  government  and  its  favorites. 
Tyranny  now  suggested  an  act  of  oppres 
sion  as  a  punishment  for  those  who  had 
dared  to  disobey  its  caprices.  It  was 
readily  acceded  to,  with  the  object  of  re 
ducing  the  people  of  Boston  to  "  starva 
tion" — a  word  then  first  coined,  in  the 
British  Parliament,  by  a  tory  member, 
whose  inveteracy  of  hate  could  find  no 
expression  in  the  English  language  suffi 
ciently  strong  to  bear  the  impress  of  his 
cruel  purpose.  The  punishment  of  Bos 
ton  came  in  the  form  of  the  "  Boston  pori> 
bill,"  the  object  of  which  was  to  deprive 
the  refractory  town  of  its  privileges  and 
rights  as  a  place  of  commerce.  Gage 


and  his  British  soldiers  were  now  on  the 
spot  to  carry  that  bill  into  execution. 

Gage  had  proved  himself  a  gallant  sol 
dier  in  the  unfortunate  campaign  of  Brad- 
dock  ;  but  he  was  nothing  else  than  a 
soldier,  with  all  the  decided  sentiments 
in  favor  of  absolute  authority  engendered 
by  a  long  military  life.  lie  was,  more 
over,  a  thorough  aristocrat  in  feeling,  and 
a  tory  by  political  association.  He  did 
not  understand  what  "the  mob"  (as  he 
called  the  people),  as  long  as  they  had 
enough  work,  and  could  eat  and  drink 
abundantly,  had  to  do  with  political  prin 
ciples.  Their  whole  public  duty,  he  be 
lieved,  was  obedience.  To  govern,  or 
even  to  say  who  wras  to  govern,  wras  not 
their  vocation.  Gage,  however,  should 
have  learned  something  of  the  character 
of  the  American  colonists.  He  had  been 
a  good  deal  among  them,  and  had  mar 
ried  a  native  lady  of  New  York.  But, 
nevertheless,  he  did  not  understand  them, 
and  seemed  as  unconscious  as  the  khan 
of  Tartary  of  the  devotion  of  Americans 
to  liberty,  and  of  their  resolute  firmness 
to  defend  it  against  any  oppressor.  His 
associations  in  the  colonies  were  too  much 
with  the  loyalists,  who  were  always  fawn 
ing  about  royal  governors,  and  whisper 
ing  into  their  ears  what  wrould  flattering 
ly  exaggerate  the  self-importance  of  the 
dignitary,  and  contemptuously  depreci 
ate  "  the  rabble."  In  New  York  he  had 
found  among  his  kindred,  and  the  pre 
tentious  aristocracy  of  its  tory  society,  a 
more  obsequious  courtiership  than  ever 
licked  royal  hands  at  the  court  of  St. 
James.  He  was  now  in  Puritan  New 
England  ;  and  while  among  his  own  suite. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CHARACTER  OF  GAGE. 


139 


and  surrounded  by  a  few  exceptional 
Massachusetts  tories,  he  did  not  seem  to 
be  conscious  of  the  difference  in  his  po 
sition.  He  took  no  account  of  the  great 
body  of  the  Puritan  people,  who  had 
learned  from  their  ancestors,  under  the 
orders  of  Cromwell,  and  the  teachings  of 
Milton,  those  principles  of  liberty  which 
they  carried  with  them  to  America,  and 
taught  their  children  not  only  to  vener 
ate,  but  to  guard,  at  all  hazards  of  life 
or  fortune,  against  the  oppressor. 

It  was  claimed  for  Gage  that  he  was  a 
man  naturally  frank,  and  of  a  gay,  social 
disposition.  This  he  may  have  been, 
among  those  he  considered  his  "  equals," 
but  to  his  "inferiors"  he  was  haughty 
and  arrogant.  He  was,  in  fact,  in  every 
thing  except  capacity,  a  perfect  instru 
ment  to  compel  "  a  full  and  absolute  sub 
mission"  to  the  tyrannical  acts  of  his  mas 
ters.  With  his  British  troops  to  back 
him,  he  did  not  hesitate  at  fulfilling  the 
most  cruel  purpose  of  despotism. 

Gage,  in  common  with  most  British 
officers  and  many  British  statesmen,  held 
the  colonial  opposition  in  great  contempt. 
The  American  leaders  were,  in  his  opin 
ion,  without  capacity,  their  followers  with 
out  courage.  While  he  thus  increased 
the  hostility  against  him,  he  diminished 
his  power  of  resistance.  Gage  never  just 
ly  appreciated  the  sentiments  or  rightly 
measured  the  strength  of  his  enemies.:i: 
While  the  Americans  declared — "No  dan 
ger  shall  affright,  no  difficulties  shall  in 
timidate  us ;  and  if,  in  support  of  our 

*  "  General  Gage,  in  his  private  letters,  encouraged  the 
ministers  to  be  firm,  and  that  if  they  would  be  so,  they  would 
prevail." — WALPOLE. 


rights,  we  are  called  to  encounter  even 
death,  we  are  yet  undaunted,  sensible 
that  he  can  never  die  too  soon  who  lays 
down  his  life  in  support  of  the  laws  and 
liberties  of  his  country" — Gage  called 
the  authors  of  these  heroic  resolves  "  a 
despicable  rabble,"  and  undertook  to  keep 
them  quiet  with  five  regiments,  saying, 
"  The  Americans  will  be  lions  only  as  long 
as  the  English  are  lambs !"  So,  too,  a 
Colonel  Grant,  who  until  then  was  only 
known  in  America  by  his  folly — which 
had  nearly  ruined  the  expedition  under 
Forbes  against  Fort  Du  Quesne — now, 
with  the  attempted  wisdom  of  a  counsel 
lor,  declared  that  the  Americans  were 
cowards.  "With  five  regiments,"  said 
this  braggadocio  to  the  assembled  Parlia 
ment  of  England, "  I  could  march  through 
all  America."  Truth,  however,  was  burst 
ing  from  the  eloquent  lips  of  Lord  Chat 
ham  almost  at  the  same  moment  and 
within  the  same  walls :  "  My  lords,"  said 
the  great  orator,  "there  are  three  mil 
lions  of  whigs.  Three  millions  of  whigs. 
my  lords,  with  arms  in  their  hands,  are 
a  very  formidable  body."  But  English 
Tyranny  closed  its  ears  and  eyes  to  truth, 
and  rushed  recklessly  on  to  destruction. 
The  king  said  loudly,  and  with  a  scornful 
laugh,  that  "  he  had  as  lief  fight  the  Bos- 
tonians  as  the  French." — "  Corruption," 
wrote  Walpole  in  England,  "  smiled,  and 
was  not  afraid  of  swords  at  such  a  dis 
tance." 

On  the  first  day  of  the  operation  of  the 
"  Boston  pori^bill,"  the  people  contented 
themselves  with  signifying  their 

o         »/        o 

affliction  at  this  invasion  of  their 
rights  by  tolling  their  church-bells,  by 


140 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


TART    li 


Augusti 


fasting  and  prayer,  and  by  hanging  their 
houses  and  public  buildings  with  crape. 
It  was  not  until  those  further  acts  of  the 
British  Parliament — which  virtually  de 
stroyed  the  charter  of  Massachusetts — 
deprived  the  people  of  the  right  of  pub 
lic  meetings,  thus  cutting  away  the  scaf 
folding  of  English  freedom,  and  interfered 
with  the  trial  by  jury,  that  an  armed  re 
sistance  was  determined  upon.  A  meet 
ing  was  held  at  Faneuil  hall,  composed 
of  delegates  from  various  parts  of 
Massachusetts.  It  was  by  them 
resolved  that  "  a  provincial  Congress  is 
necessary  to  counteract  the  systems  of 
despotism,  and  that,  as  a  necessary  means 
to  secure  the  rights  of  the  people,  the 
military  art  ought  to  be  attentively  prac 
tised."  A  provincial  Congress  was  ac 
cordingly  held ;  the  militia  mustered,  and, 
arming  themselves,  prepared  for  resistr 
ance. 

Gage,  not  satisfied  with  dissolving  meet 
ings  at  Boston  with  his  soldiers,  seized 
the  artillery  and  ammunition  which  be 
longed  to  the  city,  and  thus  greatly  ex 
cited  the  indignation  of  the  townspeople. 
The  seizure  of  the  powder  was  magnified, 
by  the  excited  imaginations  of  the  Mas 
sachusetts  men,  into  a  cannonade  of  Bos 
ton  ;  and  the  neighboring  colonists  began 
to  ring  their  alarm-bells,  light  up  the  bea 
con-fires,  and  hurry  in  armed  crowds  to  the 
scene  of  the  supposed  danger.  Gage  him 
self  became  anxious,  and  wrote  to  the  gov 
ernment  at  home  that  "  the  flames  of  se 
dition  had  spread  universally  throughout 
the  country,  beyond  conception ;"  that 
"  civil  government  was  near  its  end  ;"  and 
that  "  the  time  for  conciliation,  rnodera- 


1775, 


tion,  reasoning,  was  over."  Nothing  now, 
he  believed,  could  be  done  but  by  force, 
and  this  he  resolved  upon  using.  "  The 
torrent  should  be  stemmed,  not  yielded 
to."*  The  Massachusetts  people  were,  in 
their  turn,  making  preparations  for  the 
struggle,  by  disciplining  their  militia,  and 
collecting  together  their  arms  and  am 
munition. 

Gage,  strengthened  by  addition 
al  troops,  had  fortified  Boston  neck, 
and  turned  the  city  into  a  camp,  where 
his  four  thousand  men  stacked  their  guns 
in  Faneuil  hall,  and  converted  the  church 
es  into  mess-rooms.  He  now  decided  up 
on  a  movement,  by  which  he  hoped  to 
overwhelm  the  Massachusetts  men,  and 
put  an  end  to  their  means  of  mischief. 
His  plan  was,  to  take  the  colonists  by 
surprise,  and  destroy  their  magazine  of 
arms  and  ammunition  at  Concord,  some 
eighteen  miles  from  Boston.  Gage  em 
ployed  every  possible  means  to  keep  his 
purpose  secret.  He  sent  out  his  officers 
in  disguise  to  make  sketches,  and  to  bring 
back  reports  of  the  position  of  Concord, 
its  strength,  and  the  various  approaches 
to  the  place.  He  also  determined,  in  or 
der  to  further  conceal  his  design,  to  make 
the  attack  under  the  cover  of  the  night. 

The  patriots  were  vigilant,  and  became 
conscious  of  Gage's  movements.  They 
accordingly  strengthened  their  guard  at 
Concord,and  removed  some  of  their  stores 
secretly  to  other  places.  Gage  continued 

*  Gage  was,  however,  seemingly  not  without  some  sense 
of  discretion,  for  Walpole  records :  "  It  was  said,  on  Gen 
eral  Gage  receiving  orders  to  sei/e  and  send  over  hither  the 
chief  patriots,  he  had  for  answer  that,  should  he  attempt  to 
do  any  such  thing,  that  would  be  the  last  letter  the  .  vould 
ever  receive  from  him,  for  he  should  be  knocked  on  the 
head." 


.REVOLUTIONARY.] 


HANCOCK  AND  ADAMS. 


141 


his  preparations,  but  each  act  of  his  was 
watched  closely  by  the  alert  patriots;  and, 
seeing  the  boats  one  night  launched  and 

moored  under  the  sterns  of  the 
April  15, 

British  men-ot-war,  took  care  to 

send  intelligence  of  the  fact  to  Concord. 
A  few  days  after,  some  English  officers 
were  sent  out  on  the  roads  leading  from 
Boston,  to  prevent  any  messengers  going 
out  to  carry  information  of  the  proposed 
expedition. 

The  night  finally  arrived.  When  elev 
en  o'clock  struck,  some  nine  hun 
dred  of  the  choicest  of  the  Brit 
ish  troops,  under  the  command  of  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Smith,  embarked  in  small 
boats  at  the  foot  of  Boston  common,  and, 
landing  near  Lechmere  point,began  their 
silent  march  to  Concord. 

The  patriots,  however,  were  on  the 
alert.  Warren,  the  Boston  physician — 
whose  whole  soul  was  in  the  cause,  and 
who  was  one  of  the  most  active  members 
of  the  committee  of  safety — had  already 
sent  messengers  to  his  friends  at  Concord; 
and  when  the  British  embarked,  he  or 
dered  the  lantern,  which  was  agreed  up 
on  as  the  signal,  to  be  hoisted  from  the 
steeple  of  the  North  church  in  Boston. 
Gage,  much  to  his  surprise,  discovered 
that  his  secret  was  known.  Having  com 
municated  his  design  in  the  evening  to 
Lord  Percy,  that  officer  retired,  and  was 
on  his  way  to  his  quarters,  when,  crossing 
the  common,  he  fell  in  with  a  group  of 
citizens  in  earnest  conversation,  in  the 
course  of  which  one  was  heard  to  say, 
"The  British  troops  have  marched,  but 
will  miss  their  aim!"  —  "What  aim?" 
asked  his  lordship.  "  Why.  the  cannon 


at  Concord,"  was  the  answer.  Percy  re 
turned  at  once  to  Gage,  and  told  what 
he  had  heard,  when  orders  were  immedi 
ately  issued  that  no  person  should  be  al 
lowed  to  leave  the  town.  It  was,  how 
ever,  too  late :  the  vigilant  Warren  had 
already  despatched  a  couple  of  messen 
gers,  and  given  orders  for  the  hoisting  of 
the  warning  lantern. 

The  whole  country  was  aroused.  The 
town  of  Lexington,  through  which  the 
road  to  Concord  passed,  was  especially 
on  the  alert ;  and  its  minute-men,  to  the 
number  of  about  a  hundred  and  thirty, 
turned  out  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
and  were  assembled  together  on  the  com 
mon  until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
with  their  guns  "  loaded  with  powder  and 
ball."  At  this  time  a  messenger  returned, 
with  the  word  that  no  troops  had  yet 
shown  themselves  on  the  road.  Accord 
ingly,  as  the  morning  was  chilly,  the  men 
were  dismissed  to  a  neighboring  tavern, 
with  orders  to  make  their  appearance 
on  the  first  sound  of  the  drum.  The 
tAvo  messengers,  who  had  been  sent  on  to 
give  Concord  the  alarm,  were  met  by  a 
party  of  British  officers,  when  a  scuffle 
ensued,  and  one  of  the  patriots  was  taken 
prisoner ;  while  the  other  succeeded  in 
escaping  by  leaping  a  stone-wall,  and, 
running  off,  made  his  way  to  the  place 
where  Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams  had 
temporarily  concealed  themselves. 

These  two,  Hancock  and  Adams,  both 
men  of  distinction  in  Boston,  had  early 
made  themselves  conspicuous  as  earnest 
friends  of  the  popular  cause  ;  and,  as  theii 
safety  was  regarded  as  of  the  utmost  im 
portance,  they  were  induced  to  hide  them 


142 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


selves  from  observation,  lest  they  should 
be  taken  prisoners  by  the  British.  Dor 
othea  Quincy,  Hancock's  betrothed,  in 
sisted  upon  accompanying  them,  and  she 
was  now  with  the  two  patriots ;  and  the 
three  were  sitting  down  to  an  "  elegant 
dinner"  at  the  house  of  a  friend,  when 
suddenly  a  man  broke  in  upon  them  with 
a  shriek,  and  the  alarm  was  given  that 
the  regulars  were  upon  them.  Hancock 
and  Adams  were  then  led  along  a  cart- 
way  to  another  and  more  humble  house, 
where  they  were  glad  to  make  up  for 
their  lost  spread  of  good  things,  by  a  dish 
of  "  salt  pork  and  potatoes." 

In  the  meantime,  the  British  troops, 
under  LieutenantrColonel  Smith,  were 
fast  approaching.  The  route  they  had 
taken  led  them  through  a  morass,  into 
which  the  men  plunged  waist-deep  until 
they  reached  the  high-road  to  Charles- 
town.  Their  midnight  march  was  cau 
tious  and  stealthy ;  not  a  drum  was  al 
lowed  to  beat,  nor  a  fife  to  sound.  Some 
members  of  the  provincial  Congress,  stop 
ping  at  a  roadside  inn,  where  they  had 
been  holding  a  "rebel"  conclave,  aware 
of  the  approach  of  the  troops,  were  up, 
and  silently  watching  the  soldiers  as  they 
carne  on.  The  front  ranks  passed  by 
steadily,  but  with  measured  tread.  The 
centre,  however,  no  sooner  reached  a 
point  opposite  to  the  tavern,  than  there 
was  a  halt ;  and,  directly,  an  officer  and 
a  file  of  men  were  seen  advancing  to  the 
house.  But  the  "  rebels"  were  too  quick 
for  them;  and,  while  the  soldiers  were 
ransacking  the  tavern,  those  of  whom 
they  were  in  search  were  in  a  field  hard 
by,  securely  hid  from  their  pursuers. 


The  British  commander  soon  discov 
ered  that  all  the  precautions  which  had 
been  taken  to  keep  the  expedition  a  se 
cret  had  failed.  Although  it  was  night, 
the  whole  country  was  aroused.  Every 
church  was  ringing  its  bells,  beacon-fires 
were  blazing,  and  signal-guns  firing.  The 
British  officers  who  had  been  on  the  road, 
on  a  tour  of  observation,  now  joined  the 
troops,  and  reported  that  at  least  five 
hundred  of  the  "  rebels"  were  in  arms,  in 
readiness  for  the  attack.  Smith  sent  Ma 
jor  Pitcairn  forward  with  six  companies 
of  light-infantry,  to  secure  the  bridges  at 
Concord ;  and  an  orderly  back  to  Gage, 
at  Boston,  for  a  reinforcement.  Pitcairn 
pressed  on  hurriedly,  only  stopping  on 
the  road  to  capture  any  straggler  he 
could  pick  up.  One  man,  however,  was 
too  much  on  the  alert  to  be  caught ;  for. 
getting  a  glimpse  of  the  British  coming 
up  the  road,  he  turned  his  horse,  and, 
laying  on  his  whip,  galloped  into  Lexing 
ton,  with  the  news  that  the  "red-coats" 
were  at  hand. 

Captain  Parker  ordered  his  drums  to 
beat,  and  alarm-guns  to  be  fired  immedi 
ately;  and  soon  the  minute-men  began 
to  turn  out  and  to  muster  on  the  ground 
about  the  meetinghouse.  These  men 
formed  a  part  of  that  resolute  band — 
"the  constitutional  army" — which  had 
been  authorized  to  make  a  forcible  and 
regular  resistance  to  any  hostility  by  the 
British  soldiery ;  and  there  they  were 
ready  to  do  their  country's  bidding.  Be 
fore  they  had  fairly  mustered  and  formed, 
the  British  were  in  sight,  at  a  short  dis 
tance  from  the  ground. 

Pitcairn,  seeing  the   assemblage,  and 


REVOLUTION  ART.] 


BLOOD  FLOWS  AT  LEXINGTON. 


14* 


hearing  the  drums  of  the  patriots,  halted 
his  troops  and  ordered  them  to  load.  He 
then  brought  them  on  in  double  quick 
time.  Some  sixty  or  seventy  only  of  the 
minute-men  had  mustered  and  found  time 
to  present  an  orderly  rank  in  front,  when 
the  regulars  rushed  forward,  shouting., 
with  their  commander  at  their  head,  wa 
ving  his  sword,  and  crying  out :  "  Ye  vil 
lains  !  ye  rebels!  disperse!  Lay  down 
your  arms!  Why  don't  you  lay  down 
your  arms  ?"  Two  or  three  shots  were 
now  fired,  but  without  effect.  Then  en 
sued  a  general  volley,  by  which  some  of 
the  minute-men  were  killed  and  wound 
ed.  Their  fellow-patriots  now  no  longer 
withheld  their  fire,  which  they  had  hith 
erto  done  in  obedience  to  the  command 
of  Parker,  their  captain.  Their  shots, 
however,  were  straggling,  and  did  little 
damage,  only  wounding  two  of  the  pri 
vates  and  the  horse  of  the  British  major. 
The  regulars  fired  with  much  greater  ef 
fect,  killing  eight,  wounding  ten,  and  put 
ting  the  rest  to  flight.  One  daring  fellow, 
who  had  always  said  "he  never  would 
run  from  the  British,"  though  wounded, 
stood  his  ground,  and,  while  loading  his 
piece,  was  thrust  through  and  through  by 
a  bayonet,  and  died  on  the  spot  where 
he  had  so  firmly  planted  himself.  An 
other  was  pursued  to  the  road  facing  the 
common,  and  was  struck  down  by  a  shot 
within  view  of  his  own  house.  The  blood 
was  gushing  from  his  breast,  but  he  start 
ed  up,  and  stretching  out  his  hands  tow 
ard  his  wife,  who  was  at  the  window, 
staggered  a  moment,  and  fell  again. 
Striving  once  more  to  stand,  he  could 
only  succeed  in  raising  himself  upon  his 


hands  and  knees,  and  thus  crawled  tow 
ard  the  door  of  his  dwelling.  His  wife 
was  there  to  meet  him,  but  only  to  see 
him  dying  at  her  feet. 

The  British  now  formed  on  the  com 
mon,  and,  exulting  in  their  "  victory,"  fired 
a  feu-de-joie,  gave  three  loud  huzzas,  and 
marched  on  toward  Concord.  There  were 
two  thoughtful  observers  of  this  Lexing 
ton  affair,  in  a  house  near  by,  who  could 
have  told  the  British  that  this  was  no 
time  for  exultation.  They  knew,  with 
the  foresight  of  wisdom,  that  no  defeat, 
ever  suffered  by  English  troops,  was  so 
disastrous  as  this  "  victory."  Samuel  Ad 
ams  and  John  Hancock  saAV,  in  the  blood 
which  flowed  at  Lexington,  that  which 
was  to  cement  the  colonies  into  an  indis 
soluble  union,  and  thus  secure  a  founda 
tion  upon  which  to  establish  the  great 
hope  of  their  patriotic  hearts  —  the  inde 
pendence  of  America.  "  Oh,  what  a  glo 
rious  morning  is  this  !"  exclaimed  Adams, 
as  he  walked  abroad ;  for,  although  his 
countrymen  were  falling,  and  he  and  his 
companion  were  driven  from  home  and 
fortune  by  the  cruelty  of  tyrants,  he  saw 
that  that  morning  wrould  be  "glorious" 
for  all  time,  as  the  first  gleam  of  the  per 
petual  light  of  American  liberty. 

The  provincials,  though  put  to  flight, 
did  not  lose  heart.  Some  retreated  along 
the  road,  but  the  most  gathered  again  on 
a  height  to  the  north  of  the  Lexington 
common,  formed  readily  under  their  lead 
er,  and  eagerly  awaited  his  orders  to  go 
when  and  where  their  country  required 
their  services.  The  British,  once  again  on 
the  road  to  Concord,  were  joined  by  the 
rest  of  the  troops,  under  their  colonel. 


144 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  n 


Concord,  as  it  appeared  in  those  days, 
was  a  town  covering  considerable  space, 
between  two  hills  which  completely  com 
manded  it.  It  had  its  church,  jail,  and 
courthouse;  and  its  dwellings,  though  not 
very  numerous,  were  scattered  over  a 
large  expanse  of  ground.  Through  the 
town  winds  sluggishly  the  Concord  river, 
which  was  crossed  by  two  bridges,  the 
north  and  the  south,  as  they  wTere  called. 
The  British  had  determined  to  possess 
themselves  of  these  bridges,  so  that  they 
might  cut  off  all  approach  to  the  town, 
while  they  should  be  engaged  in  destroy 
ing  the  magazines  and  military  stores 
there  collected  and  guarded  by  the  pro 
vincials. 

The  town,  however,  was  on  the  alert. 
The  people  had  been  timely  warned,  and, 
when  they  heard  of  the  skirmish  at  Lex 
ington,  were  roused  to  fierce  indignation. 
The  militia  were  for  marching  immedi 
ately  to  meet  the  British  on  the  road, 
and  they  accordingly  started  ;  but,  on  dis 
covering  that  the  numbers  of  the  enemy 
amounted  to  treble  their  own  force,  they 
fell  back  and  took  up  their  position  on  a 
high  ground  which  rises  to  the  north,  not 
far  from  the  centre  of  the  town.  There 
they  stood,  around  the  liberty-pole  lately 
raised,  and  awaited  the  approach  of  those 
who  came  as  determined  enemies  to  that 
freedom  of  which  it  was  the  emblem. 

Concord  was  but  six  miles  distant  from 
Lexington ;  and  it  was  still  early  when 
the  British  troops  carne  marching  in,  with 

drums  beating,  fla^s  flying  and 
Aoril  19 

with  the  light  of  the  morning 

sun  reflected  glitteringly  upon  their  pol 
ished  guns  and  gilded  accoutrements. 


Many  of  the  militia  were  for  giving 
fight  at  once  ;  but  their  commander,  Colo 
nel  Barrett,  checked  their  reckless  enthu 
siasm,  and  prudently  withdrew  his  men 
when  the  enemy  were  seen  advancing, 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  Barrett  con 
ducted  his  force  along  the  road  which  led 
to  the  north  bridge,  and,  having  crossed 
the  Concord  river,  drew  them  up  on  the 
high  ground  about  a  mile  from  the  cen 
tre  of  the  town. 

On  the  British  now  coming  up,  one  di 
vision  posted  itself  on  the  hill  just  left 
by  the  provincials,  arid  the  rest  of  the 
troops  continued  their  march  along  the 
main  road  until  they  reached  the  centre 
of  the  town.  The  enemy  now  began 
their  work.  Two  hundred  men  were  de 
tached  to  hold  the  north  bridge,  and  pre 
vent  the  advance  of  the  militia ;  another 
party  took  possession  of  the  south  bridge. 
The  rest  of  the  troops  were  occupied  in 
carrying  out  the  especial  object  of  their 
visit.  Some  were  sent  to  the  house  of 
Barrett,  the  militia-colonel,  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  town,  to  destroy  the  military 
stores  concealed  there.  The  remainder 
went  about  their  work  of  destruction  in 
the  town  itself.  Threescore  or  less  of 
barrels  of  flour  were  staved  in,  three  can 
non  were  spiked  and  otherwise  maltreat 
ed,  some  sixteen  carriage-wheels  were 
burnt  to  cinders,  three  or  four  barrelsful 
of  wooden  spoons  reduced  to  ashes,  the 
liberty-pole  felled,  the  courthouse  set  on 
fire,  but  put  out  by  a  woman  with  a  pail 
of  water,  and  half  a  thousand  iron  balls 
rolled  into  the  river.  "  These,"  says  Gor 
don,  "  were  all  the  stores  they  could  dis 
cover  and  destroy ;  on  the  account  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.} 


STRUGGLE  ON  CONCORD  BRIDGE. 


145 


which  a  civil  war  has  commenced  be 
tween  the  colonies  and  the  parent-state. 
The  inhabitants  of  Britain  may  see  rea 
son,  for  many  ages,  to  cnrse  the  memory 
of  the  man  or  men  who  has  or  have  been 
at  the  foundation  of  this  fatal  catastrophe, 
should  they  ever  be  known."  While  the 
British  troops  were  thus  occupied  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  the  provincials  were  not 
less  busy. 

The  neighboring  towns  and  country, 
fully  alive  to  the  doings  of  the  English 
soldiery,  began  to  send  in  their  "  minute- 
men,"  as  the  militia  were  called,  until  the 
force  of  patriots  on  the  hill  numbered 
nearly  five  hundred.  These,  in  addition 
to  the  Lexington  people,  were  composed 
of  men  from  Carlisle,  Chemlsford,  West- 
ford,  Littleton,  and  Acton.  They  were 
farmers,  tradesmen,  mechanics,  from  six 
teen  years  of  age  to  sixty,  who  came  in 
with  their  guns  with  which  they  had  oft 
en  followed  the  Indian,  the  bear,  and  the 
wolf;  and  many  of  them  were  dressed  in 
the  homespun  suits  which  had  been  wo 
ven  at  their  own  winter  firesides.  Even 
the  clergy  presented  themselves,  and,  al 
though  debarred  by  their  calling  from 
active  hostilities,  did  what  they  could  in 
giving  advice  to  the  men,  and  quieting 
the  alarms  of  the  women  and  children. 

The  militia-officers  joined  in  council, 
when  it  was  proposed  to  dislodge  the  en 
emy  from  the  north  bridge.  One  ardent 
captain  declared  that  he  "hadn't  a  man 
that  was  afraid  to  go."  The  British  sol 
diers  could  be  easily  seen,  and  their  do 
ings  were  watched  with  painful  anxiety. 
As  the  fires  began  to  blaze,  and  it  was 
observed  that  the  meetinghouse  had  al- 

19 


ready  caught,  the  people  began  to  fear 
for  their  town  and  their  homes.  The 
militia  were  eager  to  rush  to  their  res 
cue  ;  and  accordingly,  without  more  ado, 
Colonel  Barrett  ordered  his  men  to  the 
north  bridge,  and  to  strive  to  pass  it,  but 
not  to  fire  a  shot  unless  they  were  first  at 
tacked.  In  double  file,  and  with  trailed 
arms,  the  detachment  moved  on. 

The  British  on  the  bridge,  observing 
the  advance  of  the  provincials,  retired  to 
the  east  side  of  the  river,  and  began  to 
remove  the  planks.  The  American  ma 
jor  in  command  of  the  militia,  as  he  ap 
proached,  cried  out  to  the  enemy  to  stop 
doing  what  he  claimed  they  had  no  right 
to  do,  and  hurried  on  his  men  to  prevent 
it.  When  the  provincials  had  reached 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  bridge,  the  Britr 
ish  troops  began  to  fire,  but  with  no  effect, 
as  but  few  guns  were  let  off,  and  with  no 
fixed  aim.  A  second  and  fuller  volley 
succeeded,  and  with  a  different  result, 
killing  two  of  the  provincials  and  wound 
ing  a  third.  Their  captain  now  cried  out, 
"  Fire,  fellow-soldiers !  for  God's  sake,  fire !" 
when  his  men,  true  to  the  word,  did  fire, 
and  brought  down  a  number  of  the  ene 
my.  The  British  then  fled,  and  the  pro 
vincials  after  them,  when  a  thoughtless 
lad,  coming  up  with  a  wounded  grena 
dier,  struck  him  on  the  head  and  dashed 
out  his  brains. 

The  provincials  did  not  continue  their 
pursuit  far ;  but,  dividing,  one  party  went 
back  with  their  dead  and  wounded,  while 
the  rest  proceeded  on  the  road  and  took 
up  their  position  on  a  height  which  over 
looked  it.  Smith,  the  British  colonel, 
now  gathered  together  his  force,  and  pre- 


146 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_>'AET    II. 


pared  to  return  to  Boston,  but  lingered 
at  Concord  nearly  two  hours  before  he 
commenced  his  march.  This  delay  near 
ly  proved  the  total  destruction  of  his 
whole  force. 

All  the  country  round  was  now  in  a 
state  of  great  excitement,  and  every  man 
was  eager  to  rush  to  the  rescue  of  the 
patriot  cause.  Each  village  was  alive 
with  preparation.  All  the  inhabitants 
turned  out,  and  there  was  hardly  a  man 
under  seventy  and  above  sixteen  years 
of  age  who  did  not  shoulder  his  musket 
and  present  himself  for  parade  on  the 
church  green.  Thence,  after  a  blessing 
from  their  pastor,  they  were  marched  off 
to  the  scene  of  action.  Although  the 
most  were  fresh  from  their  farms  and 
shops,  and  knew  little  of  military  disci 
pline  but  what  they  had  learned  in  an  oc 
casional  militia  muster,  there  were  among 
them  some  gray-headed  veterans  who  had 
fought  at  Louisburg  and  Quebec.  They 
were  all,  however,  more  or  less  familiar 
with  the  use  of  firearms,  and  had  become 
practised  shots  in  pursuit  of  the  game 
which  abounded  in  the  yet  uncleared 
foresi>wilds.  With  a  sober  determination 
to  make  the  cause  of  their  country  a  ho 
ly  one,  each  man  dwelt  with  pertinacious 
conscientiousness  upon  the  fact  that "  the 
regulars  had  fired  the  first."  The  blow 
having  been  given,  they  all  prepared  to 
return  it.  None  now  talked  of  forbear 
ance  or  peace.  Every  voice  was  urgent 
for  war. 

It  was  mid-day  before  the  British  colo 
nel  began  his  march,  and  he  was  soon 
convinced  of  and  greatly  startled  by  the 
hubbub  he  had  created  throughout  the 


country.  So  full  were  the  roads  and  hill 
sides  of  the  armed  provincials,  that  it  ap 
peared  to  the  British  as  if  "men  had 
dropped  from  the  clouds."  Smith  threw 
out  a  flank-guard  on  the  side  of  the  main 
road,  to  protect  his  march ;  but  in  the 
woods,  on  each  hill,  and  behind  every 
wall,  there  were  gathered  the  vigilant 
provincials,  who  with  a  sure  aim  were 
bringing  down  a  British  soldier  at  every 
step.  The  enemy  suffered  terribly  as 
they  advanced  for  miles  between  two 
fires,  which  were  incessant  from  both 
sides  of  the  road.  The  British  quickened 
their  march  almost  to  a  run,  but  this 
only  served  to  hasten  their  death,  as  they 
offered  themselves  more  rapidly  to  the 
successive  shots  of  the  American  marks 
men.  Smith,  the  British  colonel,  was  se 
verely  wounded  ;  and  another  officer,  on 
a  fine  blood-horse,  while  brandishing  his 
sword  and  urging  on  his  men,  was  killed 
by  a  shot  from  behind  a  rail-fence.  As 
his  rider  fell  dead,  the  horse  ran  in  his 
fright  toward  the  fence,  leaped  it,  and 
joined  the  provincials.  Just  as  the  troops 
were  hastening  into  Lexington,  one  of 
the  British  soldiers  lagged  behind,  and, 
falling  in  writh  a  militia-man,  levelled  his 
musket  and  cried  out,  "You're  a  dead 
man!" — "So  are  you!"  was  the  answer. 
Both  fired  at  the  same  instant,  and  both 
were  killed. 

The  British  troops,  thus  constantly 
galled  by  this  incessant  and  most  fatal 
fire  along  the  road,  began  to  lose  all  self- 
command,  and,  as  they  approached  Lex 
ington,  became  so  confused  and  disor 
dered  by  their  suffering  and  despair,  that 
they  would  have  fled  precipitately,  had 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


PERCY  TO  THE  RESCUE. 


147 


not  their  officers  placed  themselves  in 
front,  and  threatened  the  men  with  in 
stant  death  if  they  moved  without  or 


ders.  At  this  moment  a  welcome  relief 
presented  itself,  in  a  reinforcement  from 
Boston. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Lord  Perry  to  the  Rescue. — Dancing  to  "  Chevy  Chase." — His  Lordship's  Arrival  at  Lexington. — General  Heath  arrives 
and  takes  Command  of  the  Provincials. — Doctor  Warren  on  the  Alert. — The  Briflsh  retreat  to  Boston. — The  Slaugh 
ter  on  the  Route. — The  British  arrive  at  Charlestown. — The  Panic  in  the  Town. — Arrival  at  Boston. — The  Killed  and 
Wounded. — The  General  Excitement. — Meeting  of  the  Provincial  Council. — Their  llemons^pnce. — General  Artemas 
Ward  appointed  Commander-in-Chief. — The  Whole  Country  aroused. — Israel  Putnam. — Benedict  Arnold. — American 
Troops  called  out. — Cambridge  made  Headquarters. — A  Second  Continental  Congress. — Washington's  Reflections 
on  the  Lexington  Affair. — Canada. — Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point. — Action  of  Connecticut. — Ethan  Allen  and  the 
Green-Mountain  Boys. — Expedition  to  Ticonderoga. — Arnold  volunteers. — Fall  of  Ticonderoga. — Skeensborough. — 
The  Meeting  of  the  Continental  Congress. — Washington  chosen  Commander-in-Chief. — The  Army  organized. 


1775, 


GENERAL  GAGE,  having  received 
Colonel  Smith's  request  for  a  rein 
forcement,  sent  to  his  relief  nine  hundred 
men  and  two  pieces  of  artillery,  under  the 
command  of  Lord  Percy,  u  a  penurious,* 
undignified  young  man,"  as  Walpole  call 
ed  him.  At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
this  detachment  marched  out  of 
Boston,  the  bands  "  playing,  by 


April  19, 


*  "When  Lord  Percy  was  in  Ireland  with  his  regiment, 
the  fifth  infantry,  he  consented,  after  much  consideration,  to 
give  a  dinner  to  the  officers  in  garrison  at  Limerick.  The 
gallant  but  cautious  earl  ordered  the  repast  at  a  tavern,  spe 
cifying  that  it  should  be  for  fifty  persons,  at  eighteen  pence 
oer  head.  The  officers  heard  of  the  arrangement,  and  they 
ordered  the  landlord  to  provide  a  banquet  at  a  guinea  per 
nead,  promising  to  pay  the  difference  in  the  event  of  their 
entertainer  declining  to  do  so.  When  the  banquet  was 
served,  there  was  but  one  astonished  and  uncomfortable  in 
dividual  at  the  board,  and  that  was  the  earl  himself,  who 
beheld  a  feast  fit  for  the  gods,  and  heard  himself  gratefully 
complimented  upon  the  excellence  of  both  viands  and  wines. 
The  astonished  earl  experienced  an  easily-understood 'diffi 
culty  in  returning  thanks  when  his  health  was  drunk  with 
an  enthusiasm  that  bewildered  him ;  and,  on  retiring,  early 
sought  out  the  landlord,  in  order  to  have  the  solution  of  an 
enigma  that  sorely  puzzled  him.  Boniface  told  the  un 
adorned  and  unwelcome  truth  ;  and  the  inexperienced  young 
carl  acknowledged  his  mistake,  and  discharged  the  bill  with 
a  sigh  on  himself  and  a  check  on  his  banker." — DORAN, 
"  Table-Traits,  and  Something  on  Them  " 


way  of  contempt, '  Yankee  Doodle]  a  song 
composed  in  derision  of  the  New-England- 
ers,  scornfully  called  Yankees."  A  "  smart" 
boy,  observing  it  as  the  troops  passed 
through  Roxbury,  made  himself  extreme 
ly  merry  with  the  circumstance,  jumping 
and  laughing  so  as  to  attract  the  notice 

O  o 

of  his  lordship,  who,  it  is  said,  asked  him 
at  what  he  was  laughing  so  heartily ;  and 
was  answered,  "  To  think  how  you  will 
dance,  by-and-by,  to  Chevy  Chase  /"  It  is 
added  that  the  repartee  stuck  by  his  lord 
ship  the  whole  day.* 

Percy  suffered  but  little  annoyance  on 
his  march  to  the  relief  of  Smith  and  his 
men.  At  Charlestown  he  found  the  bridge 
taken  up,  but,  as  the  planks  were  discov 
ered  near  by,  they  were  readily  replaced ; 
and  he  marched  on  without  difficulty  un- 

*  Gordon's  History  of  the  American  Revolution.  Th 
allusion  to  Chevy  Chase  will  be  understood  by  the  reader, 
if  he  calls  to  mind  that  a  Lord  Percy  is  the  hero  of  that  old 
ballad.  The  Lord  Percy  spoken  of  in  the  text  is  the  one 
afterward  duke  of  Northumberland,  of  whom  Halleck  writes  : 
"  who,  when  a  younger  son, 


Fought  for  K'mg  George  at  Lexington, 
A  major  of  dragoons." 


148 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


til  he  reached  Lexington,  where  he  found 
the  retreating  force  "  so  much  exhausted 
with  fatigue,  that  they  were  obliged  to 
lie  down  for  rest  on  the  ground,  their 
tongues  hanging  out  of  their  mouths, 
like  those  of  dogs  after  a  chase."  Percy, 
bringing  his  fieldpieces  to  bear  from  a 
commanding  position  upon  the  provin 
cials  (who  were  hanging  upon  his  troops, 
prepared  to  gall  them  with  their  shots 
whenever  they  took  up  their  march), 
there  was  a  brief  cessation  of  hostility. 
The  friends  of  the  patriot  cause  had, 
in  the  meantime,  been  busy  in  Boston. 
General  Heath,  who  had  been  authorized 
by  the  provincial  Congress  to  take  com 
mand  of  the  minute-men  whenever  called 
out,  now  hurried  to  the  scene  of  action ; 
having  in  his  route  given  orders  suita 
ble  to  the  emergency,  and  directed  the 
Charlestown  people  to  form  a  barricade 
of  the  planks  of  their  bridge,  and  there 
post  themselves  to  oppose  the  British  as 
they  returned  to  Boston.  When  he  ar 
rived  at  Lexington,  Heath  took  com 
mand  of  the  provincials,  and  strove  to 
form  them  in  military  order.  Warren, 
too,  the  patriotic  physician  of  Boston, 
was  active  in  cheering  and  advising  his 
countrymen,  as  he  rode  forward  to  meet 
the  British.  "Keep  up  a  brave  heart," 
he  said  to  one.  "  They  have  begun  it — 
that  either  party  could  do ;  and  we  '11 
end  it — that  only  one  can  do."  To  an 
other,  who  exclaimed,  "  Well,  they  are 
gone  out,"  he  answered,  "Yes,  and  we'll 
be  up  with  them  before  night!" — "His 
soul,"  as  it  was  justly  said,  "  beat  to  arms 
as  soon  as  he  learned  the  intention  of 
the  British  troops." 


Percy  did  not  halt  long,  as  he  found 
the  provincials  gathering  so  fast,  and  so 
bent  upon  resisting  him  to  their  utmost. 
He  had  now  over  eighteen  hundred  well- 
disciplined  men  under  arms ;  but  he  had 
evidently  determined  upon  no  act  of  hos 
tility,  beyond  what  might  be  necessary 
to  protect  his  retreat  to  Boston.  So,  af 
ter  proper  refreshment  of  his  men,  and 
placing  the  harassed  force  of  Colonel 
Smith  as  far  as  possible  under  the  cover 
of  his  fresher  troops,  he  began  his  retreat. 
The  British,  however,  no  sooner  began  to 
move,  than  the  Americans  renewed  their 
harassing  attacks.  The  soldiers,  in  spite 
of  the  efforts  at  restraint  of  Lord  Percy, 
were  excited  to  such  a  pitch  of  uncon 
trollable  rage,  that  they  began  to  retal 
iate  by  acts  of  devastation  and  cruelty. 
They  rushed  into  the  houses  and  mur 
dered  the  sick,  the  helpless,  and  even 
mothers  with  their  babes  at  the  breast! 
They  drove  the  inhabitants  away  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet,  and  burned  their 
dwellings.  But  the  provincials,  nothing 
daunted,  kept  up  their  harassing  fire,  and 
did  not  hesitate  to  come  out  in  throngs 
upon  the  road  and  skirmish  with  the  reg 
ulars.  Fierce  slaughter  raged  on  both 
sides.  The  British  fell  fast,  and  Lord 
Percy  himself  nearly  lost  his  life  from  a 
musketrball  which  shot  off  a  button  from 
his  coat.  The  provincials,  too,  suffered 
greatly,  but  continued  to  hang  on  the 
rear  of  the  British  troops,  and  harass 
them  with  their  sharp-shooting.  Harris 
and  Warren  were  constantly  cheering  on 
the  men,  and  bravely  taking  the  lead  in 
every  struggle.  Warren  barely  escaped 
with  his  life,  a  muskei>shot  having  struck 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BACK  TO  BOSTON. 


149 


his  hair,  and  driven  out  the  pin  by  which 
it  was  gathered  behind  his  ears. 

When  the  British  troops  were  about 
entering  Charlestown,  and  had  reached 
the  base  of  Prospect  hill,  the  attack  of 
the  provincials  became  terribly  severe ; 
but  Percy,  after  playing  his  fieldpieces 
with  effect,  hurried  on  his  men  to  a  run, 
until  they  reached  Charlestown  neck,  and 
were  protected  by  the  guns  of  the  men- 
of-war.  Charlestown  had  been  the  whole 
day  in  a  state  of  great  excitement.  The 
schools  had  been  dismissed ;  the  men  had 
marched  to  the  relief  of  their  fellow-pa 
triots  ;  the  shops  had  been  closed ;  and 
the  old  and  feeble,  the  women  and  chil 
dren,  huddled  together  in  anxious  groups 
in  the  houses,  or  gathered  in  knots  about 
the  streets,  discussed  with  alarm  the  ter 
rible  events  of  the  day.  Now  that  the 
enemy  were  returning,  a  general  panic 
ensued,  and  the  people  scattered  in  all 
directions,  crying  out,  "  The  British  are 
coming,  with  fire  and  slaughter !"  Lord 
Percy  had  his  troops  under  sufficient  con 
trol  during  his  march  through  Charles- 
town  to  keep  them  from  doing  much  mis 
chief,  and  the  inhabitants  were  accord 
ingly  more  frightened  than  hurt.  None 
were  harmed,  and  all  the  troops  insisted 
upon  was  "  something  to  drink."  The 
main  body  of  the  British  occupied  Bun 
ker's  hill,  and  the  rest  entered  Boston, 
perfectly  worn  down  with  fatigue.  The 
officers  immediately  thronged  the  tavern 
in  the  square,  and  called  upon  "mine 
host"  for  supper  and  wine ;  while  the  men 
were  ordered  to  their  quarters,  to  sleep 
off  the  effects  of  their  hard  day's  work. 
General  Gage  strengthened  the  guards 


throughout  the  city,  and,  posting  a  party 
at  the  neck,  ordered  them  to  allow  no 
one  to  leave  Boston  that  night. 

The  whole  loss  of  the  Americans  was 
computed  at  forty-nine  killed,  thirty-nine 
wounded,  and  five  missing,  with  a  de 
struction  of  property  amounting  to  about 
three  thousand  pounds.  The  British  had 
seventy-three  killed,  one  hundred  and 
seventy-four  wounded,  and  twenty-seven 
missing.  Among  these  were  no  less  than 
eighteen  officers.  In  the  record  of  bat 
tles,  the  affairs  of  Concord  and  Lexing 
ton  rank  merely  as  skirmishes.  In  the 
history  of  America,  they  are  the  great 
events  which  began  the  War  of  the  Rev 
olution.  Gage  and  his  chief  officers,  now 
aware  of  the  evil  consequences  of  the 
rash  attack  which  had  been  made  upon 
the  provincials,  affected  great  indignation 
at  the  conduct  of  Pitcairn,  in  his  charge 
upon  the  militia  at  Lexington.  Startled 
as  they  were,  they  might  well  be  solicit 
ous  about  incurring  the  responsiblity  of 
an  act  which  had  inflamed  the  indigna 
tion  of  the  whole  country,  and  which,  in 
the  foresight  of  the  wise,  was  the  com 
mencement  of  a  revolution  which  was 
destined  to  tear  from  the  crown  of  Great 
Britain  the  American  jewel,  without 
which,  Lord  Chatham  declared,  it  would 
not  be  worth  the  wearing. 

The  inhabitants  were  now  everywhere 
in  arms  ;  and  they  collected  in  such  num 
bers  about  Boston,  that  they  seemed  ef 
fectually  to  invest  the  city,  and  created 
great  anxiety  on  the  part  of  General 
Gage  and  his  British  troops.  The  pro 
vincial  Congress  met  almost  im 


mediately  after  these  occurren- 


April  22, 


150 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[>AUT    II 


ces  at  Lexington  and  Concord,  and  drew 
up  a  "  narrative  of  the  massacre,"  which, 
with  an  address,  they  sent  to  the  British 
throne.  Yet  disposed  to  be  loyal,  if  the 
king  could  only  be  just,  they  declared 
that  "  these  marks  of  ministerial  ven 
geance"  had  not  yet  detached  them  from 
their  royal  sovereign,  whom  they  were 
still  ready  to  defend  in  "  person,  family, 
crown,  and  dignity."  They  were,  how 
ever,  resolutely  determined,  as  they  said, 
not  to  submit  tamely  to  tyranny;  but, 
with  God  on  their  side,  to  die  or  be  free. 
The  Congress,  moreover,  prepared  for  the 
worst,  by  everywhere  organizing  the  mi 
litia,  and  by  the  appointment  of  General 
Artemas  Ward  as  commander-in-chief. 

The  feeling  in  Massachusetts  was  soon 
communicated  to  all  the  colonies.  Every 
colonist  felt  that  the  cause  of  the  Boston 
people  was  his  own ;  and  crowds  flocked 
in,  to  unite  with  those  who  had  already 
struck  a  blow  on  the  memorable  day  of 
Lexington  and  Concord.  They  came 
from  every  part  of  New  England.  Old 
Israel  Putnam,  now  threescore  years  of 
age,  who  had  seen  service  in  the  French 
war,  had  retired  to  his  Connecticut  farm, 
and,  like  another  Cincinnatus,  was  plough 
ing  his  field,  when  one  of  his  sons  ran  up 
to  him  with  the  last  news  from  Boston. 
The  veteran  dropped  the  handle  of  the 
plough,  unharnessed  his  horses,  and,  sad 
dling  one  of  them,  galloped  away  to  join 
the  Massachusetts  patriots.  Stark,  too,  of 
New  Hampshire,  an  old  campaigner,  came 
in,  offering  his  services.  The  people  now 
looked  up  to  these  veterans  for  counsel, 
and  readily  submitted  to  the  guidance  of 
the  one,  who  from  a  private  had  reached 


the  militia  rank  of  general ;  and  of  the 
other,  who  was  known  as  colonel  in  the 
same  service. 

Another  and  more  remarkable  man 
still,  whose  life  supplies  the  darkest  page 
in  American  annals,  was  then  among  the 
first  to  devote  himself  to  the  patriotic 
cause.  This  was  Benedict  Arnold,  of  New 
Haven,  a  Yankee  skipper  and  small  tra 
der.  He  had  been  chosen  the  captain  of 
a  volunteer  company ;  and  no  sooner  did 
the  Lexington  news  reach  him,  than  he 
called  his  men  together,  and  asked  them 
whether  they  would  march  off  with  him. 
the  next  morning,  for  the  neighborhood 
of  Boston,  distant  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  They  agreed  to  a  man,  and 
mustered  at  the  time  appointed,  in  front 
of  the  tavern  where  the  Connecticut  com 
mittee  of  safety  were  in  session.  Arnold 
applied  to  these  gentlemen  for  a  supply 
of  powder  and  ball.  They  demurred,  011 
the  ground  that  he  was  not  duly  author 
ized.  He  then  proposed  to  his  soldiers 
to  help  themselves,  by  force,  if  necessary, 
to  which  they  agreed.  Arnold  next  sent 
word  to  the  committee,  of  his  resolution. 
Colonel  Wooster  now  came  out,  and  tried 
to  persuade  him  to  wait  until  he  had  re 
ceived  proper  orders.  The  impetuous 
Arnold  answered,  "  None  but  Almighty 
God  shall  prevent 'my  marching!"  He 
got  his  ammunition,  and  marched  to  Bos 
ton. 

The  provincial  Congress,  still  in  session, 
resolved  that  thirty  thousand  men  be  im 
mediately  raised,  and  that  all  New  Eng 
land  be  urged  to  add  their  quota  of  men 
to  the  Massachusetts  troops.  Cambridge, 
near  Boston,  was  made  the  headquarters ; 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


RESPONSE  OF  THE  PROVINCES. 


151 


and  the  college  there  (the  venerable  Har 
vard)  was  emptied  of  its  students,  that 
room  might  'be  made  for  the  provincial 
militia. 

The  appeal  of  Massachusetts  to  the  oth 
er  New-England  provinces  was  respond 
ed  to  with  spirit.  Connecticut  voted  six 
thousand  men,  two  thousand  of  whom 
were  for  its  own  defence,  and  the  rest  to 
send  in  aid  to  the  neighboring  colony, 
under  the  command  of  the  veteran  Put 
nam  (already  on  the  ground),  and  Spen 
cer  and  AVooster.  New  Hampshire  did 
not,  as  yet,  organize  an  army,  but  ex 
pressed  an  ardent  sympathy  with  the 
cause,  and  recommended  supplies  to  be 
sent  to  the  gallant  Stark  and  his  volun 
teers.  Rhode  Island  was  already  repre 
sented  by  Nathaniel  Greene,  a  blacksmith 
by  trade  and  a  Quaker  in  religion — now, 
however,  "  read  out  of  meeting,"  for  his 
warlike  propensities.  This  little  prov 
ince,  notwithstanding,  voted  an  army  of 
observation,  numbering  fifteen  hundred 
men,  and  invested  the  bellicose  young 
"  friend"  with  the  chief  command.  Penn 
sylvania  held  public  meetings,  appointed 
a  "  committee  of  safety,"  with  Benjamin 
Franklin  as  its  chairman,  enrolled  volun 
teer  companies,  and  expressed  the  most 
patriotic  resolutions.  The  people  of  New 
York,  struggling  against  the  adverse  in 
fluence  of  a  tory  assembly,  met  together 
in  spite  of  strong  opposition,  and  united 
in  an  "  association  for  the  defence  of  co 
lonial  rights,"  and  recommended  the  ear 
ly  meeting  of  a  provincial  Congress,  "  to 
deliberate  on  and  direct  such  measures 
as  may  be  expedient  for  our  common 
safety."  At  the  South,  too,  each  prov 


ince  —  Delaware,  Virginia, the  Carol inas,* 
and  all — was  firm  for  the  patriotic  cause, 
and  prepared  to  act  in  its  defence. 

To  give  unanimity  to  the  action  of  the 
colonists,  a  second  continental  Congress 
was  to  be  held,  at  Philadelphia.  Wash 
ington  was  at  Mount  Vernon,  preparing 
to  set  out  as  a  delegate  to  this  assembly, 
which  was  to  meet  in  May,  when  he  re 
ceived  news  of  the  affair  at  Lexington. 

"Washington's  feelings,"  says  Irving, 
"  were  of  a  mingled  nature.  They  may 
be  gathered  from  a  letter  to  his  friend 
and  neighbor,  George  William  Fairfax, 
then  in  England,  in  which  he  lays  the 
blame  of  this  '  deplorable  affair'  on  the 
ministry  and  their  military  agents ;  and 
concludes  with  the  following  words,  in 
which  the  yearnings  of  the  patriot  give 
affecting  solemnity  to  the  implied  resolve 
of  the  soldier :  '  Unhappy  it  is  to  reflect 
that  a  brother's  sword  has  been  sheathed 
in  a  brother's  breast ;  and  that  the  once- 
happy  and  peaceful  plains  of  America  are 
to  be  either  drenched  with  blood  or  in 
habited  by  slaves.  Sad  alternative  !  But 
can  a  virtuous  man  hesitate  in  his  choice?'" 
The  impression  produced  in  England  may 
be  learned  from  this  record  of  Walpole 
in  his  journal,  after  the  victories  of  Con 
cord  and  Lexington  were  announced : 
"Stocks  immediately  fell.  The  provin 
cials  had  behaved  with  the  greatest  con 
duct,  coolness,  and  resolution.  One  cir 
cumstance  spoke  a  thorough  determina 
tion  of  resistance.  The  provincials  had 
sent  over  affidavits  of  all  that  had  passed, 
and  a  colonel  of  the  militia  had  sworn  in 

*  In  North  Carolina  they  even  precipitated  matters,  by  a 
"  Declaration  of  Independence." 


152 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11 


an  affidavit  that  he  had  given  his  men 
order  to  fire  on  the  king's  troops  if  the 
latter  attacked  them.  It  was  firmness, 
indeed,  to  swear  to  having  been  the  first 
to  begin  what  the  Parliament  had  named 
rebellion ;  thus  was  the  civil  war  begun, 
and  a  victory  gained,  the  first  fruits  of 
which  were  on  the  side  of  the  Americans, 
whom  Lord  Sandwich  had  had  the  folly 
and  rashness  to  proclaim  cowards."  Let 
us,  however,  pass  from  what  was  said  to 
what  was  done  by  the  patriots ;  for  the 
purpose  of  our  history  is  to  tell  how  they 
fought,  and  not  what  they  thought. 

When  the  struggle  between  the  colo 
nies  and  the  mother-country  became  im 
minent,  the  attention  of  some  thoughtful 
men  in  New  England  was  directed  to  the 
probable  position  of  Canada  in  the  com 
ing  contest.  Few  doubted  but  that  it 
would  remain  loyal  under  any  circum 
stances  ;  and,  with  such  a  disposition,  it 
wa>s  quite  evident  that  Canadian  territo 
ry  would  offer  to  the  British  a  firm  hold 
ing-ground,  upon  which  they  might  es 
tablish  a  basis  of  military  operations,  and 
through  which  they  could  do  continued 
mischief  to  all  the  colonies,  and  particu 
larly  to  New  England  and  New  York. 
The  main  route  from  the  Canadas  to  the 
provinces  south  was  over  Lake  Cham- 
plain  ;  and  upon  this  lake  were  the  two 
forts  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point, 
held  each  by  a  British  garrison.  These, 
accordingly,  commanded  the  way.  To 
acquire  them,  therefore,  was  thought  of 
great  importance  to  the  patriot  cause  by 
the  wise  in  counsel.  The  bold  in  action 
were  not  wanting  to  offer  to  do  what  was 
deemed  advisable  to  be  done.  The  neces 


sity  of  securing  Ticonderoga  and  Crown 
Point  had  been  urged  by  many  through 
out  New  England,  but  Connecticut  was 
foremost  in  proposing  a  plan  of  action, 
and  sending  out  an  expedition. 

Several  members  of  the  assembly  of 
Connecticut  got  up  the  enterprise,  but 
kept  it  a  secret,  as  it  might  not  have 
been  safe  to  intrust  a  knowledge  to  those 
who,  however  patriotically  disposed,  had 
not  yet  declared  themselves  boldly  for 
war.  Money  was  obtained,  and  a  few 
volunteers  enlisted  in  Connecticut  and 
Massachusetts.  The  projectors  of  the  un 
dertaking,  however,  looked  for  the  main 
staple  of  their  force  to  the  "Green-mount 
ain  boys"  of  the  "New-Hampshire  grants." 
This  territory  was  then  a  wild  region  :  it 
is  now  the  state  of  Vermont.  In  those 
early  days  it  was  settled  by  a  few  hardy 
men,  who  joined  to  the  strong  attach 
ment  of  the  farmer  to  his  land,  the  wild 
and  fierce  characteristics  of  the  forest- 
borderer.  The  territory  in  their  posses 
sion  was  derived  from  New  Hampshire. 
New  York,  however,  claimed  the  title, 
which  was  confirmed,  on  appeal,  by  royal 
authority.  The  latter  province  then  at 
tempted  to  eject  the  settlers  of  the  "  New- 
Hampshire  grants,"  but  found  itself  re 
sisted  by  a  band  of  resolute  fellows  who 
called  themselves  "  The  Green-mountain 
boys."  The  legislature  of  New  York  now 
outlawed  these  bold  resistants,and  offered 
a  reward  for  their  apprehension. 

Ethan  Allen,  born  in  Connecticut,  but 
living  from  childhood  among  the  Green 
mountains,  was  the  chosen  leader  of  these 
"  New-Hampshire  grant"  outlaws.  He  ad 
vised  arming  and  defiance :  his  followers 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ETHAN  ALLEN. 


153 


adopted  his  counsel,  and  pledged  them 
selves  to  resist  New  York  to  the  death. 
Allen  was  bold  almost  to  fierceness,  a 
natural  contemner  of  authority,  yet  one 
Avho,  with  all  his  reputed  disregard  of 
traditional  religious  opinion,  was  of  the 
strictest  integrity.  "An  anecdote  is  re 
lated  of  him,"  says  Lossing,  "  which  illus 
trates  the  purity  of  his  principles.  He 
owed  a  citizen  of  Boston  sixty  pounds, 
for  which  he  gave  his  promissory  note. 
It  was  sent  to  Vermont  for  collection. 
It  was  inconvenient  for  Allen  to  pay, 
and  the  note  was  put  in  suit.  Allen  em 
ployed  a  lawyer  to  attend  the  court,  and 
have  the  judgment  postponed  until  he 
could  raise  the  money.  The  lawyer  de 
termined  to  deny  the  genuineness  of  the 
signature,  as  the  readiest  method  of  post 
poning  the  matter,  for  in  that  case  a  wit 
ness  at  Boston  would  have  to  be  sent  for. 
When  the  case  was  called,  it  happened 
that  Allen  was  in  a  remote  part  of  the 
courthouse,  and  to  his  utter  astonishment 
heard  his  lawyer  gravely  deny  the  sig 
nature  of  the  note.  With  long  and  fierce 
strides  he  rushed  through  the  crowd,  and, 
confronting  the  amazed  '  lirnb  of  the  law,' 
rebuked  him  in  a  voice  of  thunder :  '  Mr. 
— ,  I  did  not  hire  you  to  come  here 
and  lie  !  That  is  a  true  note — I  signed 
it — I'll  swear  to  it — and  I'll  pay  it!  I 
want  no  shuffling ;  I  want  time.  What 
I  employed  you  for  was  to  get  this  busi 
ness  put  over  to  the  next  court ;  not  to 
come  here  and  lie  and  juggle  about  it !' 
The  result  was,  the  amicable  postpone 
ment  of  the  claim,  arranged  between  the 
two  lawyers." 

The  style  of  the  man  as  a  speaker — 
20 


for  he  had  some  pretensions  to  a  rude 
eloquence — is  described  as  that  of  "a 
singular  compound  of  local  barbarisms, 
scriptural  phrases,  and  oriental  wildness 
and,  though  unclassic  and  sometimes  un- 
grammatical,  highly  animated  and  forci 
ble."  And  Washington  said  there  was 
"  an  original  something  in  him  which 
commanded  admiration." 

The  small  force  collected  together  in 
Connecticut  and  Massachusetts  now  rap 
idly  pushed  on  to  join  the  "  Green-mount- 
ain  boys,"  who  readily  flocked  to  the  call 
of  their  old  leader,  Ethan  Allen.  Castle- 
ton  was  the  rendezvous,  and  here  soon 
the  whole  force  was  gathered,  amounting 
to  two  hundred  and  seventy,  all  of  whom, 
with  the  exception  of  forty,  were  "  Green- 
mountain  boys."  Now  a  council-of-war 
was  held.  On  the  road,  the  small  Con 
necticut  detachment  had  met  with  one 
who  was  apparently  a  countryman,  from 
whom  they  had  gathered  such  an  account 
of  the  formidable  position  of  things  in  Ti- 
conderoga,  that  their  hearts  almost  failed 
them.  This  incident  was  laid  before  the 
council,  and  was  thus  reported  by  the 
witnesses  :  While  they  were  on  their  way, 
they  fell  in  with  one  who  appeared  to  be 
an  undesigning,  honest  traveller.  They 
addressed  him.  "  From  whence  carne 
you  ?" — "  From  Ty"  (so  Ticonderoga  was 
called,  for  shortness) ;  "  left  it  yesterday," 
at  such  an  hour. — "  Has  the  garrison  re 
ceived  any  reinforcements?" — "Yes;  I 
saw  them  :  there  were  a  number  of  artil 
lerymen  and  other  soldiers." — "  What  are 
they  doing  ?  Are  they  making  fascines  ?'' 
— "  Fascines  ?  I  do  n't  know  what  you  call 
fascines.  They  are  tying  up  sticks  and 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


brush  in  bundles,  and  putting  them  where 
the  walls  are  down." 

This  account  so  alarmed  many  of  the 
party,  that  there  was  some  thought  of  re 
turning  ;  and  it  was  only  determined  by 
a  majority  of  one,  that  they  should  push 
on.  And  well  they  did;  for  the  "coun 
tryman"  was  a  shrewd  fellow,  affecting 
not  to  know  anything,  and  yet  knowing 
enough  to  deceive,  by  giving  such  infor 
mation  as  he  thought  would  save  the 
British  forts,  and  which  information  was 
very  far  from  the  truth.  Ethan  Allen 
was  no  sooner  appointed  to  command  the 
whole  expedition,  by  the  council  of  offi 
cers  at  Castleton,  than  there  came  one, 
in  great  haste,  to  dispute  the  honor  with 
him.  This  was  Benedict  Arnold. 

Arnold,  fresh  from  Connecticut,  where 
the  expedition  against  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown  Point  was  the  subject  of  talk 
among  the  patriots,  no  sooner  arrived  at 
Boston — and  not  finding  much  there  at 
that  moment  for  the  occupation  of  his  busy 
activity — than  he  laid  before  the  Massa 
chusetts  committee  of  safety  a  proposi 
tion  for  an  attack  upon  the  British  forts. 
He  was  readily  listened  to  wrhen  he  spoke 
of  the  dismantled  condition  of  Ticonder 
oga,  its  great  stock  of  cannon  and  milita 
ry  stores,  and  of  how  easily  it  might  be 
taken,  defended  as  it  was  by  only  two- 
score  men.  The  committee  approved  of 
his  proposition,  and  appointed  him  colo 
nel,  with  the  authority  to  raise  four  hun 
dred  men.  Arnold,  however,  knowing 
that  Allen  was  before  him,  did  not  wait 
for  recruits,  but  pushed  on  and  arrived 
at  Ca-stleton  with  a  single  servant.  Here 
he  showed  his  Massachusetts  commission, 


and  claimed  the  supreme  command ;  but, 
finding  that  the  men,  who  were  mostly 
u  Green-mountain  boys,"  insisted  upon  be 
ing  led  by  their  old  commander,  Allen, 
he  was  fain  to  content  himself  with  the 
position  of  second. 

One  Captain  Noah  Phelps  now  came 
in  with  certain  intelligence  in  regard  to 
Ticonderoga,  This  bold  fellow  had  dis 
guised  himself  as  a  rustic  laborer,  and  had 
gone  into  the  fort,  requesting  to  be  shaved 
by  the  barber  of  the  garrison.  Suspect 
ing  nothing,  he  wras  readily  admitted  ; 
and,  as  he  was  searching  for  the  man  of 
the  razor,  he  went  all  about  the  fort,  pry 
ing  into  every  nook  and  corner,  and  ask 
ing,  with  the  affected  greenness  of  a  coun 
tryman,  all  sorts  of  questions.  After 
spending  the  better  part  of  the  day  thus, 
and  getting  rid  of  his  beard  at  the  hands 
of  the  barber,  he  left,  and  returned  to  his 
fellow-patriots,  with  the  fullest  informa 
tion  of  what  he  had  seen  and  heard.  It 
was  determined  to  make  the  attack  at 
once,  and  the  adventurous  Noah  Phelps 
undertook  to  guide  the  party  to  the  fort. 

On  the  9th  of  May,  Allen  began 
his  march, and  reached  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  at  a  point  opposite  to  Ticonderoga, 
in  the  middle  of  the  night.  There  were 
but  few  boats  to  be  had,  but  Allen  was 
too  impatient  to  wait  until  more  could 
be  obtained ;  so  he  and  Arnold,  with 
eighty-three  men,  crossed  at  once.  When 
on  the  other  side,  it  was  suggested  that 
they  should  await  the  arrival  of  the  rest 
of  the  force ;  but  Allen  would  not  listen 
to  it  for  a  moment,  and  declared  that  he 
was  for  striking  a  blow  on  the  instant, 
"  It  is  a  desperate  attempt,  I  know,"  said 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


FALL  OF  TICONDEROGA. 


155 


he,  "  and  I  ask  no  man  to  go  against  his 
will.  I  will  take  the  lead,  and  be  the 
first  to  advance.  You  that  are  willing 
to  follow,  poise  your  firelocks !"  Every 
firelock  was  "poised." 

The  fort  stood  upon  a  height  above 
them,  and  they  now  rapidly  climbed  the 
hill,  with  Phelps  and  a  farmer's  lad  they 
had  picked  up,  guiding  the  way.  On 
reaching  the  top,  a  sentry  on  the  outer 
wall  snapped  his  fusee  at  Allen,  and  then 
retreated  within.  A  dispute  now  took 
place  between  Arnold  and  Allen.  The 
former  "  became  assuming,  and  swore  he 
would  go  in  first;  the  other  swore  he 
should  not."  At  last  it  was  agreed  that 
they  should  go  in  together ;  so  Allen  and 
Arnold  entered  the  port  leading  to  the 
fort  side  by  side.  It  was  in  the  early 
gray  of  the  morning,  as  they  si 
lently  marched  in,  followed  by 
their  handful  of  men.  A  soldier  on  guard 
struck  at  one  of  the  officers,  but  was  soon 
brought  to  his  knees  by  a  blow  from  Al 
len's  sword  upon  the  head,  and  forced  to 
beg  for  quarter. 

As  the  provincials,  with  a  loud  shout, 
rushed  into  the  parade  within  the  walls, 
the  garrison  came  flying  out,  and  were 
easily  made  prisoners.  Allen  now  made 
his  way  (with  the  aid  of  the  farmer's  lad, 
who  knew  every  turn  in  and  out  of  the 
fortress)  to  the  quarters  of  Captain  Dela- 
place,  the  commander,  who  was  still  in 
bed.  Allen  gave  a  thundering  rap  at  the 
door  with  the  hilt-  of  his  sword,  which  at 
once  aroused  Delaplace,  who  came  out 
half-dressed,  "  with  the  frightened  face  of 
his  pretty  wife  peering  over  his  shoulder," 
and  demanded,  with  an  air  and  tone  of 


May  10, 


affected  firmness,  what  the  disturbance 
meant.  Allen  insisted  upon  his  instant 
surrender.  "  By  what  authority  ?"  asked 
Delaplace.  "  In  the  name  of  the  Grea 
Jehovah  and  the  continental  Congress !" 
was  the  memorable  answer,  rounded  off 
with  the  usual  oath  of  the  leader  of  the 
wild  "  mountain-boys."  It  is  true,  at  that 
moment  there  was  no  continental  Con 
gress  ;  and  it  might  be  very  questionable 
whether  a  profane  character  like  Allen 
could  justly  claim  divine  authority  :  but 
there  was  the  provincial  force  in  posses 
sion,  to  which  their  leader  had  only  to 
point,  which  settled  the  matter,  and  put 
an  end  at  once  to  all  questions.  Dela 
place  had  nothing  else  left  him  but  to 
surrender ;  and  accordingly  Ticonderoga 
was  immediately  given  up,  with  all  its 
effects,  including  the  captain  with  his  for 
ty  men,  and  a  large  stock  of  artillery  and 
military  stores. 

Arnold,  \vith  his  usual  uneasy  longing 
for  power,  insisted  impetuously  upon  the 
command  of  Ticonderoga  being  given  to 
him ;  but  was  forced  to  yield  to  Allen, 
who  had  the  advantage  of  being  second 
ed  by  the  predominating  majority  of  his 
"  Green-mountain  boys,"  with  whom  he 
was  so  great  a  favorite.  Arnold,  how 
ever,  protested,  and  sent  a  letter  of  com 
plaint  to  the  Massachusetts  committee. 
The  rest  of  the  force  now  coming  up  from 
the  lake,  they  were  detached  to  take  pos 
session  of  Crown  Point,  in  which  they 
succeeded  without  firing  a  gun.  It  sur 
rendered  on  the  12th  of  May,  being  al 
most  without  defence,  as  the  garrison 
numbered  only  a  dozen  men,  under  the 
command  of  a  sergeant.  Its  hundred 


156 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[FART    II. 


cannon  and  various  stores  were,  however, 
a  timely  addition  to  the  meager  supplies 
of  the  provincials. 

Arnold's  restlessness  now  found  vent 
in  an  enterprise  that  was  concocted  in 
council  at  Ticonderoga.  A  small  detach 
ment,  composed  of  some  thirty  men,  had 
been  sent  to  Skenesborough,  to  secure 
the  son  of  Major  Skene,  who  was  an  ar 
dent  royalist,  and  a  man  of  large  wealth 
and  influence,  by  which  he  was  enabled 
greatly  to  serve  the  cause  to  which  he 
was  devoted.  They  had  succeeded  in 
taking  young  Skene  by  surprise,  while 
out  shooting.  Otherwise,  they  might 
have  had  tough  work  in  effecting  their 
object;  for  Skene  was  quite  a  lord  in  his 
way,  with  his  numerous  tenants  and  ne 
groes,  who  were  ready  to  do  his  bidding 
at  all  hazards,  and  to  defend  him  and 
his  family  to  the  death.  The  provincials 
seized  the  son — known,  as  well  as  his  fa 
ther,  as  a  Major  Skene — his  strong  stone- 
house  and  fortress,  a  number  of  his  de 
pendants  and  slaves,  and  his  boats,  among 
which  there  was  a  good-sized  schooner. 
They  likewise  made  another  capture,  of 
which  they  had  but  little  expectation.  It 
was  that  of  the  elder  Skene's  wife,  who 
had  not  accompanied  her  husband,  as 
might  naturally  have  been  expected,  to 
England,  where  he  had  gone.  On  ran 
sacking  the  great  stone-house,  they  found 
the  mistress  of  the  mansion  in  the  cellar. 
She  had  been  there,  it  seems,  many  years. 
The  good  lady,  however,  was  dead,  and 
had  been  so  for  a  long  time  ;  but  her  hus 
band,  having  a  strong  attachment  to  an 
annuity  which  was  to  be  continued  to 
her  "  while  she  remained  above-ground," 


had  taken  care  to  secure  the  object  of  his 
affection,  by  keeping  his  wife's  body  out 
of  the  grave.  The  provincials  reveren 
tially  removed  the  remains,  and  buried 
them  behind  the  great  stone-house. 

It  was  now  determined  that  Arnold 
should  lead  the  men  who  had  been  so 
successful  at  Skenesborough,  and,  em 
barking  them  on  the  boats  which  they 
had  captured,  sail  with  them  down  Lake 
Champlain,  and  take  St.  Johns,  a  Cana 
dian  post  on  the  river  Sorel.  Arnold  him 
self,  who  had  been  a  sailor  in  early  days, 
took  command  of  the  schooner,  and  with 
a  fair  wind  succeeded  in  outsailing  the 
batteaux,  which  were  left  so  far  behind, 
that  he  had  landed  and  captured  the  place 
with  his  small  advance-party  before  the 
rest  could  come  up.  Arnold,  now  learn 
ing  that  the  troops  from  Canada  were 
coining,  destroyed  what  he  could  not  car 
ry  away,  and,  taking  with  him  an  armed 
vessel  and  some  military  stores,  set  sail 
up  the  lake  again.  He  had  not  got  far, 
when  he  was  met  by  Ethan  Allen  and 
his  men,  in  the  slow-moving  batteaux. 
Arnold  exultingly  saluted  his  rival  com 
mander  with  a  broadside  of  cannon,  which 
Allen  returned  with  a  volley  of  musketry 
from  his  militia.  An  interview  on  board 
Arnold's  royal  "man-of-war"  of  seventy 
tons  folio  wed,  when  Allen  was  informed  of 
the  particulars  of  the  late  success.  The 
latter  then  determined  to  continue  his 
course  for  St.  Johns,  and  make  an  at 
tempt  to  hold  it.  He  was,  however,  fore 
stalled  by  a  superior  British  force,  and 
had  to  turn  back  to  Ticonderoga.:i: 

*  This  account  is  derived  from  Irving,  who  gives  rathe"- 
a  different  version  from  other  writers. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       WASHINGTON  MADE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 


157 


1775. 


The  second  continental  Congress 
assembled  in  Philadelphia  on  the 
10th  of  May.  Almost  the  first  subject 
which  came  before  them  was,  the  state  of 
things  in  Massachusetts.  In  the  attitude 
of  the  British  government  toward  that 
province,  they  saw  a  subversion  of  its 
charter,  and  advised  the  organization  of 
a  government  which  might  restore,  as  far 
as  possible,  the  former  laws  of  Massachu 
setts.  The  Congress,  however,  so  far  as 
sumed  a  conciliatory  tone,  as  to  resolve 
upon  another  petition  to  the  British 
throne.  The  New-Englanders,with  whom 
the  spirit  of  independence  was  rife,  op 
posed  all  further  efforts  at  conciliation ; 
and  John  Adams  was  among  the  foremost 
to  denounce  them  as  "imbecile."  The 
petition  to  the  king  was,  however,  car 
ried.  Still,  the  Congress  continued  to 
act  as  if  the  colonies  were  already  inde 
pendent,  and  proceeded  to  deliberate  up 
on  measures  of  offence  and  defence  as  if 
they  constituted  a  separate  nation. 

That  the  people  of  New  England  were 
in  arms  to  resist  the  British  government, 
was  a  fact  that  could  not  be  concealed ; 
and  that  their  interest  was  the  common 
interest  of  the  whole  country,  every  one 
felt,  and  determined  to  sustain  it.  The 
question  now  came  up,  as  to  who  should 
be  commander-in-chief  to  lead  the  forces 
which  were  fast  gathering  to  the  rescue 
of  their  country.  There  was  no  little  jeal 
ousy,  even  at  this  early  period,  between 
the  North  and  the  South.  The  Massa 
chusetts  men  were  greatly  in  favor  of 
Hancock,  of  Boston,  and  he  himself  un 
doubtedly  aspired  to  the  high  position. 
Colonel  Washington  was  the  choice  of  the 


South.  That  great  man,  however,  mod 
estly  thought  not  of  himself,  but  of  his 
country  only.  John  Adams  now,  with 
the  consent  of  most  of  the  New-England- 
ers,  made  a  concession  to  the  southern 
provinces,  by  proposing  Mr.  George  Wash 
ington,  "•'  a  gentleman  whose  skill  and  ex 
perience  as  an  officer,  whose  independent 
fortune,  great  talents,  and  excellent  uni 
versal  character,  would  command  the  ap 
probation  of  all  America,  and  unite  the 
cordial  exertions  of  all  the  colonies  bet 
ter  than  any  other  person  in  the  Union." 
As  soon  as  Adams  had  uttered  these 
words,  "  Mr.  Washington,  who  happened 
to  sit  near  the  door.... with  his  usual  mod 
esty,  darted  into  the  library-room." 

There  were  many  New-Englanders  op 
posed  to  this  nomination,  and  one  who 
was  particularly  chagrined.  It  was  Han 
cock,  who  was  sitting  at  that  time  as 
president  of  the  Congress,  in  the  absence 
of  Peyton  Randolph,  who  had  returned 
to  Virginia,  to  preside  at  the  assembly  of 
his  own  province.  Adams  says :  "  While 
I  was  speaking  on  the  state  of  the  colo 
nies,  the  army  at  Cambridge,  and  the  en 
emy,  Hancock  heard  me  with  pleasure ; 
but  when,"  he  adds,  "  I  came  to  describe 
Washington  for  the  commander,  I  never 
remarked  a  more  sudden  and  striking 
change  of  countenance.  Mortification 
and  resentment  were  expressed  as  forci 
bly  as  his  face  could  exhibit  them." 

The  election  was  delayed  for  a  few 
days,  in  consequence  of  the  opposition ; 
when,  finally,  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  was 
unanimously  chosen  command 
er-in-chief  of  the  provincial  for 
ces.  On  his  election  beino;  announced 


Juiie  15, 


158 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Washington  arose  and  modestly  said,  af 
ter  thanking  the  Congress  for  the  honor 
conferred  upon  him:  "Lest  some  un 
lucky  event  should  happen  unfavorable 
to  my  reputation,  I  beg  it  may  be  remem 
bered,  by  every  gentleman  in  the  room, 
that  I  this  day  declare,  with  the  utmost 
sincerity,  I  do  not  think  myself  equal  to 
the  command  I  am  honored  with.  As  to 
pay,  I  beg  leave  to  assure  the  Congress 
that,  as  no  pecuniary  consideration  could 
have  tempted  me  to  accept  this  arduous 
employment,  at  the  expense  of  my  do 
mestic  ease  and  happiness,  I  do  not  wish 
to  make  any  profit  of  it.  I  will  keep 
an  exact  account  of  my  expenses.  These 
I  doubt  not  they  will  discharge,  and  that 
is  all  I  desire." 

In  the  congressional  resolution  to  ap 
point  a  commander-in-chief,  a  provision 
was  made  for  his  support  to  the  amount 
of  five  hundred  dollars  a  month.  The 
army  which  had  been  gathering,  princi 
pally  from  the  various  parts  of  New  Eng 


land,  was  now  formally  adopted  by  the 
continental  Congress  ;  and  a  commander- 
in-chief  having  been  appointed,  they  pro 
ceeded  to  organize  the  whole  military 
staff.  Artemas  AYard  was  chosen  second 
in  command,  Charles  Lee  the  third,  Phil 
ip  Schuyler  the  fourth,  and  Israel  Putnam 
the  fifth,  all  with  the  rank  of  major-gen 
eral.  Seth  Pomeroy,  Richard  Montgom 
ery,  David  Wooster,  William  Heath,  Jo 
seph  Spencer,  John  Thomas,  John  Sulli 
van,  and  Nathaniel  Greene,  were  the  eight 
appointed  as  brigadier-generals.  Horatio 
Gates  had  the  same  rank,  with  the  espe 
cial  function  of  adjutant-general.  There 
was  a  good  deal  of  opposition  to  the  ap 
pointment  of  Lee  and  Gates,  but  Wash 
ington's  earnest  advocacy  secured  their 
elections.  They  were  both  Englishmen, 
and  were  looked  upon  with  suspicion  as 
military  adventurers,  more  concerned 
about  their  own  private  interests  than 
the  public  good  of  a  country  to  which 
they  were  comparatively  strangers. 


CHAPTER    III. 

The  Provincial  Camp  before  Boston. — Men  and  Officers. — The  Country  round. — Charlestown  and  Boston  :  their  Aspect.- 
The  British  reinforced. — Burgoyne,  Clinton,  and  Howe. — Gage's  Proclamation. — Indignation  of  the  People. — Breed's 
and  Bunker's  Hills. — Taken  Possession  of  by  the  Provincials. — The  Fortifications. — Colonel  Prescott. — His  Martial 
Air. — Character. — The  Labors  and  Anxieties  of  the  Night  on  Bunker's  Hill.— The  Morning. — The  Surprise  of  the 
British. — The  Bombardment  of  the  Works  by  the  British  Ships. — Colonel  Prescott  encourages  his  Men. — The  British 
Troops  prepare  to  attack. — Activity  of  Putnam. — Lord  Howe. — His  Character. — The  Preparations  for  the  Struggle. — 
The  Excitement  of  the  People. — The  Stir  in  the  Provincial  Camp. — Putnam  on  the  Move. 


1775, 


SIXTEEN  thousand  New-England 
patriots  were  now  in  arms  before 
Boston.  Of  these,  about  three  fourths 
were  from  Massachusetts ;  and  the  rest 
from  Connecticut,  New  Hampshire,  and 


Rhode  Island.  One  common  sentiment 
of  patriotism  united  them  all  in  a  firm 
resolve  to  defend  their  country  against 
the  oppressor.  This  was  their  strength, 
which  was  sure  to  frive  them  the  ultimate 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WHO  WERE  THE  PROVINCIALS? 


159 


victory  over  their  enemies.  They  had 
their  weaknesses,  however;  —  and  these 
greatly  diminished  their  efficiency  as  an 
army  gathered  to  resist  the  disciplined 
troops  of  Great  Britain.  With  the  ex 
ception  of  a  few  veterans,  who  had  fought 
in  the  British  ranks  at  Louisburg  and 
Quebec,  most  of  the  men  were  fresh  from 
the  shop  and  the  field.  All  varieties  of 
trades  and  occupations  had  their  repre 
sentatives  in  the  American  ranks.  There 
was  even  a  divine,  the  Reverend  John 
Martin,*  of  Rhode  Island,  who,  having 
delivered  a  stirring  sermon  on  the  text 
— "  Be  not  ye  afraid  of  them :  remember 
the  Lord  which  is  great  and  terrible,  and 
fight  for  your  brethren,  your  sons,  and 
your  daughters,  your  wives,  and  your 
houses"  (Neh.  iv.  14),  shouldered  his  mus 
ket,  and  took  his  position  as  a  private  in 
the  line.  Most  of  the  Americans,  at  best, 
had  had  but  a  few  days'  militia-training, 
and  knew  nothing  of  war  but  its  "first 
steps."  They  could  form  ranks,  face  to 
the  right  and  left,  and  march,  keeping  an 
irregular  step  to  the  village  drum  and 
fife,  to  the  undisguised  ridicule  of  the 
critical  looker-on. 

There  was  hardly  a  man,  however,  in 
those  early  days,  who  could  not  steadily 
poise  his  gun  and  bring  down  his  game 
with  the  sure  aim  of  a  "  good  shot,"  In 
appearance,  they  had  none  of  the  look 
of  a  soldier.  In  dress  they  pretended  to 
no  uniformity,  and  civilized  broadcloth 
coats,  homespun  jackets,  and  coarse  shirt 
sleeves,  indiscriminately  diversified  the 
patriot  ranks.  Some  shouldered  fowling- 
pieces  rusty  from  neglect,  or  polished 

*  He  fought  bravely  at  Bunker's  hill. 


smooth  with  long  use  ;  some  carried  blun 
derbusses  ;  others  implements  of  peaceful 
husbandry,  sharpened  into  weapons  of 
war ;  and  but  few  were  provided  with  the 
"  regulation"  musket  and  its  efficient  bay 
onet. 

There  was  a  general  scarcity  of  mili 
tary  stores.  The  artillery  was  scanty,  the 
ammunition  small  in  quantity,  and  there 
was  a  great  want  of  tents,  clothing,  and 
even  roofs,  to  protect  the  troops  from  ex 
posure  to  the  weather.  There  was,  more 
over,  worse  than  all,  an  absence  of  unity 
in  command.  "  The  Massachusetts  men 
had  their  own  commander,  Connecticut 
and  the  other  provinces  theirs  ;"  and  each 
insisted  upon  being  governed  exclusively 
by  his  own  leader.  They  were  all,  how 
ever,  ready  to  fight  for  the  one  cause ; 
and  we  shall  see  how  this  unanimity  of 
feeling,  in  the  time  of  trial,  smoothed 
many  of  the  irregularities  which  came 
from  a  want  of  discipline. 

Among  the  officers  there  were  men  of 
military  experience,  and  well  able,  with 
proper  materiel,  and  under  favorable  cir 
cumstances,  to  organize  an  army,  and  to 
command  it.  Artemas  Ward,  the  gener 
al  of  the  Massachusetts  men,  had  fought 
gallantly  under  Abercrombie.  "  Old  Put," 
of  Connecticut,  had  learned  a  good  deal 
of  war  while  serving  as  a  private  in  the 
French  campaign.  Pomeroy  had  distin 
guished  himself  at  Louisburg,  and  so  had 
Gridley,  where  he  had  shown  great  skill 
as  a  military  engineer.  Prescott  and 
Stark,  too,  \vere  veterans,  who  had  fought 
bravely  while  serving  in  the  British  ranks 
against  the  French.  The  men  looked  up 
with  veneration  to  these  leaders,  and  con- 


160 


BATTLES -OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


dently  obeyed  their  orders.  Such  was 
the  patriot  force  now  loosely  scattered 
over  some  ten  miles  of  country  surround 
ing  Boston,  and  holding  that  city  in  a 
state  of  siege. 

The  town  itself  and  the  suburbs  were 
emptied  of  their  inhabitants.  Charles- 
town  was  almost  entirely  deserted,  but 
one  or  two  hundred  out  of  two  or  three 
thousand  of  the  population  being  left. 
A  few  only  of  the  citizens  returned  occa 
sionally,  to  plant  their  gardens,  mow  their 
grass,  and  look  after  the  property  which 
they  could  not  take  away  with  them. 
The  removals  of  the  citizens  from  Boston 
into  the  country  were  so  frequent,  that 
General  Gage  became  alarmed ;  and,  al 
though  he  had  pledged  himself  to  give 
passes  to  those  who  desired  to  leave,  he 
threw  all  kinds  of  obstructions  in  their 
way  to  prevent  their  departure.  The 
passes  were  made  out  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  prevent  those  who  bore  them  from 
carrying  anything  with  them.  "  All  mer 
chandise  was  forbid  ;  after  awhile,  all  pro 
visions  were  forbid;  and  now  all  merchan 
dise,  provisions,  and  medicine.  Guards 
were  appointed  to  examine  all  trunks, 
boxes,  beds,  and  everything  else,  to  be 
carried  out."  The  passports,  too,  were 
often  so  worded  as  to  separate  men  from 
their  wives  and  children,  whom  the  gov 
ernor  was  particularly  desirous  of  retain 
ing  as  pledges  for  the  "  good  conduct"  of 
the  patriots.  Passes  finally  were  refused 
altogether.  The  whole  city  was  given 
up  almost  entirely  to  the  British  soldiery. 
Occasional  skirmishes  occurred  between 
Gage's  outposts  and  the  American  patri 
ots,  but  nothing  was  effectually  done  un- 


June. 


til  the   arrival   of  reinforcements  from 
Great  Britain. 

A  large  number  of  British  troops  now 
arrived,  wrhich,  added  to  Gage's 
previous  force,  gave  him  an  ar 
my  of  ten  thousand  Avell-disciplined  sol 
diers,  mostly  by  long  service  inured  to 
war.  Three  British  generals  of  renown 
also  arrived  —  Howe,  Clinton,  and  Bur- 
goyne.  As  the  Cerberus  man-of-war,  on 
board  of  which  these  officers  came,  was 
entering  the  harbor,  she  spoke  a  coaster ; 
and  the  skipper,  being  asked  what  news 
there  was,  replied,  "  Boston  is  surround 
ed  by  ten  thousand  country-people."  — 
"  How  many  regulars  are  there  in  the 
town  ?"  asked  General  Burgoyne ;  and, 
being  told  there  were  afaout  five  thou 
sand,  he  cried  out,  with  astonishment: 
"  What !  ten  thousand  peasants  kee'p  five 
thousand  king's  troops  shut  up  ?  Well, 
let  us  get  in,  and  wre'll  soon  find  elbow- 
room  !"  This  expression.  "  elbow-room,"  * 
stuck  by  Burgoyne  during  all  the  time 
he  remained  in  America.  The  British 
generals  might  well  be  surprised  at  the 
state  of  things  in  Boston  ;  for,  when  they 
left  England,  they  had  no  thought  of  be 
ing  obliged  to  draw  the  sword,  and  sup 
posed  that  their  mere  appearance  would 
settle  all  the  difficulties.  They  had  ac 
cordingly  prepared  themselves  with  fowl 
ing-pieces  and  fishing-rods,  with  the  view 

*  "  General  Burgoyne  is  designated  by  Elbow-room  in  the 
satires  of  the  times.  It  is  said  that  he  loved  a  joke,  and 
used  to  relate  that,  after  his  Canada  reverses,  while  a  pris 
oner-of-war,  he  was  received  with  great  courtesy  by  the  Bos 
ton  people,  as  lie  stepped  from  the  Cluirlestown  ferry-boat; 
but  he  was  really  annoyed  when  an  old  lady,  perched  on  a 
shed  above  the  crowd,  cried  out  at  the  top  of  a  shrill  voice : 
'  Make  way,  make  way  —  the  general 's  coming !  Give  him 
elbow-room  !'  "  —  FKOTHINGIIAM. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          THE  PROVINCIALS  AND  THEIR  LEADERS. 


161 


of  "  good  sport"  in  America,  during  their 
leisure  hours,  when  off  duty. 

Gage,  thus  reinforced,  prepared  for  ac 
tive  hostilities.  As  a  beginning,  he  is 
sued  a  proclamation  which  excited  the 
indignation  of  each  patriot,  and  fixed  him 
more  firmly  in  his  resolve  to  fight  for  his 
country.  The  British  fretted  greatly  at 
the  idea  of  being  shut  up  within  Boston, 
and  now  resolved  to  extend  their  "  elbow- 
room."  It  was  accordingly  proposed,  in 
council,  to  take  possession  of  Dorchester 
and  the  other  heights  which  surrounded 
the  city. 

The  provincial  leaders  heard  of  these 
designs  of  the  enemy,  and  prepared  to 
counteract  them.  Several  plans  of  oper 
ation  were  considered,  and,  among  oth 
ers,  that  of  occupying  Bunker's  hill.  This 
hill  formed,  with  that  of  Breed's,  the 
heights  which,  overlooking  the  northern 
end  of  Boston,were  at  the  back  of  Charles- 
town,  and  gradually  descended  to  the  neck 
of  the  peninsula  upon  which  that  town  is 
situated.  The  object  was,  to  hem  the  Brit 
ish  in  effectually  on  that  side,  and  pre 
vent  all  sallies.  Many,  however,  opposed 
the  plan,  as  too  hazardous,  deeming  the 
militia  not  sufficiently  expert  as  yet  to 
be  capable  of  a  sustained  military  op 
eration.  But  others  contended  that  the 
country  was  growing  discontented  with 
the  inactivity  of  the  army,  and  that  the 
soldiers  themselves  were  eager  for  work. 
The  veteran  Putnam  and  the  martial 
Prescott  strongly  advocated  the  posses 
sion  of  Bunker's  hill,  by  which  means 
they  might  draw  out  the  British  and  have 
a  fair  fight  with  them.  These  officers 
professed  great  faith  in  the  provincials, 
21 


and  Putnam  said :  "  The  Americans  are 
not  afraid  of  their  heads,  though  very 
much  afraid  of  their  legs ;  if  you  cover 
these,  they  will  fight  for  ever."  Genera 
Ward  and  Warren  (who  had  been  ap 
pointed  a  brigadier-general,  but  had  not 
yet  received  his  commission)  opposed  the 
plan.  The  advice  of  Putnam  and  Pres 
cott,  however,  carried  the  day. 

The  American  forces  were  much  scat 
tered  about  the  neighborhood  of  Boston 
General  Thomas  was  at  Koxbury,  with 
four  thousand  Massachusetts  men ;  Gen 
eral  Greene  was  at  Jamaica  Plains,  with 
the  Rhode-Islanders;  where  also  was  Gen 
eral  Spencer,  with  the  larger  portion  of 
his  Connecticut  regiment.  The  main 
body  of  the  American  militia,  consisting 
of  some  nine  thousand  men  and  four  ar 
tillery-companies,  was  in  and  about  Cam 
bridge,  where  General  Ward  had  his  head 
quarters.  This  part  of  the  forces  was  dis 
tributed  over  a  considerable  surface  of 
ground,  and,  extending  through  most  of 
the  villages  over  Charlestown  neck,  with 
its  outposts  it  reached  even  the  base  of 
Bunker's  hill. 

With  the  main  body,  besides  General 
Ward  of  Massachusetts,  were  Putnam  of 
Connecticut,  Stark  and  Reed  of  New 
Hampshire,  and  Gridley  the  engineer. 
The  officers  and  men  were  quartered  in 
the  college-buildings,  churches,  taverns, 
farmyards,  and  in  tents  under  the  few 
breastworks  which  had  been  hastily  erect- 
ed  here  and  there.  It  may  be  well  here 
to  give  a  more  specific  description  of  the 
scene  of  the  struggle  which  we  are  about 
to  record.  We  borrow  it  from  Frothing- 
ham,  who  says  :  — 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


"  The  peninsula  of  Charlestown  is  situ 
ated  opposite  to  the  north  end  of  Boston, 
and  is  separated  from  it  by  Charles  river. 
It  is  about  a  mile  in  length  from  north 
to  south ;  and  its  greatest  breadth,  next 
to  Boston,  is  about  half  a  mile,  whence 
it  gradually  becomes  narrower  until  it 
makes  an  isthmus,  called  'The  Neck,'  con 
necting  it  with  the  mainland.  The  Mys 
tic  river,  about  half  a  mile  wide,  is  on  the 
east  side ;  and  on  the  west  side  is  Charles 
river,  which  here  forms  a  large  bay — a 
part  of  which,  by  a  dam  stretching  in  the 
direction  of  Cobble  hill,  is  a  millpond.  In 
1775,  the  Neck,  an  artificial  causeway, 
was  so  low  as  to  be  frequently  overflowed 
by  the  tides.  The  communication  with 
Boston  was  by  a  ferry  where  Charles- 
river  bridge  now  is,  and  with  Maiden  by 
another  called  'Penny  Ferry,'  where  at 

present  Maiden  bridge  is Bunker  hill 

begins  at  the  isthmus,  and  rises  gradually 
for  about  three  hundred  yards,  forming 
a  round,  smooth  hill,  sloping  on  two  sides 
toward  the  water,  and  connected  by  a 
ridge  of  ground  on  the  south  with  the 
heights  now  known  as  Breed's  hill.  The 
easterly  and  westerly  sides  of  this  height 
were  steep ;  on  the  east  side,  at  its  base, 
were  brick-kilns,  clay -pits,  and  much 
sloughy  land ;  and  on  the  west  side,  at 
the  base,  was  the  most  settled  part  of  the 

town The  easterly  portions  of  these 

hills  were  used  chiefly  for  hay-ground  and 
pasturing ;  the  westerly  portions  con 
tained  fine  orchards  and  gardens." 

Friday  night  (16th  of  June)  was 
the  time  appointed  for  taking  pos 
session  of  and  fortifying  Bunkers  hill.  Ac 
cordingly,  orders  were  issued  for  the  as- 


1775, 


sembling  of  the  troops  drafted  for  the 
purpose ;  and,  at  six  o'clock  in  the  even 
ing,  they  mustered  ready  for  duty.  They 
were  some  twelve  hundred  men  in  all, 
mostly  of  the  Massachusetts  regiments, 
although  Connecticut  supplied  a  fatigue- 
party  of  two  hundred.  Colonel  William 
Prescott,  of  Pepperell,  was  appointed  to 
command  the  Massachusetts  detachment; 
Captain  Thomas  Knowlton,  a  favorite  of 
Putnam,  and  an  officer  in  his  regiment, 
led  the  Connecticut  men.  The  two  field- 
pieces  and  forty-nine  artillerymen  were 
in  charge  of  Captain  Samuel  Gridley,  a 
son  of  Colonel  Richard  Gridley,  who  was 
the  chief-engineer  of  the  enterprise,  and 
was  to  plan  the  fortifications  about  to  be 
constructed. 

The  men  came,  as  had  been  ordered, 
provided  with  all  the  intrenching-tools 
that  could  be  found  in  the  camp,  and 
with  packs,  blankets,  and  provisions  for 
twenty-four  hours  (it  was  supposed,  for 
that  had  been  the  order).  They  were  not 
informed  of  the  precise  object  of  the  en 
terprise  in  which  they  were  about  to  en 
gage.  Their  leader,  Prescott,  had  received 
a  written  order  from  General  Ward,  direct 
ing  him  to  proceed  that  evening  to  Bun 
ker's  hill,  build  fortifications  there,  and  to 
defend  them  until  relieved.  This  order 
was,  however,  not  to  be  communicated  to 
his  force  until  they  had  reached  Charles- 
town  neck. 

Colonel  Prescott  presented  himself  in 
full  uniform,  '•  being  equipped  with  a  three- 
cornered  hat,  a  top-wig,  and  a  single-breastr 
ed  blue  coat,  with  facings,  and  lapped  up 
at  the  skirts ;"  and,  as  he  paraded  his  men, 
his  tall  figure,  thus  magnificently  arrayed, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  MARCH  TO  BUNKER'S  HILL. 


103 


and  his  military  bearing — for  he  was  a 
veteran,  having  served  as  a  lieutenant  at 
the  siege  of  Louisburg — were  the  admi 
ration  of  his  raw  and  miscellaneously- 
clothed  troops.  He  had,  moreover,  not 
only  the  look  und  spirit  of  a  good  soldier, 
but  was  known  to  be  a  most  determined 
patriot.  A  few  months  before  this  time, 
while  he  commanded  a  regiment  of  min 
ute-men,  his  brother-in-law,  Colonel  Wil- 
lard,  was  at  his  house,  and  endeavored  to 
dissuade  him  from  the  active  part  he  was 
taking  against  the  king's  government. 
Upon  his  being  reminded  that  if  he  should 
be  found  in  arms  against  his  sovereign,  his 
life  and  estate  would  be  forfeited,  Pres- 
cott  replied  :  "  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
on  that  subject.  I  think  it  probable  I 
may  be  found  in  arms,  but  I  will  never  be 
taken  alive.  The  tories  shall  never  have 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  me  hanged." 
Such  was  the  resolution  of  the  man  who 
was  intrusted  with  the  important  com 
mand  at  Bunker's  hill. 

The  men  having  been  reviewed  on  the 
common  by  General  Ward,  President 
Langdon  offered  up  an  earnest  prayer, 
and  dismissed  the  force  with  a  blessing. 
It  was  nine  o'clock  wrhen  they  began 
their  march,  which  had  been  purposely 
delayed  until  that  late  hour,  in  order  that 
it  might  be  under  the  cover  of  the  dark 
ness  of  the  night,  and  that  the  enemy 
might  thus  remain  unsuspicious  of  the 
movement.  Each  man  was  ordered  to 
keep  the  utmost  silence ;  and,  with  two 
men  carrying  dark  lanterns  in  front,  they 
thus  continued  their  still  and  groping 
march  to  Charlestown  neck,  where  they 
came  to  a  halt.  Here  the  veteran  Put 


nam  rode  up,  and  Major  Brooks  joined 
them.  A  guard  now  having  been  de 
tached  to  the  town  of  Charlestown,  the 
main  body  cautiously  continued  their 
march  along  Charlestown  neck,  to  the 
base  of  Bunker's  hill,  where  there  was 
another  halt,  when  Prescott  communi 
cated  his  orders  to  his  chief  officers. 

A  question  now  arose  as  to  the  hill  to 
be  fortified.  Bunker's  hill  was  the  place 
specified  in  the  written  orders ;  but,  as 
Breed's  hill  was  nearer  Boston,  it  was 
thought  by  most  of  the  officers  to  be 
the  most  suitable  for  the  purpose  intend 
ed.  There  seemed  considerable  difficul 
ty  in  coming  to  a  decision ;  but,  as  the 
night  was  passing,  Gridley  declared  there 
was  no  longer  any  time  to  spare,  and  it 
was  finally  determined  to  proceed  to 
Breed's  hill,  and  there  erect  the  main 
fortifications  —  although,  at  the  earnest 
persuasion  of  General  Putnam,  it  was  al 
so  agreed  to  raise  some  works  on  Bun 
ker's  hill  as  well.  The  men  were  now 
marched  farther  along  to  the  heights  of 
Breed's  hill,  and,  when  near  the  top,  they 
halted,  stacked  their  guns,  threw  off  their 
packs,  and  prepared  for  the  duty  of  the 
night.  Gridley  marked  out  the  lines  rap 
idly,  and  at  twelve  o'clock  had  his  men 
fairly  at  work. 

In  the  meantime,  Prescott  was  greatly 
anxious  lest  the  labors  of  the  provincials 
should  be  detected  by  the  British.  He 
sent  a  party  below  to  patrol  the  shore, 
and  keep  a  close  watcli  upon  the  men-of 
war  lying  in  Charles  river,  within  gun 
shot,  and  upon  the  battery  at  Copp's  hill, 
at  the  north  end  of  Boston,  just  across 
the  river.  Prescott  might  well  be  anx- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


ious,  with  the  enemy  so  threateningly 
near,  and  who,  if  once  aroused,  before  the 
American  works  were  completed,  would 
be  sure  to  defeat  the  whole  enterprise. 
The  patriots  had  so  far  succeeded,  by 
their  exceeding  caution,  in  escaping  ev 
ery  danger.  They  had  passed  the  neck 
in  safety,  under  the  very  guns  of  a  man- 
of-war  stationed  to  guard  that  approach. 
There  was  now  more  occasion  than  ever 
for  watchfulness,  as  their  present  position 
was  commanded  by  no  less  than  three 
armed  vessels  and  several  floating  batte 
ries,  whose  guns  pointed  directly  at  the 
height  where  the  Americans,  as  they  busi 
ly  worked,  were  totally  unprotected.  As 
their  thousand  spades  were  diligently 
plied,  the  progress  was  rapid ;  and  the 
men  continued  their  labor  without  inter 
ruption,  listening  with  eager  ears  to  the 
bell-watches  of  the  British  men-of-war, 
and  the  "  All 's  well !"  of  the  sentries  on 
the  opposite  shores.  Prescott  himself,  as 
the  night  was  passing,  became  more  and 
more  anxious.  He  continued  to  urge  on 
his  men  constantly  to  increased  effort; 
and  went  down  himself  to  the  shore,  to 
watch  the  enemy,  and  try  if  he  could 
catch  the  least  sound  of  movement  among 
the  ships  or  the  troops.  He  could  hear 
nothing,  in  the  quiet  summer  night,  but 
the  hour-watches  striking,  and  the  sen 
tries'  cry,  and  returned  up  the  hill  with 
words  of  renewed  encouragement  and 
hope.  The  men  went  to  work  with  great- 
er  spirit  than  ever ;  and  Colonel  Prescott 
saw,  with  great  satisfaction,  as  the  dawn 
of  morning  approached,  the  intrenchment 
rising  fast :  for  he  was  particularly  anx 
ious  to  have  a  screen  for  his  raw  troops, 


since  he  believed  it  would  be  difficult  to 
keep  them,  however  firm  in  their  patriot 
ism,  steady  enough  to  stand  for  the  first 
time  in  an  open  field  against  artillery  and 
well-disciplined  soldiers. 

When  morning  broke,  so  diligent  had 
been  the  Americans,  that  they  had  al 
ready  fortified  their  position  with  a  re 
doubt  almost  complete,  and  an  intrench 
ment  of  six  feet  in  height.  All  this,  more 
over,  had  been  done  in  such  silence  and 
secrecy,  that  nothing  was  observed  or 
suspected  by  the  British,  until  the  sailors, 
as  day  dawned,  saw  from  the  decks  of 
the  men-of-war  the  American  fortress, 
which  had  risen  upon  the  hill  during  the 
night  as  if  by  magic.  The  captain  of  the 
Lively  immediately  put  a  spring  on  his 
cable,  and,  hauling  in,  opened  a  fire  on 
the  works.  This  was  done  without  or 
ders  ;  and,  upon  the  admiral  being  made 
aware  of  it,  it  ceased  momentarily,  and 
then  each  of  his  ships  opened  its  broad 
side  and  played  unceasingly  upon  the 
hill.  The  British  battery  on  Copp's  hill 
also  joined  in  with  a  brisk  cannonade. 

The  firing  aroused  all  Boston 
and  the  neighboring  suburbs ; 
and  the  inhabitants  poured  out,  taking 
their  positions  on  the  housetops,  the  roofs 
of  the  churches,  and  the  hills,  looking 
anxiously  at  what  was  going  on.  The 
patriots  continued  their  work,  in  spite 
of  the  fatigue  of  the  night's  labor  and 
the  heat  of  the  summer  sun,  as  it  came 
out,  dartiiig  its  burning  rays  upon  them. 
For  awhile,  the  firing  from  the  British 
ships  and  the  battery  on  Copp's  hill  did 
no  damage,  as  the  provincials  were  pro 
tected  by  the  intrenchments.  A  private, 


June  17. 


REVOLUTIONARY  ] 


THE  FIRST  KILLED. 


165 


however,  having  ventured  out,  was  struck 
down  by  a  ball  and  instantly  killed.  This 
created  quite  a  panic  among  the  raw 
troops,  and  some  of  the  men  made  off  in 
fright. 

Colonel  Prescott,  in  order  to  reassure 
his  inexperienced  soldiers,  now  mounted 
the  parapet,  and,  walking  deliberately 
upon  it,  encouraged  them  at  their  work, 
and  talked  laughingly  of  the  chances  of 
war.  At  this  moment,  General  Gage  was 
watching  with  his  glass  the  patriot  move 
ment  on  the  hill,  and,  seeing  a  tall  per 
son  on  the  top  of  the  works,  asked  Coun 
cillor  Willard,  at  his  side,  "  Who  is  that 
person,  giving  orders  ?" — "  It's  my  broth 
er-in-law  Prescott,"  was  the  answer.  "  Will 
he  fight?"  inquired  the  general.  "Yes, 
sir,"  replied  Willard ;  "  he 's  an  old  soldier, 
and  will  fight  while  there  is  a  drop  of 
blood  left  in  his  veins!" — "The  works 
must  be  carried,"  was  all  that  Gage  said 
in  rejoinder. 

Colonel  Prescott,  succeeding  in  allay 
ing  the  panic,  and  getting  his  men  again 
at  work,  the  fortifications  continued  to 
make  fair  progress  ;  although  the  day,  as 
it  advanced,  became  fearfully  hot,  and 
the  troops  suffered  greatly,  not  only  from 
the  heat,  but  from  excessive  fatigue  and 
want  of  refreshments,  which  they  had 
strangely  neglected  to  provide  them 
selves  with.  The  men  at  last  began  to 
grow  discontented,  and  some  murmured 
loudly.  The  officers  took  up  their  cause, 
and  urged  the  colonel  to  send  to  General 
Ward,  at  Cambridge,  for  other  men  to 
take  the  place  of  those  who  had  worked 
all  night.  Prescott  refused,  saying  :  "  The 
<meiny  will  not  dare  to  attack  us ;  and  if 


they  do,  they  will  be  defeated.  The  men 
who  have  raised  the  works  are  the  best 
able  to  defend  them ;  already  they  have 
learned  to  despise  the  fire  of  the  enemy. 
They  have  the  merit  of  the  labor,  and 
shall  have  the  honor  of  the  victory." 

The  patriots  were  certainly  becoming 
fast  inured  to  warfare,  under  the  severe 
discipline  of  Prescott,  who  gave  them  a 
foretaste  of  the  summary  mode  of  doing 
business  in  the  time  of  war,  by  the  man 
ner  in  which  he  disposed  of  their  com 
rade,  the  first  killed  by  a  cannon-ball. 
His  death  was  reported  to  the  colonel  by 
one  of  the  subaltern  officers,  who  asked 
what  was  to  be  done  with  the  body. 
"  Bury  it,"  replied  Prescott.  "  The  chap 
lain,"  says  Irving,  describing  this  scene, 
"  gathered  some  of  his  military  flock  about 
him,  and  was  proceeding  to  perform  suita 
ble  obsequies  over  the  '  first  martyr,'  but 
Prescott  ordered  that  the  men  should 
disperse  to  their  work,  and  the  deceased 
be  buried  immediately."  The  object  of 
the  colonel  was,  no  doubt,  to  remove  as 
soon  as  possible  from  the  thoughts  of  his 
agitated  men  this  by  no  means  unusual 
event  of  battle,  upon  which  they  were 
disposed  to  dwell  with  a  persistency  of 
grief  quite  unsuitable  and  inconvenient 
to  the  occasion. 

The  British  troops  now  began  to  move, 
and  evidentlv  with  the  view  of  attacking 

*  O 

the  American  works  on  Breed's  hill.  Gen 
eral  Gage  had  held  a  council  of  his  offi 
cers  in  the  morning,  when  there  was  a 
dispute  respecting  the  plan  of  operations. 
Some,  of  whom  Clinton  was  one,  had  ex 
pressed  themselves  strongly  in  favor  of 
lauding  in  the  rear,  and,  by  thus  cutting 


166 


BATTLES  OF  -AMERICA. 


[_PART    II. 


off  the  retreat  of  the  patriots  from  the 
hill,  proposed  to  hem  them  in  within  the 
peninsula  between  two  British  fires :  oth 
ers,  and  among  them  Gage,  who  decided 
the  question,  were  for  crossing  directly 
from  Boston,  and  attacking  them  in  front. 
This  was  the  bolder  expedient,  but  far 
the  more  dangerous,  and  which  would 
probably  never  have  been  entertained, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  general's  absurd 
contempt  of  the  prowess  of  the  provin 
cials. 

The  Americans  heard  the  commotion 
in  the  British  camp  with  some  degree  of 
anxiety.  As  the  sound  of  the  wheels  of 
the  artillery-wagons  rattling  in  the  streets 
of  Boston,  and  of  the  beating  to  quarters 
of  the  troops  with  drum  and  fife,  came 
across  the  waters,  it  startled  the  raw  mi 
litia  with  such  an  alarming  expectation 
of  approaching  battle,  that  they  began  to 
show  considerable  solicitude  for  relief. 
Their  officers  now  urged  again  upon  Pres- 
cott  to  send  to  General  Ward  for  fresh 
men  as  substitutes  for  those  on  the 
ground,  who  were  completely  worn  out 
by  the  night's  fatigue  and  the  want  of 
refreshment.  Prescott  would  not  listen 
to  anything  which  should  deprive  the 
men  then  under  his  command  of  the  glo 
ry  which  he  earnestly  believed  would  be 
the  result  of  the  day,  but  was  induced  to 
send  a  messenger,  soliciting  reinforce 
ments  and  a  supply  of  provisions. 

Ward  had  been  already  urged  to  send 
aid  to  Prescott  early  in  the  morning,  by 
General  Putnam,  whose  experienced  eye 
saw  that  the  struggle  was  to  be  on  the 
hill,  and  that  the  day  would  be  a  hard 
one.  The  general  had  consented,  some 


what  unwillingly,  and  had  ordered  Stark 
and  Reed,  with  the  New-Hampshire  men, 
to  reinforce  Prescott.  These  were  on 
their  march  when  the  messenger  arrived 
from  the  hill.  Ward  now  refused  to  send 
any  more,  as  he  was  convinced  that  the 
British  attack  was  to  be  in  his  own  direc 
tion,  and  not  against  the  American  forti 
fications  on  Breed's  hill. 

As  the  clay  advanced,  the  British  suc 
ceeded,  by  means  of  the  flood-tide,  in 
floating  in  toward  the  Charlestown  pen 
insula  several  batteries,  by  which,  in  ad 
dition  to  the  ships,  they  were  enabled 
greatly  to  increase  their  fire.  The  pro 
vincials,  however,  took  no  further  notice 
of  the  cannonade,  than  by  an  occasional 
return-shot  from  a  single  gun  in  their  re 
doubt.  They  went  on  with  their  work 
until  eleven  o'clock,  when  they  stopped 
from  their  labors,  and,  having  laid  aside 
their  intrenching- tools, anxiously  awaited 
the  arrival  of  the  expected  refreshments 
and  reinfoi'cements  from  Cambridge. 

General  Putnam  now  rode  up  to  the 
redoubt,  and,  hurrying  to  Colonel  Pres 
cott,  told  him  that  the  intrenching-tools 
must  be  sent  off,  or  they  would  be  lost. 
The  colonel  replied  that,  if  he  sent  any 
of  the  men  away  with  the  tools,  not  one 
of  them  would  return.  To  this  the  gen 
eral  answered,  "  They  shall  every  man 
return !"  A  large  party  was  then  sent 
off  with  the  tools,  and  not  one  of  them 
returned !  Some  of  the  tools,  however, 
and  men  to  use  them,  got  no  farther  than 
Bunker's  hill,  where  Putnam  put  them  to 
irood  service  in  raising;  a  breastwork. 

o  <-> 

At  about  noon,  the  British  became  ac 
tive  in  their  preparations  for  attack.  The 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CHARACTER  OF  GENERAL  HOWE. 


June  17. 


men-of-war  were  hauled  closer  in  toward 
the  Charlestown  shore,  and  their  guns 
began  to  play  briskly  along  the  low  lands 
opposite  to  the  north  end  of  Boston, 
where  the  British  troops  were  embarking 
in  their  boats  and  barges.  Under  the 
cover  of  this  fire  from  the  ships,  and  a 
continued  cannonade  from  the  battery 
on  Copp's  hill,  the  troops  left  the 
Boston  side,  and  began  to  cross 
the  river.  The  barges,  twenty-eight  in 
number,  crowded  with  soldiers,  moved 
regularly  across  in  parallel  lines.  It  was 
a  bright  summer's  day,  and  the  mid-day 
sun  was  pouring  down  a  flood  of  light, 
which  glowed  brilliantly  in  the  stream, 
and  upon  the  flashing  accoutrements  of 
the  English  officers  and  soldiers  in  their 
uniforms  of  scarlet,  and  with  their  pol 
ished  arms  and  gilded  ornaments.  The 
troops  were  three  thousand  of  the  choi 
cest  of  Gage's  army,  and  were  led  by 
Major-General  Howe. 

WILLIAM  HOWE  was  a  younger  brother 
of  the  gallant  earl  who  fell  at  Ticonder- 
oga  in  1758.  So  greatly  had  that  youth 
ful  nobleman  endeared  himself,  by  his 
amiable  qualities,  to  the  Americans,  while 
fighting  with  them  in  the  common  cause 
against  the  French,  that  they  now  saw 
with  exceeding  pain  his  brother  present 
ing  himself  as  their  enemy.  "  America 
is  amazed  to  find  the  name  of  Howe  in 
the  catalogue  of  her  enemies ;  she  loved 
his  brother,"  were  the  warm  words  of  an 
address  of  the  continental  Congress  to 
the  people  of  Ireland.  William  Howe 
himself,  however,  was  not  the  man  to 
sympathize  strongly  with  any  sentimen 
tal  affection.  He  was  a  careless,  good- 


natured  man,  "  the  most  indolent  of  mor 
tals,  and  never  took  further  pains  to  ex 
amine  the  merits  or  demerits  of  the  cause 
in  which  he  was  engaged  than  merely  to 
recollect  that  Great  Britain  was  said  to 
be  the  mother-country ;  George  III.  king 
of  Great  Britain  ;  that  the  king  and  Par 
liament  formed  the  supreme  power ;  that 
a  supreme  power  is  absolute  and  uncon 
trollable  ;  that  all  resistance  must  conse 
quently  be  rebellion ;  but,  above  all,  that 
he  was  a  soldier,  and  bound  to  obey  in 
all  cases  whatever."*  Being  a  younger 
son,  he  was  "  provided  for"  by  a  commis 
sion  in  the  army,  and,  confidently  trustr 
ing  to  the  influence  of  his  aristocratic 
family  for  advancement,  gave  himself  lit 
tle  anxiety  about  the  present  or  the  fu 
ture.  He  was  brave,  like  all  his  race, 
and  with  his  handsome  figure,  six  feet  in 
height,  and  his  frank,  chivalrous  air,  made 
a  gallant-looking  officer.  He  had  no  pre 
tensions,  however,  to  the  genius  which 
can  conceive  great  enterprises,  and  bring 
them  to  triumphant  results.  He  had  nei 
ther  the  active  sympathy  with  the  good, 
of  the  young  lord  who  fell  at  Ticonder- 
oga,  nor  the  administrative  ability  and 
energy  of  Admiral  Howe  (at  this  time 
the  earl) ;  but,  like  his  two  brothers,  he 
possessed  courage,  and,  as  that  was  all 
that  was  required  in  the  present  emer 
gency,  he  had  the  spirit  equal  to  the  oc 
casion.  Lee  dashes  off  his  character  thus : 
"  He  is  naturally  good-humored,  complai 
sant,  but  illiterate  and  indolent  to  the  last 
degree,  unless  as  an  executive  soldier,  in 
which  capacity  he  is  all  fire  and  activity, 
brave  and  cool  as  Julius  Cassar.  His  un- 

*  General  Charles  Lee. 


168 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAHT  n. 


derstanding  is  rather  good  than  other 
wise  ;  but  was  totally  confounded  and 
stupefied  by  the  immensity  of  the  task 
imposed  upon  him.  He  shut  his  eyes, 
fought  his  battles,  drank  his  bottle,  had 

his  little advised  with  his  counsellors, 

received  his  orders,  shut  his  eyes,  fought 
again." 

Howe  succeeded  in  landing  his  men 
in  admirable  order  on  the  Charlestown 

shore,  and  drew  them  up  in  three 
June  17, 

lines.    Covered  as  they  were  by 

the  British  men-of-war  and  batteries,  no 
attempt  was  made  by  the  patriots  to  dis 
pute  their  landing;  and  they  quietly  took 
up  their  position  at  the  bottom  of  Breed's 
hill  at  the  north,  without  even  a  musketr 
shot  being  fired.  Howe  now  reconnoi 
tred  the  American  fortifications,  and,  find 
ing  them  more  formidable  than  he  had 
supposed,  thought  it  would  be  necessary 
to  have  reinforcements  before  he  could 
effectually  perform  the  duty  of  the  day, 
which  was,  "  to  drive  the  rebels  from  their 
works."  He  accordingly  sent  to  Gage 
for  more  troops  and  ammunition,  as,  by 
a  stupid  blunder,  the  cartridges  he  had 
brought  with  him  were  too  big  for  his 
fieldpieces !  In  the  meantime,  refresh 
ments  were  plentifully  distributed  to  the 
men,  who  were  allowed  to  stack  their 
arms,  and  gather  in  groups  upon  the 
grass,  while  they  ate  and  drank  to  their 
fill. 

The  landing,  however,  of  the  British 
troops  at  Charlestown,  though  unresisted, 
created  a  great  commotion  in  Cambridge, 
where  General  Ward  had  his  headquar 
ters,  and  where  were  gathered,  not  only 
the  main  body  of  the  provincial  troops, 


but  large  numbers  of  old  men,  women, 
and  children,  whose  sons,  husbands,  and 
sires,  had  shouldered  their  muskets,  and 
were  awaiting  a  struggle  which,  brought 
it  victory  or  defeat,  would  certainly  bring 
death  and  sorrow  to  many  a  loving  heart. 
The  bells  of  the  churches  and  college  at 
Cambridge  were  ringing ;  drums  beat  in 
the  American  camp ;  and  horses  clattered 
through  the  streets,  bearing  messengers 
with  orders  for  the  commanders  to  assem 
ble  their  regiments  and  prepare  to  march. 
Adjutants  were  seen  riding  fast  from  point 
to  point.  One  comes  by  at  full  gallop. 
"What  is  the  matter?"  shouts  a  youth, 
coming  quietly  out  of  his  lodgings  after 
dinner.  "  Have  you  not  heard  ?" — "  No." 
— "Why,  the  regulars  are  landing  at 
Charlestown,  and  we  are  all  to  meet  and 
march  immediately  to  Bunker's  hill,  to 
oppose  the  enemy."  The  adjutant  puts 
spurs  to  his  horse,  and  is  away,  shouting, 
"  Turn  out !  turn  out !"  The  youth  waits 
not,  but  runs,  gets  his  arms  and  ammuni 
tion,  and  hastens  to  his  company  in  the 
church  where  it  has  its  barrack,  and  finds 
his  comrades  almost  ready  for  the  inarch. 
They  are  soon  equipped  with  their  frocks 
and  trousers  of  "blue  turned  up  with  red," 
drawn  over  their  other  clothes ;  for  they 
are  loth,  with  a  rising  martial  pride,  to 
expose  themselves  in  other  than  a  mili 
tary  trim.  Thus  prepared,  off'  they  start. 
General  Putnam,  who  seemed  to  be  ev 
erywhere  that  day  (riding  hurriedly  now 
to  Bunker's  hill  and  urging  on  his  favor 
ite  work  there,  now  to  Breed's,  and  then 
to  Cambridge),  at  this  moment  came  gal 
loping  his  horse  to  headquarters,  and,  or 
dering  out  those  of  the  Connecticut  men 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WARREN  TO  THE  RESCUE. 


169 


that  were  left,  led  them  forward  to  the 
aid  of  Prescott  on  the  heights.  General 
Ward,  retaining  two  or  three  regiments 
to  protect  Cambridge,  sent  on  the  remain 
der  of  the  Massachusetts  troops  to  Charles- 
town. 

The  patriots  on  the  hill,  still  without 
reinforcements,  and  with  but  a  scanty 
supply  of  refreshments,  looked  down  from 
their  intrenchments  upon  the  brilliant 
array  of  the  enemy  below  them  with  re 
spectful  awe,  and  almost  with  envy,  as, 
half  famished  themselves,  they  beheld  the 
"red-coats"  making  jolly  over  their  abun 
dant  food  and  "  bucketfuls  of  grog."  The 
patriots  became  irritable  and  suspicious, 
and  even  charged  their  leaders  with  wan 
tonly  exposing  them  to  destruction.  The 
men  were  almost  exhausted  by  fatigue 
and  hunger ;  they  were  conscious  of  their 
inexperience  as  soldiers ;  they  saw  a  for 
midable  British  force,  with  its  immense 
resources  of  art,  threatening  them.  It 


was  natural  that  a  raw  militia,  under  such 
circumstances,  should  be  disheartened, 
and,  wanting  self-confidence,  should  tem 
porarily  lose  trust  in  their  leaders.  A 
the  reinforcements  did  not  come,  as  the 
supply  of  provisions  failed  them,  they  not 
unnaturally  became  disaffected.  They 
were,  however,  now  cheered  by  the  time 
ly  arrival  of  Generals  Warren  and  Pome- 
roy,  who  as  they  came  in  were  welcomed 
with  loud  hurrahs.  These  were  true  pa 
triots,  whom  none,  the  most  suspicious, 
ever  doubted.  Their  assurances  of  ap 
proaching  aid,  and  their  own  resolute  dec 
laration  to  share  as  volunteers  in  the  dan 
gers  of  the  day,  soon  dispelled  all  suspi 
cion,  and  encouraged  the  men  to  renewed 
hope  and  confidence.  The  ever-active 
Putnam,  too,  came  riding  in,  cheering  all 
by  his  hearty  words  and  his  undaunted 
bearing,  and  then  galloping  away  again, 
to  hurry  on  the  approaching  reinforce 
ments. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  Works  on  Bunker's  Hill  described. — The  Approach  of  the  British  Troops. — Arrival  of  Warren. — Howe's  Address 
to  his  Soldiers. — The  Struggle. — The  British  repulsed. — "Old  Put"  at  the  Guns. — Cheers  of  Victory. — The  British 
again  driven  back. — Charlestown  set  on  Fire. — General  Clinton  volunteers. — Another  Attack  and  Repulse. — The  Sub 
limity  of  the  Scene. — A  Final  Rally  of  the  British. — The  Last  Struggle,  and  Retreat  of  the  Provincials. — Howe  does 
not  pursue. — The  Dead  and  Wounded. — The  Moral  Victory  of  the  Provincials  at  Bunker's  Hill. — Death  of  Warren, 
and  the  Public  Grief. — His  History. — The  English  Loss. 


1775, 


THE  patriots,  with  renewed  spirit, 
indulged  less  in  despairing  reflec 
tions  about  the  formidable  aspect  of  the 
enemy  which  threatened  them,  and  set 
to  work  in  making  further  preparations 
for  defence.  Although  it  was  as  late  as 
22 


June  17. 


three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 

and  the  British  might  be  expectr 

ed  at  any  moment,  the  fortifications  on 

Bunker's  hill  were  by  no  means  complete. 

The  redoubt  which  had  been  built  was 

small,  being  only  eight  rods  square  ;  and 


170 


BATTLES  0V  AMERICA. 


[PART    IT 


although  tolerably  strong  in  front,  with 
its  projecting  angles,  it  was  weaker  on 
the  other  sides.  On  the  east  was  a  large 
field,  which  was  commanded  by  the  guns 
of  the  redoubt  on  that  side.  Continuous 
with  this  eastern  side  of  the  redoubt,  a 
breastwork  extended  a  hundred  yards 
north,  to  what  was  called  "  The  Slough." 
Beyond  this  slough  there  was  a  space  of 
some  three  hundred  feet  entirely  unpro 
tected  ;  while,  still  farther  on,  there  was 
a  rail-fence.  The  redoubt  and  the  breast 
work  were  cannon-proof  The  rail-fence 
merely  offered  a  partial  cover  to  a  marks 
man,  and  could  not  be  styled  a  defence, 
though  it  might  slightly  obstruct  the  ap 
proach  of  the  enemy.  Thus,  to  the  north 
of  the  breastwork  from  the  ridge  of  the 
hill  down  to  the  water's  edge  of  the  Mys 
tic  river,  there  was  nothing  but  a  rail- 
fence  ;  and  in  this  direction  there  offered 
an  opportunity  for  the  British  to  approach 
in  security. 

Howe  began  now  to  move  his  troops ; 
and,  as  his  right  wing  seemed  to  be  ta 
king  a  direction  along  the  shore,  which 
was  thought  to  indicate  the  design  of 
making  a  flank  movement  through  the 
unprotected  approach  at  the  north,  Pres- 
cott  ordered  Captain  Knowlton,  with  his 
Connecticut  men,  to  go  down  the  hill  and 
prepare  to  oppose  the  British  advance  in 
that  direction.  Knowlton  marched  and 
took  up  his  position  to  the  rear  of  the 
redoubt,  on  the  low  ground  which  sepa 
rated  like  a  shallow  valley  the  two  hills 
of  Bunker  and  Breed.  Here  he  found  a 
rail-fence,  which  topped  a  foot-wall  of 
stone,  and,  with  ready  Yankee  ingenuity, 
turned  it  into  a  very  tolerable  breast 


work.  Having  gathered  together  a  num 
ber  of  rails,  he  erected  another  fence,  be 
hind  the  original  one,  and  filled  in  the 
space  between  them  with  new-mown  hay 
which  he  found  ready  to  his  hand  in  the 
neighboring  fields. 

While  the  Connecticut  men  were  thus 
engaged  in  their  novel  style  of  construct 
ing  a  fortification,  Stark  came  to  their 
aid  with  his  New-Hampshire  men.  He 
had  been  long  in  crossing  from  Medford, 
whence  he  had  set  out  early  by  the  or 
ders  of  General  Ward.  As  he  was  com 
ing  deliberately  along  Charlestown  neck, 
and  the  British  man-of-war  which  com 
manded  that  point  was  blazing  at  him 
and  his  troops,  an  officer  suggested  to 
Stark  that  it  might  be  well  to  quicken 
their  march.  But  the  veteran  shook  his 
head,  and  replied,  "  One  fresh  man  in  ac 
tion  is  worth  ten  fatigued  ones."  His 
troops  continued  their  slow  and  regular 
step  as  before.  When  Stark  reached  the 
ground,  he  addressed  a  few  pithy  words 
to  his  men,  and,  after  sending  some  of 
them  to  aid  General  Putnam  at  the  works 
upon  Bunker's  hill,  set  the  rest,  to  labor 
with  Knowlton's  party  at  the  rail-and- 
hay  battery. 

When  the  struggle  was  about  to  com 
mence,  Warren  stationed  himself  in  the 
redoubt.  As  he  came  in,  he  was  offered 
by  Prescott  the  chief  command,  but  de 
clined,  saying,  "I  am  come  to  fight  as  a 
volunteer,  and  feel  honored  in  being  al 
lowed  to  serve  under  so  able  a  command 
er."  Pomeroy  went  down  to  do  duty  at 
the  rail-fence,  and  here  Warren  had  also 
gone  and  remained  momentarily,  when 
the  command  there  was  likewise  offered 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  FIRST  ONSET  AT  BUNKER'S  HILL. 


171 


him.  "  No,"  he  replied ;  "  I  only  wish  to 
know  where  I  can  be  of  most  service  as 
a  private  soldier." — "The  redoubt,"  said 
General  Putnam,  who  also  remarked  that 
he  would  be  there  under  cover.  "  Do  n't 
think  I  seek  a  place  of  safety  !  where  will 
the  attack  be  the  hottest?"  sharply  re 
joined  Warren.  Putnam  again  replied  : 
"  The  redoubt,  for  that  is  the  enemy's  ob 
ject  ;  and,  if  that  can  be  maintained,  the 
day  is  ours."  This  decided  Warren,  and 
he  returned  to  the  redoubt ;  but  nothing 
would  induce  him  to  take  the  command, 
as,  although  he  had  been  chosen  general, 
he  had  not  yet  received  his  commission. 

This  was  now  the  disposition  of  the 
American  force  at  the  moment  of  acting. 
Colonel  Prescott  was  at  the  redoubt-  and 
breastwork,  with  the  Massachusetts  part 
of  the  detachment  which  had  arrived  on 
the  ground  the  evening  before,  and  had 
raised  the  fortifications.  The  Connecti 
cut  troops, under Knowlton, together  with 
the  New-Hampshire  men,  commanded  by 
Stark,  were  at  the  rail-fence  battery ;  and 
here  also,  for  a  time,  was  General  Putnam. 
Captains  Gridley  and  Callender  had  their 
artillery-company  and  fieldpieces  posted 
at  the  exposed  space  between  the  breast 
work  and  the  rail-fence.  As  a  reinforce 
ment  of  Massachusetts  troops  came  up  at 
the  last  moment,  some  of  them  entered 
the  redoubt,  while  others  planted  them 
selves  on  the  outside,  to  the  right. 

The  British  forces  having  remained  at 
Moulton's  point,  where  they  landed,  un 
til  they  had  received  the  reinforcements 
and  ammunition  which  had  been  sent  for 
to  Boston,  now  prepared,  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  to  make  the  assault  on 


the  American  works  upon  Breed's  hill. 
His  troops  being  drawn  up,  General  Howe 
rode  in  front  and  addressed  them: — 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  very  happy  in  hav 
ing  the  honor  of  commanding  so  fine  a 
body  of  men.  I  do  not  in  the  least  doubt 
but  that  you  will  behave  like  English 
men,  and  as  becometh  good  soldiers. 

"  If  the  enemy  will  not  come  from  their 
intrenchments,  we  must  drive  them  out, 
at  all  events ;  otherwise  the  town  of  Bos 
ton  will  be  set  on  fire  by  them ! 

"  I  shall  not  desire  one  of  you  to  go  a 
step  farther  than  where  I  go  myself  at 
your  head ! 

"Remember,  gentlemen,  we  have  no 
recourse  to  any  resources,  if  we  lose  Bos 
ton,  but  to  go  on  board  our  ships,  which 
will  be  very  disagreeable  to  us  all !" 

These  spirited  words  were  received  by 
the  soldiers  with  a  hearty  cheer,  and  then 
the  army  began  to  move.  The  left  wing, 
under  General  Pigot,  was  to  advance  up 
the  hill  in  face  of  the  redoubt,  and  at 
tempt  to  take  it  by  assault.  Howe  him 
self  was  to  lead  the  right  wing  against 
the  American  lines  at  the  rail-fence,  and 
thus  endeavor,  by  a  flank  movement,  to 
surround  the  rear  and  cut  off  the  retreat 
from  the  works. 

This  disposition  having  been  made,  the 
march  began.  Howe  orders  his  artillery 
on  the  flank  to  fire ;  and  simultaneously 
the  English  ships,  the  floating  batteries, 
and  Copp's  hill,  join  in  writh  a  furious  can 
nonade,  in  order  to  cover  the  British  ad 
vance.  The  people  in  Boston,  crowding 
the  tops  of  the  houses  and  churches,  are 
listening  to  the  thundering  cannon  with 
stifled  hearts ;  and  watching,  at  every 


172 

break  in  the  thick  smoke,  with  eager 
glance,  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  slightest 
movement.  On  Copp's  hill  stand  the  two 
British  generals  Clinton  and  Burgoyne, 
coolly  contemplating  with  professional 
interest  the  military  manoeuvres,  and  not 
for  a  moment  doubting  the  success  of  the 
British  regulars. 

Howe's  artillery  soon  ceased  its  fire ; 
not,  however,  before  it  had  silenced  the 
guns  of  Gridley  and  Callender  on  the 
hill.  The  latter  even  withdrew  to  Bun 
ker's  hill,  declaring  that  his  cartridges 
were  useless  from  being  too  large.  Here 
he  was  confronted  by  the  ubiquitous  Put 
nam,  who  would  listen  to  no  excuses,  and 
ordered  him  back  to  his  post  on  Breed's. 
The  panic-stricken  Callender,  however, 
did  not  return,  and  his  men  abandoned 
him  in  contempt.  His  fieldpieces  were 
then,  by  the  order  of  Putnam,  dragged 
by  some  of  his  own  men  to  the  rail-fence, 
and  there  posted  for  its  defence.  Howe's 
artillery  had  ceased  its  fire,  on  account 
of  another  stupid  blunder,  twelve-pound 
balls  having  been  for  the  most  part  sup 
plied  in  lieu  of  six-pound,  which  the  guns 
required.  They  were  then  ordered  to  be 
charged  with  grape.  The  artillery-wag 
ons,  however,  got  mired  at  the  base  of 
the  hill,  and  became  fixed  in  a  position 
where  the  guns  were  of  little  service 

General  Pigot  was  now  advancing  up 
the  hill,  at  a  deliberate  and  regular  pace. 
His  men  began  at  once  to  fire,  although 
they  were  at  a  great  distance,  and  con 
tinued  to  discharge  their  muskets  as  fast 
as  they  could  load  them,  and  at  every 
step  forward.  The  Americans  had  been 
ordered  not  to  return  a  shot  until  the 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA 


[PART  n. 


British  were  within  thirty  or  forty  paces. 
"  Powder  is  scarce,  and  must  not  be  wast 
ed  !" — "Fire  low:  aim  at  the  waistbands!" 
— "  Wait  until  you  see  the  white  of  their 
eyes!" — "Aim  at  the  handsome  coats!" 
— "Pick  off  the  commanders !"  Such  were 
the  expedient  but  rather  un  military  or 
ders  hurriedly  given  by  raw  officers  to 
raw  men.  Some  of  the  provincials,  how 
ever,  lost  patience,  and  began  to  return 
the  British  fire.  Colonel  Prescott  angrily 
rebuked  them  for  their  disobedience ;  and 
some  of  his  officers  sprang  on  the  top  of 
the  parapet  of  the  redoubt,  and  kicked 
up  the  muskets  which  the  men  were  lev 
elling,  and  about  to  let  off! 

Pigot  had  now  brought  his  grenadiers 
quite  close  to  the  works,  wlien  Prescott 
ordered  his  whole  line  to  fire.  The  effect 
of  the  volley  was  murderous,  for,  as  each 
American  was  a  marksman,  hardly  a  gun 
missed  its  aim.  The  British,  however, 
quickly  filled  in  the  empty  places  of  their 
dead,  and,  firmly  holding  their  ground, 
returned  the  fire,  but  with  little  damage 
to  the  Americans,  who  were  protected  by 
their  redoubt  and  breastwork.  The  sec 
ond  volley,  which  is  even  more  effective 
than  the  first,  is  so  terrible,  that  the  ene 
my  are  staggered,  confused,  and  driven 
back  in  flight.  The  officers  run  down 
after  their  men,  and,  brandishing  their 
swords,  passionately  urge  them  back. 
They  succeed  in  rallying  them  again  to 
face  the  redoubt,  but  are  once  more  re 
pulsed  ;  and  Pigot,  agonized  by  the  car 
nage,  and  hopeless  of  success,  orders  a 
retreat.  The  Americans  shouted  out  a 
loud  and  triumphant  hurrah  as  the  ene 
my  retired. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CHARLESTOWN  IN  FLAMES. 


178 


While  Pigot  was  thus  repulsed  in  front, 
Howe  was  marching  his  right  wing  in 
confidence  against  the  left  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  These  latter  were  ready  for  the  en 
emy  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  British  showed 
themselves,  General  Putnam  ordered  the 
artillery  abandoned  by  the  inefficient  Cal- 
lender  to  fire,  which  was  done  with  ex 
cellent  effect, "  Old  Put"  himself  pointing 
the  pieces.  As  the  enemy  advanced,  but 
when  still  at  some  distance,  several  of  the 
provincials,  contrary  to  orders,  began  to 
fire.  Putnam,  however,  soon  put  a  stop 
to  this,  declaring  he  would  strike  down 
the  next  man  who  dared  to  disobey.  The 
premature  musket- balls  succeeded  in 
drawing  the  fire  of  the  British  lines,  which 
then  began  a  regular  succession  of  vol 
leys  ;  but  their  shots  were  too  high,  and 
passed  over  the  heads  of  the  Americans. 

The  eager  provincial  marksmen  were 
now  permitted  to  return  the  enemy's  fire, 
which  they  did  with  the  usual  efficacy  of 
such  good  shots.  Each  man  rested  his 
musket  upon  the  fence,  and,  deliberately 
taking  aim,  did  not  fail  to  bring  down  his 
victim.  The  officers  were  here,  as  at  the 
redoubt,  picked  off  the  first.  "  There ! 
see  that  officer!" — "Let  us  have  a  shot 
at  him !"  they  cried,  in  their  eager  rival 
ry  to  shoot.  The  execution  was  as  ter 
rible  as  it  was  sure  ;  and  the  British  ranks 
were  so  affrighted  by  the  carnage,  that 
they  began  to  retreat  in  disorder,  after 
the  very  first  volley.  The  Americans 
were  in  high  spirits,  to  which  they  gave 
vent  in  cheers  of  victory. 

When  these  repulses,  so  disheartening 
to  the  British,  were  observed  by  Gage, 
he  determined  to  fulfil  a  purpose  which 


he  had  resolved  upon  before  the  strug 
gle.  This  purpose  Avas,  to  burn  Charles- 
town.  Orders  were  now  given  to  the 
battery  at  Copp's  hill  to  shower  shells 
upon  the  town ;  and  soon,  as  the  houses 
and  buildings  were  of  wood,  the  whole 
place  was  in  a  blaze.  Simultaneously, 
Howe  and  Pigot  had  rallied  their  troops, 
and  were  commencing  a  second  assault. 
General  Clinton,  who  had  been  so  coolly 
looking  on  from  the  heights  of  Copp's 
hill  in  the  beginning,  no  sooner  observed 
the  repulse  of  his  boasted  regulars,  than, 
without  awaiting  orders,  he  jumped  into 
a  boat,  crossed  the  river,  and  hurried  to 
the  aid  of  his  comrades. 

The  Americans,  too,  in  confident  en 
thusiasm,  were  spiritedly  preparing  for 
the  renewed  struggle.  Colonel  Prescott 
was  encouraging  his  troops  with  well- 
deserved  praise,  and  urging  them  to  obe 
dience  in  regard  to  the  reserve  of  their 
fire.  The  busy  Putnam  had  galloped  off 
for  reinforcements,  and  was  back  with  a 
few  stragglers  only.  He  inspirited  his 
men,  however,  who  had  done  their  duty 
so  well  before,  with  promises  of  the  same 
success  on  the  same  good  conduct  in  the 
corning  action. 

The  struggle  again  began.  The  Britr 
ish  troops  seemed  resolved  on  victory, 
but  did  not  alter  their  plans  of  attack. 
As  before,  Pigot  was  moving  up  the  hill 
in  front  of  the  redoubt,  and  Howe  was 
renewing  his  flank  movement.  The  well- 
disciplined  regulars  marched  slowly  and 
steadily  to  their  work. 

To  the  beholder,  the  whole  scene  of 
action  was  terrific.  General  Burgoyne, 
who  was  a  looker-on  from  the  battery  at 


174 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PART  n. 


Copp's  hill,  said :  "  Sure  I  am,  nothing 
ever  has  been  or  can  be  more  dreadfully 
terrible  than  what  was  to  be  seen  or 
heard  at  this  time.  The  most  incessant 
discharge  that  ever  was  heard  by  mortal 
ears ! . . .  Terrible  indeed  was  that  scene/' 
he  repeats, "  even  at  our  distance.  The 
western  horizon  was  one  huge  body  of 
smoke,  and  in  the  evening  a  continued 
blaze ;  and  the  perpetual  sound  of  can 
non  and  volleys  of  musketry  worked  up 
our  imaginations  to  a  high  degree  of 
fright,"  The  scene  was  no  doubt  terrific, 
but  the  patriots  beheld  it  without  dismay, 
though  not  without  indignation.  The 
provincial  troops  were  not  even  inconve 
nienced,  for,  as  the  summer  breeze  quick 
ened  toward  evening,  the  dark  clouds  of 
smoke  were  driven  aside,  and  the  enemy 
so  revealed  to  view,  that  each  American 
musket  could  mark  its  victim  in  the  clear 
light  of  the  summer  afternoon. 

The  British  came  on  as  before,  firing 
at  every  step  as  they  advanced.  The 
Americans,  more  obedient  than  on  the 
former  occasion,  reserved  their  fire  until 
the  enemy  were  close  to  them,  and  then 
sent  forth  a  murderous  volley.  The  Brit 
ish  troops  bore  it  well,  notwithstanding 
its  fatal  effect  upon  their  ranks,  and  held 
their  ground.  The  second  volley  stag 
gered  them,  however,  and  sent  them  fly 
ing  back.  Their  officers  did  their  best  to 
rally  them  —  ordering,  threatening,  and 
even  trying  to  goad  them  back  to  their 
duty  with  the  points  of  their  swords.  It 
was,  however,  nil  in  vain :  the  men  fled 
to  the  bottom  of  the  hill.  Howe  was  con 
spicuous  among  the  officers  in  their  efforts 
to  encourage  the  troops  by  their  words 


and  own  daring  example.  He  was  con 
stantly  in  the  van  during  the  attack  up 
on  the  fence ;  and,  as  one  after  another 
of  his  aids  was  shot  down,  and  his  men 
were  falling  back,  he  was  left  almost 
alone,  exposed  as  a  prominent  mark  to 
the  whole  American  line  of  sharp-shoot 
ers.  But  neither  his  example,  his  com 
mands,  nor  his  threats,  could  induce  his 
troops  to  advance  in  the  face  of  the  ter 
rible  fire  of  their  foes.  They  continued 
their  retreat,  and  in  great  disorder ;  some 
even  rushed  to  the  shore,  and  sprang  in 
to  the  boats. 

At  this  moment,  the  thousands  of  pa 
triots  who  beheld  the  scene,  from  every 
neighboring  point  of  view,  were  cheered 
with  almost  certain  hope  of  final  victory ; 
while  the  British  looked  on  from  Boston 
with  anxious  alarm.  Burgoyne;who  was 
a  witness  of  the  whole  action  from  Copp's 
hill,  acknowledged  that  the  moment  was 
critical,  for  he  saw  that  Howe's  forces 
were  staggered.  He  declared  loudly  that 
it  Avould  require  the  utmost  exertion  ol 
all  the  officers,  from  the  generals  down 
to  the  subalterns,  to  repair  the  disorder 
which  the  hot  and  unexpected  fire  of  the 
Americans  had  produced.  A  long  pause 
now  ensued,  while  Howe  and  his  gener 
als  were  striving  to  reform  their  disor 
dered  troops. 

Prescott,  in  the  meanwhile,  pointing  to 
the  heaps  of  the  dead  and  dying,  which 
lay  scattered  on  the  hill  to  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  works,  reminded  his  men  of 
the  good  service  they  had  done,  and  en 
couraged  them  to  meet  with  the  same 
spirit  the  next  attack.  "If  they  are 
driven  back  once  more,"  said  he,  "  they 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  LAST  ASSAULT. 


175 


will  never  rally  again."  The  men  an 
swered  him  with  a  cheer,  and  cried  out, 
"  We  are  ready  for  the  red-coats  again !" 
The  colonel,  however,  felt  more  anxiety 
than  he  cared  to  express.  He  knew  that 
the  ammunition  was  failing  ;  and  so  long 
had  he  been  expecting  in  vain  the  arri 
val  of  reinforcements,  that  he  almost  gave 
up  all  hope  Of  any  aid  reaching  him  in 
time.  The  British  still  hesitated  about 
renewing  the  attack ;  and  the  pause  ap 
peared  so  long,  that  the  Americans  began 
to  hope  that  the  work  of  the  day  was 
over,  and  that  the  victory  was  theirs. 

While  Prescott  was  anxiously  await 
ing  reinforcements,  Putnam  was  doing  his 
best  to  bring  them.  He  rode  to  the  rear 
of  Bunker's  hill,  and,  meeting  with  a  regi 
ment  of  Massachusetts  men,  detailed  some 
for  work  on  the  fortifications,  and  sent 
the  rest  to  do  duty  at  the  fence.  He 
found  Gridley  falling  back,  with  the  view 
of  covering,  as  he  said,  the  retreat  of  the 
patriots,  and  tried  to  bring  him  to  the 
ground  again,  but  did  not  succeed.  Put 
nam  was  indefatigable,  but  failed  to  get 
the  aid  which  he  hoped,  and  returned  to 
his  post. 

Howe  now  determined  upon  another 
assault.  Some  of  his  officers  loudly  op 
posed  it,  saying  it  would  be  downright 
butchery  to  lead  the  men  against  the  ter 
rible  American  fire.  The  general,  how 
ever,  insisted,  declaring  that  British  hon 
or  was  at  stake.  They  must  "  fight,  con 
quer,  or  die,"  as  it  would  never  do  for 
••'  English  soldiers  to  give  way  before  a 
rabble  rout  of  rustic  rebels ;  and,  besides," 
he  continued,  "  there  is  no  chance  now  to 
retreat,  as  all  the  boats  are  on  the  other 


side  of  the  river."  General  Clinton  ar 
riving  at  this  moment,  and  bringing  with 
him  a  timely  reinforcement  of  four  hun 
dred  marines,  the  men  were  encouraged, 
and  resigned  themselves,  though  with  a 
disheartened  air,  to  the  seemingly  des 
perate  orders  of  their  commander.  Howe 
had  learned  wisdom  from  the  "  rustics," 
and  prudently  assumed  their  mode  of 
warfare.  His  troops  were  ordered  to  re 
serve  their  fire  until  close  to  the  works, 
which  it  was  now  determined  to  make 
the  main  object  of  attack.  The  artillery 
was,  moreover,  to  be  applied  more  effect 
ually,  and  to  be  brought  up  in  such  a 
position  as  to  rake  the  breastwork  and 
fence.  Clinton  and  Pigot  were  to  lead 
the  left  division,  against  the  redoubt; 
while  Howe  had  reserved  for  himself  and 
his  grenadiers  and  light-infantry  the  at 
tack  on  the  breastwork. 

The  British  officers  were  determined 
to  carry  the  American  works  at  all  haz 
ards  of  toil  and  death.  They  were  en 
couraged  by  the  .discovery  that  the 
"rebels "were  almost  without  ammuni 
tion,  and  the  fact — from  the  raking  fire 
which  the  English  ships  and  batteries 
succeeded  in  keeping  up  across  Charles- 
town  neck  —  that  the  Americans  had  but 
little  chance  of  receiving  reinforcements. 
The  troops  were  ordered,  if  their  fire 
should  prove  ineffectual,  to  carry  the 
works  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  To 
lighten  them  for  this  active  service,  the 
men  were  told  to  throw  off  their  knap 
sacks  ;  and  some  of  the  soldiers,  on  that 
hot  day,  stripped  themselves  to  their 
shirt-sleeves. 

Prescott  now  beheld  the  steady  ap- 


176 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


proach  of  the  British  with  unusual  anxi 
ety.  His  ammunition  was  reduced  to  a 
few  artillery -cartridges.  These  he  or 
dered  to  be  opened,  and  the  powder  they 
contained  to  be  distributed  to  his  troops, 
begging  them  "  not  to  waste  a  grain  of 
it,  and  to  be  sure  to  make  every  shot 
tell."  A  few  only  of  the  Americans  had 
bayonets  to  their  muskets,  and  these  were 
stationed  at  the  most  exposed  points  of 
the  redoubt.  Such  were  the  desperate 
straits  to  Avhich  the  rest  were  reduced 
for  want  of  means  of  defence,  that  they 
collected  together  heaps  of  stones,  to  use 
as  missiles  against  the  enemy;  and  the 
men,  laying  hold  by  the  barrels,  bran 
dished  their  muskets,  and  declared  that 
they  would  beat  back  the  British  with 
the  butt-ends. 

Howe  first  made  a  show  of  attack  on 
the  rail-fence,  but  he  soon  concentrated 
his  force  against  the  works.  His  artille 
ry  was  so  brought  to  bear,  that  it  swept 
the  breastwork  from  end  to  end,  and  drove 
its  defenders  into  the  redoubt.  Prescott 
saw  the  success  of  this  manoeuvre,  and 
feared  the  fatal  result.  He  was,  however, 
firm  in  his  determination  to  resist  to  the 
last,  and  continued  resolutely  to  give  his 
orders,  with  his  usual  calmness.  His  men, 
whose  powder  was  reduced  to  little  more 
than  a  single  charge  each,  were  again  and 
again  ordered  to  reserve  their  fire  until 
the  latest  moment.  When  the  enemy 
had  reached  within  twenty  yards  of  the 
redoubt,  the  word  "  Fire  !"  was  given,  and 
the  Americans  sent  forth  another  of  their 
volleys,  with  the  usual  terrific  effect :  the 
British  ranks  were  broken  by  the  numer 
ous  dead,  and  the  whole  body  staggered 


momentarily ;  but  the  columns  quickly 
formed  again,  and,  without  returning  the 
fire,  advanced  steadily  forward.  As  usual, 
the  English  officers  suffered  the  most  by 
the  American  fire,  several  of  them  having 
been  killed,  and  General  Howe  himself 
wounded  in  the  foot.  He  continued,  how 
ever,  to  lead  on  his  troops,  without  giving 
a  momentary  regard  to  his  own  suffering. 

The  Americans,  with  hardly  any  am 
munition  left,  could  no  longer  fire  their 
fatal  volleys ;  and  their  shots  were  so 
scant,  that  the  British  troops  succeeded 
in  marching  up  to  the  redoubt,  and  be 
gan  to  scale  its  wralls.  A  spirited  young 
Irish  officer  was  the  first  to  mount  the 
parapet,  which  he  had  just  reached,  shout 
ing,  "  The  day  is  ours  !"  when  he  was  shot 
down,  and  with  him  fell  those  who  had 
immediately  followed.  Major  Pitcairn. 
who  commanded  the  British  in  the  skir 
mish  at  Lexington,  was  among  the  earli 
est  on  the  wall,  and,  as  he  mounted,  cried 
out,  "  Now  for  the  glory  of  the  marines  !" 
when  he  was  toppled  over  by  a  mortal 
shot,  from  a  negro  volunteer. 

The  British  soldiers  now  began  to 
swarm  over,  while  the  Americans  inef 
fectually  attempted  to  resist  them  by 
hurling  stones  at  them.  This  only  en 
couraged  the  enemy,  for  they  were  con 
scious  that  the  ammunition  of  the  re 
doubt  was  exhausted.  The  strnsro-le  now 

GO 

was  hand  to  hand.  The  British  had  the 
advantage  of  their  bayonets  and  reserved 
fire,  but  the  Americans  made  a  manful 
resistance  with  the  stocks  of  their  mus 
kets.  It  was,  however,  in  vain.  Gener 
al  Pigot  had  succeeded,  by  the  aid  of  a 
tree,  in  mounting  the  wall ;  and,  spring- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


RETREAT  OF  THE  PROVINCIALS. 


177 


ing  down  into  the  redoubt,  was  followed 
by  swarms  of  his  men,  whose  bristling 
bayonets  filled  the  space  within;  and 
their  thronging  steps,  stirring  up  the 
ground,  raised  such  a  cloud  of  dust,  that 
the  outlet  of  the  fortress  could  scarcely 
be  seen.  Colonel  Prescott,  seeing  that 
all  hope  of  further  successful  resistance 
was  gone,  ordered  his  men  to  retreat. 
Driven  as  they  were  into  a  corner,  it  was 
difficult  for  them  to  get  out.  Some  scram 
bled  over  the  top  of  the  walls,  and  others 
had  to  cut  their  way  through  the  oppo 
sing  enemy.  Prescott  himself  was  the 
last  to  retire,  and  only  succeeded  in  es 
caping  by  striking  down,  with  his  sword, 
bayonet  after  bayonet,  thrust  at  his  life. 
He  retained  his  martial  bearing  through 
out.  "  lie  did  not  run,  but  stepped  along, 
with  his  sword  up."  Notwithstanding  his 
cool  and  deliberate  movements,  he  got 
off  unharmed,  although  both  his  "  banyan 
and  waistcoat  were  perforated  in  several 
places."* 

As  the  British  took  possession  of  the 
American  works,  they  set  up  a  loud  huz 
za  of  triumph.  They  then  reformed,  and 
began  to  fire  upon  the  retreating  provin 
cials,  doing  more  havoc  than  they  had 
yet  done.  Warren  was  at  this  moment 
killed  by  a  shot  through  the  head ;  and, 
as  he  was  among  the  last  to  leave  the 
works,  there  were  none  to  carry  him  from 
the  field.  Colonel  Gardner  was  killed ; 
Gridley  and  Bridge  were  wounded ;  and 
a  number  of  other  officers,  with  many 
privates,  suffered. 

The  Americans  at  the  rail-fence,  in  the 
meanwhile,  had  gallantly  held  their  posi- 

*  Frothinghum. 
23 


tion,  having  resisted  all  attempts  to  turn 
their  flank.  When,  however,  they  saw 
that  the  redoubt  was  in  possession  of  the 
enemy,  and  that  their  comrades  were  in 
full  retreat,  they  also  retired,  but  with 
wonderful  regularity  for  such  raw  troops. 
Their  steady  courage  and  excellent  or 
der  saved  Prescott's  force  from  being  ex 
terminated;  for,  by  defending  the  rear, 
they  prevented  the  British  troops  from 
surrounding  the  American  main  body, 
and  thus  cutting  off  its  retreat.  General 
Putnam  steadily  withdrew  his  men,  from 
their  position  at  the  base,  up  the  ascent 
of  Bunker's  hill,  where  he  strove  to  bring 
the  rest  of  the  retreating  forces  to  a  stand. 
He  rode  to  the  rear  of  the  troops,  while 
the  British  bullets  wrere  flying  thick  and 
fast  about  his  head,  and  entreated  them 
to  turn  again  and  front  the  enemy.  "  We 
can  make  a  stand  here !"  he  cried ;  "  we 
can  stop  them  yet.  In  God's  name,  form 
and  give  them  one  shot  more !"  The 
slaughter  continued  dreadful;  and  still 
"  Old  Put,"  nothing  daunted,  stopped  an 
artillery-piece,  and,  pointing  it  against 
the  pursuers,  stood  by  it  until  the  Brit 
ish  bayonets  were  almost  at  his  breast. 
Pomeroy,  too,  another  veteran,  planting 
himself  with  his  broken  musket  in  his 
hand  at  the  side  of  the  resolute  Putnam, 
endeavored  by  his  words  and  example  to 
rally  his  retreating  comrades.  The  tor 
rent,  however,  could  not  be  stayed :  the 
patriots  continued  their  flight  over  the 
top  and  down  the  side  of  Bunker's  hill, 
across  Charlestown  neck  (terribly  galled 
as  they  fled  by  a  fire  from  the  English 
men-of-war  and  batteries),  and  into  the 
country,  until  they  reached  Cambridge. 


178 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


The  British  did  not  continue  the  pur 
suit,  although  General  Clinton  earnestly 
begged  Howe  to  follow  up  his  success  by 
pushing  on  his  troops  to  Cambridge.  He 
seemed,  however,  satisfied  at  present  with 
his  hardly-earned  victory.  His  men  were 
exhausted  by  the  day's  work,  and  discour 
aged  by  the  loss  of  their  comrades,  among 
whom  the  carnage  had  been  so  terrible. 
It  was  getting  late,  moreover,  it  being 
past  five  o'clock  when  the  British  in  pur 
suit  reached  Bunker's  hill.  Here  they 
paused,  and,  receiving  additional  forces 
from  Boston,  spent  the  night  in  raising 
a»breastwork  to  protect  the  position. 

When  Colonel  Prescott  reached  Ward's 
headquarters  at  Cambridge,  he  found  the 
general  in  great  alarm,  lest  the  enemy 
should  advance  upon  him  and  catch  him 
when  so  ill  prepared  for  resistance.  Pres 
cott,  however,  set  his  mind  somewhat  at 
ease,  telling  him  he  did  not  think  that 
the  British  would  be  in  a  very  exulting 
mood  after  that  day's  success.  The  colo 
nel,  after  receiving  Ward's  thanks  for  his 
gallant  conduct,  declared  that  it  was  true 
lie  had  been  vanquished,  but  that  the  en 
emy  had  no  reason  to  triumph ;  for,  if 
the  handful  of  men  under  his  command, 
though  exhausted  by  fatigue  and  hunger, 
had  been  supplied  with  sufficient  ammu 
nition  and  with  bayonets,  he  could  have 
held  his  position.  He  offered,  moreover, 
to  retake  the  hill  that  very  night,  if  fif 
teen  hundred  men,  properly  equipped 
and  supplied,  should  be  given  him.  But 
the  more  cautious  Ward  was  not  disposed 
to  accede  to  this  daring  proposition. 

The  loss  of  the  British  in  killed  and 
wounded,  in  this  momentous  conflict,  wras 


at  least  one  thousand  and  fifty-four,  while 
that  of  the  Americans  was  no  more  than 
four  hundred  and  fifty. 

Though  forced  to  retreat,  the  Ameri 
cans  gained  a  great  moral  victory,  while 
the  British  sustained  equally  a  defeat. 
The  raw  militia  had  proved  that  they 
could  not  only  stand  the  fire  of  regular 
troops,  but  that  they  could  resist  them 
effectually,  with  a  fair  hope  of  victorious 
success.  Critical  judgments  severely  con 
demned  the  conception  of  the  enterprise 
as  rash,  but  all  united  in  praising  the 
courage  and  steadiness  with  which  it  was 
executed.  An  orator  in  the  British  house 
of  commons  could  not  withhold  his  admi 
ration  of  the  American  gallantry  on  the 
occasion :  "  To  a  mind,"  he  said,  "  which 
loves  to  contemplate  the  glorious  spirit 
of  freedom,  no  spectacle  can  be  more  af 
fecting  than  the  action  at  Bunker's  hill. 
To  see  an  irregular  peasantry,  command 
ed  by  a  physician,  inferior  in  number, 
opposed  by  every  circumstance  of  can 
non  and  bombs  that  could  terrify  timid 
minds,  calmly  wait  the  attack  of  the  gal 
lant  Howe,  leading  on  the  best  troops  in 
the  world,  with  an  excellent  train  of  ar 
tillery,  and  twice  repulsing  those  very 
troops,  who  had  often  chased  the  chosen 
battalions  of  France,  and  at  last  retiring 
for  want  of  ammunition,  but  in  so  re 
spectable  a  manner  that  they  were  not 
even  pursued — who  can  reflect  on  such 
scenes,  and  not  adore  the  constitution 
of  government  which  could  breed  such 
men  ?'* 

The  struggle  on  Bunker's  hill  might 

*  Governor  Jolinstonc,  in  a  speech  in  the  house  of  com 
mons,  October  30,  1775. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


JOSEPH  WARREN. 


179 


well  be  condemned  on  stragetic  princi 
ples,  for  nothing  was  gained  in  a  purely 
military  point  of  view.  It  had,  however, 
a  great  influence  in  promoting  the  patri 
otic  cause ;  it  gave  increased  hope  to  the 
defenders  of  that  cause,  and  lessened  the 
confidence  of  its  opponents.  The  most  in 
veterate  tories  in  Great  Britain  acknowl 
edged,  when  they  heard  of  this  dearly- 
bought  victory,  that  "  affairs  wore  a  seri 
ous  aspect  in  America ;"  and  none  now 
pretended  that  "  with  a  couple  of  regi 
ments"  the  whole  of  the  colonies  could 
be  subjected.  The  friends  of  America 
were  no  less  elated  than  its  enemies  were 
depressed.  When  Washington  heard  of 
the  struggle  at  Bunker's  hill,  his  first 
question  was,  whether  the  militia  had 
stood  the  fire  of  the  British  regulars.  On 

o 

being  told  that  they  had,  he  answered, 
"  The  liberties  of  the  country  are  safe." 
Though  joy  was  the  more  common 
feeling  throughout  the  country  at  the  re 
sult  of  the  contest,  there  was  a  universal 
grief  at  the  loss  sustained  in  the  death 
of  Warren.  Howe  passed  the  highest  eu- 
logium  on  him  when  he  said,  as  he  saw 
the  body  of  the  illustrious  patriot  lying 
upon  the  battle-field,  that  "  his  death  was 
worth  to  the  British  five  hundred  of  the 
provincials."  WARREN  was  still  a  young 
man  when  he  gave  up  his  life  to  the  cause 
of  his  country.  He  was  born  in  1740,  at 
the  farmhouse  of  his  father  in  Roxbury. 
Though  of  comparatively  humble  origin, 
lie  enjoyed  the  best  opportunities  of  cul 
ture  that  his  country  afforded.  He  grad 
uated  at  Harvard  college,  and  studied 
medicine  under  the  most  eminent  physi 
cian  at  Boston,  where  he  himself  prac 


tised  his  profession,  and  rapidly  reached 
its  highest  rank.  Though  devoted  to  his 
art,  his  impulsive  nature  soon  exhibited 
a  warm  sympathy  with  the  patriot  cause 
and  he  took  an  active  part  in  the  liberal 
colonial  politics  of  his  day.  He  boldly 
joined  the  bands  of  the  "  Sons  of  Liber 
ty,"  and  became  conspicuous  as  a  leader 
among  this  brotherhood  pledged  to  the 
cause  of  freedom.  He  was  a  man  cool 
and  judicious  in  counsel,  and  yet  fervid 
and  even  eloquent  in  utterance.  He  had 
so  much  the  reputation  of  an  orator,  that 
he  was  chosen  to  deliver,  in  1771,  the  ora 
tion  commemorative  of  the  Boston  mas 
sacre.  In  1775,  he  volunteered  to  per 
form  the  same  duty,  for  no  other  reason 
than  because  the  British  officers  had 
threatened  to  take  the  life  of  any  man 
who  should  venture  upon  its  perform 
ance.  Warren's  offer  was  accepted,  and 
the  day  arrived.  The  meetinghouse  was 
the  place  appointed,  and  the  British  offi 
cers  seemed  determined  upon  executing 
their  threat,  for  they  filled  the  pews,  the 
aisles,  and  even  the  pulpit,  with  armed 
soldiers.  The  young  orator  was  obliged 
to  make  his  way,  by  means  of  a  ladder, 
through  a  window,  to  a  back  part  of  the 
pulpit.  The  audience,  though  threaten 
ing  in  look,  kept  a  profound  silence,  while 
Warren  began  his  oration.  Such  was  the 
power  of  his  earnest  eloquence,  that  even 
his  military  auditors,  wTho  had  come  steel 
ed  to  vengeance,  were  softened  to  tears 
of  sympathy  and  compassion  for  those 
martyrs  of  freedom  whose  sacrifice  the 
youthful  orator  so  feelingly  described. 

Warren  was  so  highly  esteemed  in  New 
England,  that  he  was  chosen  to  succeed 


180 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u 


John  Hancock  as  president  of  the  provin 
cial  Congress ;  and  when  hostilities  with 
Great  Britain  were  imminent,  he  received 
the  commission  of  major-general.  A  con 
temporary  of  Warren  has  said :  "  He  was 
valued  in  private  life  for  his  engaging 
manners,  and  as  a  physician  for  his  pro 
fessional  abilities.  The  death  of  an  ami 
able  consort  had  made  his  life  of  the 
greatest  importance  to  his  children;  he 
was  willing,  however,  to  risk  it  in  the  ser 
vice  of  the  public.  His  intrepidity  and 
zeal  for  the  cause  he  had  espoused,  to 
gether  with  the  electing  voice  of  the  pro 
vincial  Congress,  induced  him  to  enter 
upon  the  military  line.  Within  four  days 
after  his  appointment  to  a  major-general 
ship,  he  fell  a  noble  sacrifice  to  the  natu 
ral  rights  of  mankind.  He  was  of  a  mid 
dling  size,  and  of  a  lowish  stature.  The 
ladies  pronounced  him  handsome." 

There  were  memorable  officers,  too, 
who  fell  on  the  British  side.  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Abercrombie  was  killed  while 


leading  on  his  grenadiers  up  the  hill.  As 
his  soldiers  were  bearing  him  from  the 
field,  he  begged  them  to  spare  his  old 
friend  Putnam.  "If  you  take  General 
Putnam  alive,  don't  hang  him,  for  he's  a 
brave  man,"  were  among  his  dying  words, 
which  showed  how  his  brave  heart  was 
beating  true  to  a  noble  gallantry  in  its 
latest  pulsations.  Major  Pitcairn  was  also 
greatly  beloved,  and  his  death  sincerely 
mourned.  "  I  have  lost  my  father !"  cried 
his  son,  who  was  of  the  same  regiment. 
"  We  all  have  lost  a  father !"  was  the  ui> 
terance  of  each  soldier  in  it.  Spendlove 
and  Addison,  too,  were  gallant  men;  the 
former  a  veteran  of  forty  years'  service, 
and  the  latter  a  worthy .  collateral  de 
scendant  of  the  gentle  author  of  "  The 
Spectator."  Only  a  single  aid-de-camp  of 
Howe,  so  fatal  to  the  British  officers  had 
been  the  struggle,  lived  to  reach  England 
— Lieutenant  Page — whose  escape  from 
the  bloody  conflict  on  Bunker's  hill  made 
him  memorable.* 


CHAPTER   V. 

A  Sad  New-England  Sabbath. — The  Anxieties  of  the  British  at  Boston. — The  Stir  in  the  American  Camp.— Arrival  of 
Washington.— His  Life.— Personal  Appearance.— The  Effect  of  his  Presence  in  the  Camp.— A  Council  of  War.— Or 
ganization  of  the  Army. — Reform  and  Discipline.— Wants.—  Want  of  Government.— Want  of  Respect.— Want  of 
Uniformity. — Want  of  Clothing. — Want  of  Powder. — Want  of  Money. — No  Lack  of  Spirit. 


1775, 


IT  was  an  unusual  Sunday  for  New 
England,  the  day  after  the  bloody 
struggle  on  Breed  s  hill.  The  British 
cannonade  disturbed  the  peace  of  the 
sabbath  with  its  threatening  roar.  "It 
has  not  ceased  yet,  and  it  is  now  three 


June  18, 


o'clock,  sabbath  afternoon,"  writes  Mrs. 
Adams.  "It  is  expected  they 
will  come  out  over  the  Neck  to 
night,  and  a  dreadful  battle  must  ensue. 
Almighty  God !  cover  the  heads  of  our 

*  Frothin<rham. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


A  SAD  SABBATH. 


181 


countrymen,  and  be  a  shield  to  our  dear 
friends."  A  rumor  was  abroad  that  the 
British  were  about  to  march  to  Cam 
bridge,  and  take  dreadful  revenge  for  the 
slaughter  they  had  suffered  on  the  previ 
ous  day.  From  the  whole  country  round 
crowds  wTere  hurrying  to  the  American 
camp.  Some  were  volunteers,  coming 
with  their  muskets  on  their  shoulders,  to 
proffer  their  aid  in  the  approaching  dan 
ger  ;  and  many  were  fathers,  too  old  to 
bear  arms,  mothers,  wives,  and  daugh 
ters,  who,  with  hearts  stifled  with  com 
pressed  doubts  and  fears,  anxiously  sped 
on  their  way,  and  breathlessly  caught 
the  joyful  word  of  hope  or  the  agonizing 
sentence  of  despair.  They  came  to  hear 
of  the  life  or  the  death  of  those  they 
loved.  It  was  a  day  of  mourning  to  ma 
ny,  and  not  a  joyful  sabbath  to  a  single 
soul.  The  country  was  in  the  agony  of 
its  trial,  and  the  throes  of  its  suffering 
sorely  wrung  the  hearts  of  the  bravest. 

The  British,  however,  were  in  no  hu 
mor  or  condition  to  execute  the  ven 
geance  which  was  feared.  Their  victory, 
with  its  terrific  slaughter,  had  staggered 
them  more  than  an  ordinary  defeat.  As 
the  dead,  during  that  whole  day,  were 
borne  through  the  streets  of  Boston,  offi 
cers  and  soldiers  looked  upon  the  remains 
of  their  comrades  with  gloomy  thoughts, 
to  which  they  gave  utterance  in  murmurs 
against  their  leaders,  on  account  of  the 
sacrifice  they  had  wrought. 

Those  inhabitants  still  left  in  the  city 
whose  sympathy  was  with  the  patriotic 
cause,  could  not  conceal  their  indigna 
tion  at  an  army  which  seemed  deter 
mined,  at  any  cost  of  blood,  to  crush  out 


American  liberty.  It  was  feared  by  the 
British  generals  that  the  "  rebels"  of  Bos 
ton  would  arise  in  their  rage,  attack  and 
burn  the  town.  All  "unsuspected"  citi 
zens  were  called  upon  to  relieve  the  mili 
tary  guards  by  establishing  night-patrols. 
Governor  Gage  issued  a  proclamation,  re 
quiring  the  inhabitants  to  surrender  up 
their  firearms,  and  declaring  that  "  all 
persons  in  whose  possession  any  firearms 
may  hereafter  be  found  shall  be  deemed 
enemies  to  his  majesty's  government." 
Gage  was  alarmed,  and  only  thought  now 
of  defence,  and  not  of  active  hostilities. 
He  had  good  occasion  for  anxiety,  when 
he  saw  from  day  to  day  the  increased  ani 
mation  of  the  patriotic  spirit,  and  the  ac 
tivity  with  which  the  Americans  prepared 
to  sustain  the  cause  of  their  country. 

The  American  camp  was  soon  astir  with 
the  daily  arrivals  of  fresh  troops  from  all 
parts  of  New  England.  The  patriots,  al 
though  anxiously  expectant  of  an  attack 
from  the  British,  were  now  in  high  spir 
its,  and  they  even  longed  to  "  speak  with 
them  again."  The  militia  had  learned  a 
great  deal  at  Bunker's  hill,  and  they  be 
came  not  only  more  cautious  and  vigi- 
lant,but  tolerably  skilful  in  availing  them 
selves  of  the  means  and  appliances  of 
military  art.  They  at  once  set  about 
throwing  up  various  kinds  of  defence, 
and  busied  themselves  in  intrenching  the 
heights  which  they  commanded  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Boston.  General  Put 
nam,  as  usual,  was  indefatigable.  After 
the  retreat  from  Bunker's  hill,  he  had 
posted  his  Connecticut  men  on  Prospect 
hill,  and  at  once  began  throwing  up  for 
tifications.  Such  was  the  untiring  ener- 


182 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


H-AKT  n. 


June  19. 


gy  of  this  aged  veteran,  that  here  he  was 
found,  as  described  by  his  son,  two  days 
after  the  battle,  hard  at  work 
with  his  own  hands,  without  hav 
ing  "  put  off  his  clothes  or  washed  him 
self"  since.  At  Roxbury,  Winter  hill  was 
newly  fortified,  and  Cambridge  strength 
ened  by  additional  works. 

Little  was  done,  by  either  the  Ameri 
cans  or  British,  for  a  fortnight,  in  the  way 
of  hostility.  There  was  an  occasional 
skirmish.  At  one  time,  a  couple  of  In 
dians,  belonging  to  a  Massachusetts  tribe 
which  had  joined  the  Americans,  had  sur 
prised,  in  ambush,  an  outpost  of  British 
soldiers,  and  shot  down  with  their  arrows 
four  of  them.  This  brought  in  revenge 
a  cannonade  from  Boston.  Bombs  were 
frequently  thrown  by  the  enemy,  which, 
however,  beyond  setting  a  house  or  a 
barn  on  fire,  did  little  damage.  The  pa 
triot  army  was  now  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  their  new  general,  GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 
whose  reputation,  as  a  gallant  officer  in 
the  colonial  battles,  gave  great  hopes  to 
every  man  in  the  American  ranks. 

Most  biographers  have  fondly  traced 
back  the  origin  of  Washington  to  a  Wil 
liam  de  Hertburn,  who  lived  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  thirteenth  century.  This  gen 
tleman  came  into  the  possession  of  a  man 
orial  estate,  in  the  county  of  Durham,  in 
England,  called  Washington,  which  name 
he  thence  assumed,  and  his  descendants 
after  him.  A  long  line  of  reputable  doc 
tors,  divines,  lawyers,  and  squires,  fol 
lowed.  Among  them  there  was  even  a 
knight,  a  gallant  Sir  Henry  Washington, 
who  fought  loyally  for  King  Charles  I., 
bravely  sustained  the  siege  of  Worcester 


against  the  parliamentary  forces,  and  dis 
tinguished  himself  at  the  taking  of  Bris 
tol.  Diligent  investigators  have  discov 
ered  that,  in  1538,  there  was  a  Lawrence 
Washington,  wTho  had  been  a  lawyer  of 
Gray's  Inn,  and  mayor  of  Northampton, 
to  whom  the  manor  of  Sulgrave,in  North 
amptonshire,  was  granted.  Two  great 
grandchildren  of  this  gentleman  went  as 
settlers  to  the  colony  of  Virginia,  about 
the  year  1657.  Their  eldest  brother  re 
mained  at  home ;  and  proof  is  given  of 
his  importance,  by  the  statement  of  the 
fact  that  he  married  a  half-sister  of  the 
duke  of  Buckingham.  John  and  Law 
rence  were  the  names  of  the  two  emi 
grants  to  Virginia,  who,  being  younger 
brothers,  were  forced  to  shift  for  them 
selves. 

The  American  hero  was  immediately 
descended  from  Augustine  Washington, 
the  second  son  of  Lawrence,  the  elder  of 
the  first  two  settlers  in  the  colony.  Au 
gustine  was  married  twice.  By  his  first 
wife,  Jane  Butler,  he  had  four  children : 
Butler,  who  died  in  infancy;  Lawrence; 
Augustine ;  and  Jane,  wrho  did  not  sur 
vive  her  childhood.  By  his  second  wife, 
Mary  Ball,  whom  he  married  on  the  6th 
of  March,  1730,  he  had  six  children 
George,  Betty,  Samuel,  John  Augustine, 
Charles,  and  Mildred. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON  was  born  on  the 
22d  of  February,  1732,  on  an  estate  which 
his  father  held  and  cultivated  as  a  plant 
er,  on  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  in  Wesi> 
moreland  county.  The  father  died  at  the 
age  of  forty-nine,  leaving  landed  property 
of  sufficient  extent  to  bequeath  to  each 
of  his  sons  a  plantation,  and  to  make  suit- 


REVOLUTIONARY."] 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 


183 


cable  provision  for  his  widow  and  daugh 
ter.  Mrs.  Washington,  upon  whom  the 
care  of  five  children  devolved,  the  eldest 
of  whom  at  the  time  of  the  death  of  her 
husband  was  only  eleven  years,  showed 
herself  equal  to  her  charge,  and  was  re 
warded  for  her  tender  and  wise  manage 
ment  by  a  long  life,  which  was  graced  by 
the  virtues  of  all  her  offspring,  and  ren 
dered  triumphant  by  the  glory  of  her 
eldest  son. 

The  young  George  was  sent  to  one  of 
the  best  schools  in  Virginia,  where,  how 
ever,  there  was  little  in  those  days  to  be 
acquired  beyond  the  elementary  reading, 
writing,  and  arithmetic.  He  was  a  docile 
child,  and  soon  learned  all  that  the  hum 
ble  learning  of  his  teacher  could  impart. 
He  was  of  a  kindly,  affectionate  disposi 
tion,  and,  though  somewhat  hotrtempered, 
was  a  great  favorite  with  his  schoolfel 
lows.  Strong  in  constitution,  and  active 
and  supple  in  movement,  he  took  the 
lead  in  the  playground,  and  few  could 
equal  him  in  wrestling,  running,  and  jump 
ing.  He  is  said  even  in  his  boyhood  to 
have  shown  a  martial  taste,  and  to  have 
frequently  got  up  mimic  battles,  in  which 
he  always  bore  a  prominent  part,  as  the 
leader  of  one  of  the  fighting-parties. 

He  was  remarkable,  at  a  very  early 
age,  for  his  love  of  system  and  order. 
His  copy-books  were  always  written  and 
kept  with  great  neatness ;  and  he  seems 
to  have  shown,  while  yet  a  child,  a  taste 
for  business.  A  manuscript  book  exists, 
written  when  he  was  but  thirteen  years 
of  age,  in  which  page  after  page  contains 
copies  of  bills  of  exchange,  leases,  receipts, 
and  land-warrants,  all  penned  with  the 


greatest  care,  and  with  hardly  a  scratch 
or  a  blot.  He  was  no  less  systematic,  it 
would  appear,  in  his  study  of  the  propri 
eties  of  conduct ;  for  in  the  same  manu 
script  book  there  is  a  part  devoted  to 
"  Rules  of  Behavior  in  Company  and  Con 
versation."  This  consists  of  written  max 
ims  of  manners  and  morals. 

Arithmetic  was  his  favorite  study,  and 
as  he  advanced  in  age  he  pursued  dili 
gently  the  elements  of  the  higher  math 
ematics,  and  became  proficient  in  geome 
try,  trigonometry,  and  surveying.  These 
latter  studies  were  his  chief  occupation 
during  his  last  two  years  at  school,  which 
he  quitted  just  before  he  reached  his  six 
teenth  birthday. 

His  brother  Lawrence,  who  had  served 
with  credit  as  a  British  officer  in  the  West 
Indies,  and  had  won  the  respect  and  friend 
ship  of  General  Wentworth  and  Admiral 
Vernon  (from  whom  he  called  his  plan 
tation  "Mount  Vernon"),  was  enabled, 
through  the  influence  of  these  distin 
guished  friends,  to  obtain  for  George  a 
midshipman's  warrant.  The  lad  was  all 
eagerness  at  this  prospect  of  being  a 
young  officer ;  but  his  mother  would  not 
consent,  and  Washington  was  reserved 
for  another  and  more  glorious  destiny. 

The  boy,  disappointed  of  his  naval  but 
tons,  went  to  live  with  his  brother  Law 
rence  at  Mount  Vernon,,  and  there  passed 
the  winter  in  the  study  of  mathematics, 
with  the  purpose  of  preparing  himself 
for  the  profession  of  a  surveyor.  Law 
rence  had  married  the  daughter  of  Wil 
liam  Fairfax,  of  a  noble  English  family, 
and  high  colonial  distinction.  Fairfax  re 
sided  at  Belvoir,  near  Mount  Vernon.  and 


184 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_IJART 


at  this  period  he  had  as  a  guest  at  his 
house  no  less  a  personage  than  Lord 
Fairfax.  His  lordship,  an  accomplished 
Oxford  man,  and  a  writer  for  "  The  Spec 
tator,"  was  fond  of  study,  and,  becoming 
naturally  a  recluse  in  his  habits,  had  late 
ly  arrived  with  the  intention  of  living 
upon  one  of  his  Virginian  estates.  Law 
rence  Washington  presented  his  brother 
to  the  Fairfaxes,  and  an  intimacy  at  once 
ensued,  which  in  the  course  of  a  few 
months  was  turned  to  the  profit  of  the 
young  surveyor. 

Lord  Fairfax  held  a  large  tract  of  ter 
ritory  lying  among  the  valleys  of  the  Al- 
leghany  mountains.  As  the  land  was 
wild  and  not  surveyed,  settlers  were  con 
stantly  encroaching  upon  it.  His  lord 
ship  was  therefore  desirous  of  having  his 
property  accurately  measured  and  bound 
ed.  He  accordingly  chose  Washington 
for  the  purpose,  who  readily  undertook 
the  enterprise,  as  it  suited  both  his  busi 
ness  and  his  tastes.  The  journey  through 
the  wilderness  was  rough  and  dangerous, 
but  was  accomplished  spiritedly,  and  its 
object  satisfactorily  gained.  Other  en 
gagements  ensued,  and  the  youthful  sur 
veyor  passed  three  years  busily  and  prof 
itably  in  his  profession. 

The  threatening  troubles  with  the 
French  and  Indians  on  the  frontiers, 
called  out  the  militia  of  the  province ; 
and  Washington,  at  the  age  of  nineteen, 
received  his  first  military  appointment. 
He  was  made  adjutant-general,  with  the 
rank  of  major,  and  the  pay  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  a  year.  His  duty  was 
to  discipline  the  militia  of  one  of  the  dis 
tricts  into  which  the  province  was  divided. 


This  appointment  revived  his  military 
tastes,  and  he  devoted  himself  with  great 
eagerness  to  his  new  pursuit.  His  broth 
er  Lawrence's  experience  was  now  of 
good  service,  as  it  enabled  him  to  tutor 
the  young  officer  in  the  military  art ;  and 
he  accordingly  gave  him  daily  lessons  in 
the  use  of  the  sword,  the  manual  exer 
cise,  and  tactics.  George  at  the  same 
time  read  industriously  all  the  books  he 
could  obtain,  and  mastered  pretty  thor 
oughly  the  theory  of  war. 

These  martial  pursuits  were  now  inter 
rupted  by  the  illness  of  Lawrence,  who 
was  in  consequence  advised  to  take  a 
voyage  to  the  West  Indies.  George  ac 
companied  him,  and  they  sailed  for  Bar- 
badoes  in  September,  1751.  They  had 
hardly  arrived  there,  when  the  younger 
brother  was  taken  sick  with  the  small 
pox;  but,  although  the  disease  was  se 
vere,  he  so  soon  recovered  in  that  tropi 
cal  climate,  that  he  was  able  to  be  out 
again  i-n  less  than  three  weeks.  Law 
rence  appeared  in  the  meantime  so  great 
ly  to  have  improved,  that  it  was  agreed 
that  George,  now  entirely  well,  should 
return  to  Virginia  and  bring  his  brother's 
wife  to  Bermuda,  where  Lawrence  pro 
posed  to  proceed.  Lawrence,  however, 
on  reaching  this  island,  and  finding  that 
he  grew  weaker,  hastened  back  to  Mount 
Vernon,  where  he  died  soon  after  his 
arrival. 

Of  Washington's  subsequent  military 
campaigns  against  the  Indians  and  the 
French  we  have  already  given  a  record, 
and  the  rest  of  his  military  history  will 
be  developed  in  the  course  of  this  nar 
rative. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARRIVAL  OF  WASHINGTON. 


185 


Mount  Vernon  fell  to  the  possession  of 
Washington,  by  the  death  of  his  brother's 
daughter ;  and  there,  in  the  intervals  of 
his  military  career,  he  lived  the  life  of  a 
southern  planter.  On  the  6th  of  Janua 
ry,  1759,  he  married  Mrs.  Martha  Custis, 
a  widow  three  months  younger  than  him 
self,  and  the  mother  of  a  son  and  daugh 
ter  by  her  former  husband,  John  Parke 
Custis.  She  received  one  third  of  this 
gentleman's  property,  which  consisted  of 
several  large  estates  and  forty-five  thou 
sand  pounds  sterling  in  money.  Wash 
ington  thus  became  greatly  enriched,  for 
those  early  times,  by  his  marriage.  Al 
though  he  had  won  fame  in  the  wars  of 
the  province,  and  still  continued,  as  a 
member  of  the  house  of  burgesses  in  Vir 
ginia,  to  bear  somewhat  the  character  of 
a  public  man,  Washington  retired,  soon 
after  his  marriage.,  to  his  estate  on  the 
banks  of  the  Potomac,  with  the  view  of 
passing  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  the 
privacy  and  simplicity  of  a  country  gen 
tleman. 

His  country  now  had  called  him  ;  and 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  give  up  the  ease 
and  happiness  of  his  home  for  the  lead 
ership  of  a  cause  whose  trials  and  dangers 
were  immediate,  while  its  triumphs,  how 
ever  certain  in  the  future,  were  yet  too 
indefinite  greatly  to  tempt  the  desires  of 
the  most  ambitious. 

Washington  set  out  from  Phila 
delphia,  on  the  21st  of  June,  to 
take  command  of  the  troops  at  Cam 
bridge,  now  adopted  as  the  army  of  the 
twelve  confederated  colonies.  He  was 
accompanied  by  Generals  Lee  and  Schuy- 
ler,  and  all  three  started  on  horseback, 
24 


1775, 


escorted  by  a  troop  of  gentlemen  of  Phil 
adelphia.  The  newly-appointed  general 
was  received  everywhere  on  the  journey 
with  great  distinction.  Each  town  an 
village  was  on  the  alert,  and  welcomed 
Washington  and  his  cavalcade  with  ev 
ery  possible  exhibition  of  respect.  Dep 
utations  of  the  principal  gentlemen  rode 
out  to  meet  him,  and,  escorting  him  to 
the  places  whence  they  came,  addressed 
him  in  highly-eulogistic  terms,  expressive 
of  their  joy  at  his  appointment. 

Washington,  even  at  this  late  moment, 
still  hopeful  of  a  reconciliation  with  the 
mother-country  which  he  so  warmly  loved, 
declared  to  the  committee  of  the  provin 
cial  Congress  of  New  York,  who  had  ad 
dressed  him,  that  "  every  exertion  of  my 
worthy  colleagues  and  myself  will  be  ex 
tended  to  the  re-establishment  of  peace 
and  harmony  between  the  mother-coun 
try  and  these  colonies." 

It  was  at  New  York  that  the  news  of 
the  battle  of  Bunker's  hill  was  first  an 
nounced  to  Washington,  when  he  anx 
iously  inquired  whether  the  militia  had 
stood  their  ground  against  the  British 
regulars.  Upon  being*  told  that  they  had, 
he  answered  in  these  memorable  words : 
"  The  liberties  of  the  country  are  safe." 
He  was  now  more  anxious  than  ever  to 
reach  the  camp  at  Cambridge,  and  sped 
on  with  unusual  haste.  As  he  entered 
Massachusetts,  he  was  met  by  a  cavalcade 
of  New-England  gentlemen  and  a  com 
mittee  of  the  provincial  Congress,  who 
addressed  him  in  the  usual  congratulato 
ry  terms,  to  which  the  general  suitably 
responded. 

Washington's  personal  appearance  pro- 


186 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    11 


ducecl  an  impression,,  upon  all  who  now 
beheld  him  for  the  first  time,  in  every 
respect  corresponding  to  the  reputation 
which  preceded  him.  His  figure  was  tall 
and  commanding,  and  the  sedate  dignity 
of  his  demeanor  secured  respect,  while 
his  refined  courtesy  of  manners  invited 
approach.  His  excellent  horsemanship, 
perfected  in  the  chase,  of  which  he  was 
so  fond,  added  much  to  the  popular  effect 
of  his  manly  appearance.  He  had,  more 
over,  the  true  martial  bearing :  his  ser 
vice  in  the  provincial  campaigns,  and  as 
an  aid-de-camp  under  that  military  mar 
tinet  Braddock,  had  given  him  the  air  of 
a  veteran ;  for,  young  as  he  was,  being 
little  over  forty,  he  always  appeared  old 
er  than  his  years.  The  nice  fastidious 
ness  he  exhibited  in  his  dress,  which  was 
in  character  with  the  systematic  regulari 
ty  of  all  his  personal  habits,  served  still 
more  to  distinguish  him  in  the  public 
eye.  All  the  particularities  of  military 
costume  were  seen  to  be  rigidly  observed 
in  his  personal  adornment,  and  thus  a  con 
temporary  describes  "  his  blue  coat  with 
buff-colored  facings,  a  rich  epaulette  on 
each  shoulder,  a  buff  under-dress,  an  ele 
gant  small-sword,  and  a  black  cockade  in 
his  hat,"  The  chastened  severity  of  his 
countenance,  and  his  formal  and  some 
what  paternal  manners,  did  not  even  pre 
vent  the  softer  sex  from  warming  in  ad 
miration  of  the  new  general.  "  I  was 
struck,"  writes  Mrs.  Adams  to  her  hus 
band,  "  with  General  Washington.  You 
had  prepared  me  to  entertain  a  favorable 
opinion  of  him,  but  I  thought  the  half 
was  not  told  me.  Dignity,  with  ease  and 
complacency,  the  gentleman  and  soldier, 


look  agreeably  blended  in  him.  Modes 
ty  marks  every  line  and  feature  of  his 
face. ..." 

Though  "much  too  old  a  young  man1' 
to  please  the  Mrs.  Mountains  of  the  cav 
alier  times  of  Virginia,  this  sedateness  of 
anticipated  age  was  but  an  additional 
claim  to  the  admiration  of  the  prim  and 
pious  New-England  ladies,  who,  in  the 
calm  sobriety  of  Washington's  manners, 
saw  with  no  disappointment  the  absence 
of  any  proof  of  "early  wild  oats,"  but 
looked  with  satisfaction  upon  the  signs 
of  a  well-ordered  youth,  and  anticipated 
with  confidence  the  hopes  they  gave  of 
a  manhood  endowed  with  a  strength  of 
virtue  equal  to  its  highest  and  gravest 
duties.  The  young  southern  aids-de-camp 
—  the  Mifflins  and  Randolphs  —  doubtless 
found  more  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  Mrs. 
Mountains  of  those  days,  than  the  rigidly- 
virtuous  Washington. 

On  reaching  Cambridge,  Washington 
was  received  by  the  whole  army, 
drawn  up  to  do  honor  to  the  oc 
casion.  The  firing  of  the  artillery,  and 
the  loud  shouts  of  the  patriots,  echoed 
the  welcome  with  which  his  presence  was 
hailed.  Washington  was  now  escorted 
to  the  handsome  quarters  provided  for 
him,  where  he  and  his  suite,  having  alight 
ed  and  tarried  awhile,  they  returned  on 
foot  to  the  Cambridge  common.  The 
general,  having  stepped  forward  out  of 
the  group  of  the  chief  officers  who  sur 
rounded  him,  spoke  a  few  words  to  the 
assembled  troops,  and  with  drawn  sword 
formally  assumed  command  of  the  conti 
nental  army.  General  Greene,  of  Rhode 
Island,  testified  for  himself  and  his  officers 


July  3, 


REVOLUTIONARY.J 


"JXEW  LORDS,  NEW  LAWS." 


187 


in  a  few  well-spoken  and  dignified  words, 
the  satisfaction  they  should  feel  in  serv 
ing  under  Washington  as  their  command 
er,  and  that  commander  had  never  a  more 
faithful  subordinate. 

Washington,  with  his  quick  sense  of 
duty,  lost  no  time,  but  at  once  set  about 
learning  what  he  had  to  do  and  how  it 
was  to  be  done,  and  doing  it.  His  pres 
ence  was  immediately  felt  everywhere  in 
the  camp  by  the  change  effected  by  his 
orders.  "  There  is  a  great  overturning 
in  the  camp  as  to  order  and  regularity," 
writes  a  contemporary.  " '  New  lords,  new 
laws.'  The  generals  Washington  and  Lee 
are  upon  the  lines  every  day.  New  or 
ders  from  his  excellency  are  read  to  the 
respective  regiments  every  morning  after 
prayers.  The  strictest  government  is  ta 
king  place,  and  great  distinction  is  made 
between  officers  and  soldiers.  Every  one 
is  made  to  know  his  place,  and  keep  in 
it,  or  be  tied  up  and  receive  thirty  or  for 
ty  lashes,  according  to  his  crime.  Thou 
sands  are  at  work  every  day  from  four 
till  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  It  is 
surprising  how  much  work  has  been  done. 
The  lines  are  extended  almost  from  Cam 
bridge  to  Mystic  river,  so  that  very  soon 
it  will  be  morally  impossible  for  the  ene 
my  to  get  between  the  works,  except  in 
one  place,  which  is  supposed  to  be  left 
purposely  unfortified,  to  entice  the  ene 
my  out  of  their  fortresses.  Who  would 
have  thought,  twelve  months  past,  that 
all  Cambridge  and  Chaiiestown  would  be 
covered  over  with  American  camps,  and 
cut  up  into  forts  and  intrenchments,  and 
all  the  lands,  fields,  orchards,  laid  com 
mon —  horses  and  cattle  feed  ins:  in  the 


choicest  mowing-land,  whole  fields  of  corn 
eaten  down  to  the  ground,  and  large  parks 
of  well-regulated  locusts  cut  down  for  fire 
wood  and  other  public  uses  ?  This,  I  must 
say,  looks  a  little  melancholy.  My  quar 
ters  are  at  the  foot  of  the  famous  Pros 
pect  hill,  where  such  great  preparations 
are  made  for  the  reception  of  the  ene 
my.  . . . 

"It  is  very  diverting  to  walk  among 
the  camps.  They  are  as  different  in  form 
as  the  owners  are  in  their  dress ;  and  ev 
ery  tent  is  a  portraiture  of  the  temper 
and  taste  of  the  persons  who  encamp  in 
it.  Some  are  made  of  boards,  and  some 
of  sail-cloth ;  some  partly  of  one  and  part 
ly  of  the  other.  Again,  others  are  made 
of  stone  and  turf,  brick  or  bush.  Some 
are  thrown  up  in  a  hurry;  others  curi 
ously  wrought  with  doors  and  windows, 
done  with  wreaths  and  withes,  in  the 
manner  of  a  basket.  Some  are  your 
proper  tents  and  marquees,  looking  like 
the  regular  camp  of  the  enemy.  In  these 
are  the  Rhode-Islanders,  who  are  fur 
nished  with  teni>equipages,  and  every 
thing  in  the  most  exact  English  style. 
However,  I  think  this  great  variety  is 
rather  a  beauty  than  a  blemish  in  the 
army."* 

Soon  after  his  arrival  at  Cambridge, 
Washington  summoned  the  major  and 
brigadier  generals  to  a  council  of  war. 
The  military  appointments  by  the  gen 
eral  Congress,  it  will  be  recollected,  were, 
in  addition  to  Washington  as  command  er- 
in-chief,  four  major-generals,  in  the  rank 
and  order  named,  viz. :  1.  Artemas  Ward. 

*  Letter  of  Reverend  William  Emerson,  quoted  by  Sparks 
in  his  Life  of  Washington. 


188 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


2.  Charles  Lee.  3.  Philip  Schuyler.  4.  Is 
rael  Putnam;  and  eight  brigadier-gener 
als,  viz. :  1.  Seth  Pomeroy.  2.  Richard 
Montgomery.  3.  David  Wooster.  4.  Wil 
liam  Heath.  5.  Joseph  Spencer.  6.  John 
Thomas.  7.  John  Sullivan.  8.  Nathan 
iel  Greene.  The  precedence  which  this 
established  was  not  altogether  satisfacto 
ry.  Spencer  grumbled  at  the  advance 
ment  of  General  Putnam  over  his  head ; 
and  Thomas  was  dissatisfied  with  the  su 
perior  rank  given  to  Pomeroy.  General 
Spencer,  in  fact,  took  what  he  considered 
his  relative  degradation  in  such  high  dud 
geon  as  to  leave  the  army,  without  hav 
ing  paid  his  respects  to  Washington ;  but 
he  was  induced  to  return,  on  being  pro 
moted  to  the  first  rank  after  Putnam. 
Pomeroy's  resignation  gave  Thomas  a 
chance  of  advancement,  and  the  urgent 
advice  of  his  friends  induced  him  to  re 
main  and  take  the  benefit  of  it.  These 
were  some  of  the  minor  difficulties  which 
thronged  in  upon  Washington,  and  em 
barrassed  his  action.  He  continued,  how 
ever,  in  the  calm  and  resolute  perform 
ance  of  his  duty,  and  went  systematically 
about  the  organization  into  an  army  of 
the  miscellaneous  crowd  of  patriots  un 
der  his  command. 

At  the  council  of  war,  an  inquiry  was 
instituted  in  regard  to  the  numbers  and 
condition  of  the  two  armies.  Eleven  thou 
sand  five  hundred  regulars  were  given  as 
the  estimate  of  the  British  force ;  while 
the  Americans  had  seventeen  thousand 
men  enrolled,of  whom  only  fourteen  thou 
sand  five  hundred  were  considered  capa 
ble  of  duty.  The  patriotforce  was  deemed 
inadequate,  and  it  was  resolved  to  make 


an  effort  to  increase  it  to  twenty-two 
thousand. 

The  position  of  the  two  opposing  camps 
at  this  time  is  best  described  in  a  letter 
written  by  Washington  himself:  "I  found 
the  British,"  he  says,  «  strongly  ^ 

intrenching  on  Bunker's  hill, 
about  a  mile  from  Charlestown,  and  ad 
vanced  about  half  a  mile  from  the  place 
of  the  late  action,  with  their  sentries  ex 
tended  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
on  this  side  of  the  narrowest  part  of  the 
Neck,  leading  from  this  place  [Cam 
bridge]  to  Charlestown.  Three  floating 
batteries  lie  in  Mystic  river,  near  their 
camp,  and  one  twenty-gun  ship  below  the 
ferry-place,  between  Boston  and  Charles- 
town.  They  have  also  a  battery  on  Copp's 
hill,  on  the  Boston  side,  which  much  an 
noyed  our  troops  in  the  late  attack.  Up 
on  Roxbury  neck  they  are  also  deeply 
intrenched  and  strongly  fortified.  Their 
advance-guards,  till  last  Saturday,  occu 
pied  Brown's  houses,  about  a  mile  from 
Roxbury  meetinghouse,  and  twenty  rods 
from  their  lines ;  but,  at  that  time,  a  par 
ty  from  General  Thomas's  camp  surprised 
the  guard,  drove  them  in,  and  burned  the 
houses.  The  bulk  of  their  army,  com 
manded  by  General  Howe,  lies  on  Bun 
ker's  hill,  and  the  remainder  on  Roxbury 
neck,  except  the  light-horse,  and  a  few 
men  in  the  town  of  Boston. 

"  On  our  side  we  have  thrown  up  in- 
trenchments  on  Winter  and  Prospect  hills 
—  the  enemy's  camp  in  full  view,  at  the 
distance  of  little  more  than  a  mile.  Such 
intermediate  points  as  would  admit  a 
landing,  I  have,  since  my  arrival,  taken 
care  to  strengthen,  down  to  Sewall's  farm, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WANTS  OF  THE  PATRIOTS. 


189 


where  a  strong  intrenchment  has  been 
thrown  up.  At  Roxbury,  Thomas  has 
thrown  up  a  strong  work  on  the  hill,  about 
two  hundred  yards  above  the  meeting 
house  ;  which,  with  the  brokenness  of  the 
ground,  and  a  great  number  of  rocks,  has 
made  that  pass  very  secure.  The  troops 
raised  in  New  Hampshire,  with  a  regiment 
from  Rhode  Island,  occupy  Winter  hill ; 
a  part  of  those  of  Connecticut,  under  Gen 
eral  Putnam,  are  on  Prospect  hill.  The 
troops  in  this  town  (Cambridge)  are  en 
tirely  of  the  Massachusetts  ;  the  remain 
der  of  the  Rhode-Island  men  are  at  Sew- 
all's  farm.  Two  regiments  of  Connecti 
cut,  and  nine  of  the  Massachusetts,  are 
at  Roxbury.  The  residue  of  the  army, 
to  the  number  of  about  seven  hundred, 
are  posted  in  several  small  towns  along 
the  coast,  to  prevent  the  depredations  of 
the  enemy." 

Washington  arranged  the  army  in 
three  great  divisions.  The  centre,  at 
Cambridge,  was  under  the  command  of 
Major-General  Putnam;  the  right, at  Rox 
bury,  under  Major-General  Ward ;  and 
the  left  under  Major-General  Lee,  part 
of  which  was  at  Prospect  hill,  and  the 
rest  at  Winter  hill.  The  country,  once 
so  beautiful  at  this  season  (July),  was  now 
sadly  changed.  The  landscape  described 
as  so  charming  with  its  hills  and  valleys, 
rocks  and  woods,  interspersed  with  strag 
gling  villages,  with  here  and  there  a  spire 
peeping  over  the  trees,  and  with  every 
where  fields  of  the  most  charming  green 
that  delighted  eyes  ever  gazed  on,  pre 
sented  now  a  universal  scene  of  prepara 
tion  for  war.  The  wide-spread  camp  cov 
ered  a  surface  of  several  miles  in  extent ; 


farmhouses  were  turned  into  barracks, 
and  pastures  into  parade-grounds ;  and 
the  quiet  of  the  country  was  disturbed 
by  the  daily  beatings  to  arms  of  the  as 
sembled  troops. 

Washington  found  a  disorderly  crowd 
of  followers,  whom  it  required  all  his  gen 
eralship  to  drill  into  the  shape  of  soldiers ; 
"  a  mixed  multitude  of  people,"  he  said, 
"  who  are  under  very  little  discipline,  or 
der,  or  government."  Disrespect  to  offi 
cers  and  unsoldierlike  conduct  were  the 
chief  vices  of  his  irregular  forces ;  and 
Washington  did  his  best,  by  means  of 
fines,  the  pillory,  the  wooden  horse,  whip 
ping,  and  drumming  out  of  camp,  to  in 
culcate  among  his  independent  militia 
lessons  of  respect  and  subordination.  The 
chiefs  military  eye  was  greatly  offended 
at  the  ragged  and  miscellaneously-assort 
ed  dresses  of  his  men.  One  of  his  first 
efforts  was  to  get  a  supply  of  ten  thou 
sand  hunting-shirts,  to  clothe  the  naked 
ness  and  to  give  some  uniformity  of  ap 
pearance  to  the  troops. 

There  was  a  meagerness  of  supply,  in 
another  respect,  more  serious  than  any 
scantiness  of  clothing.  The  American 
army  was  short  of  powder.  Washington 
found  his  "  situation  in  the  article  of  pow 
der  much  more  alarming  than  he  had  the 
most  distant  idea  of." — "We  reckoned 
upon  three  hundred  quarter-casks,"  wrote 
his  secretary,  Reed, "  and  had  but  thirty- 
two  barrels."  The  scarcity,  in  fact,  had 
become  so  great,  that  an  order  was  issued, 
forbidding  any  one  to  waste  it  in  shoot 
ing  birds,  or  in  any  kind  of  sport.  This 
deficiency  became  very  alarming,  as  the 
enemy  seemed  to  threaten  an  attack,  and 


190 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11 


were  daily  keeping  up  a  brisk  cannonade 
at  the  American  lines,  though  fortunate 
ly  with  but  little  effect,  except  when  the 
imprudence  of  the  raw  militia  exposed 
them  to  danger.  "Two  were  killed," 
writes  Reed,  "  at  the  lines  last  week,  by 
running  after  cannon-shot.  We  scarcely 
lie  down  or  rise  up,  but  with  the  expec 
tation  that  the  night  or  the  day  must 
produce  some  important  event."  The 
want  of  ammunition  was  not  only  alarm- 
ing,but  exceedingly  vexatious,as  it  forced 
Washing-ton  to  "  bear  with  the  rascals  on 

o 

Bunker's  hill,  when  a  few  shot,  now  and 
then,  in  return,  would  keep  the  men  at 
tentive  to  their  business,  and  give  the 
enemy  alarms." 


Nor  were  these  the  only  wants  which 
Washington  required  to  be  supplied.  He 
was  in  need  of  money,  being  much  em 
barrassed,  as  he  wrote  to  the  president 
of  Congress,  for  want  of  a  military  chest. 
He  also  solicited  the  appointment  of  a 
commissary-general,a  quartermaster-gen 
eral,  a  commissary  of  musters,  and  a  com 
missary  of  artillery.  With  all  these  dis 
advantages  of  want  of  discipline,  want  of 
ammunition,  and  want  of  the  means  of 
organization,  the  American  troops  were 
not  distrustful  of  their  powers  to  cope 
with  the  enemy,  and,  in  frequent  skir 
mishes  with  the  British,  showed  no  lack 
of  spirit,  but  often  "  played  the  man  and 
beat  them." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Rumors  of  a  Sortie  of  the  British  from  Boston. — Gage  discouraged. — The  III  Condition  of  the  British  Force. — The  Suf 
ferings  of  the  Patriots  at  Boston. — Forced  Gaycty  of  the  Tories. — The  American  Prisoners. — 111  Treatment. — Sharp 
Correspondence  hetween  Washington  and  Gage. — Long  Inaction. — A  Bombardment. — Arrival  of  Ammunition. — Ex 
pedition  to  Canada  determined  upon. 


1775, 


RUMORS  now  began  to  circulate 


in  the  American  camp,  of  an  in 
tended  sally  of  the  British  from  Boston. 
Gage,  however,  was  not  much  in  the  hu 
mor  for  active  operations  against  the  be 
siegers.  Although  reinforced  by  some 
troops  originally  intended  for  New  York, 
he  began  to  think,  and  so  wrote  to 
the  government  at  home,  that  his 
position  was  the  most  disadvantageous 
possible  for  action.  He  now  felt  himself 
to  be  on  the  defensive,  and  talked  of  what 
he  would  do  in  case  "  the  rebels  presumed  \ 


July, 


to  make  an  attack."  The  troops  suffered 
severely  from  their  fatiguing  duties,  being 
kept  constantly  on  the  alert  by  the  "  au 
dacity"  of  the  provincials,  who  were  con 
tinually  advancing  near  to  the  British 
lines  ever  since  the  "  arrival  of  Generals 
Washington  and  Lee  to  command  them." 
The  men,  unaccustomed  to  an  American 
climate,  suffered  greatly  from  the  heat, 
to  which  they  were  much  exposed  in 
their  encampments.  Their  food,  too,  was 
so  scanty,  that  even  the  sick  and  wounded 
had  often  nothing  to  eat  but  "  salt  pork 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  ENEMY. 


191 


and  fish."  Strong  drink,  however,  they 
had  in  abundance,  from  which  it  was  im 
possible  to  keep  the  soldiers,  for  a  six 
pence  would  buy  a  quart  of  West-India 
and  fourpence  the  same  quantity  of  New- 
England  rum.  With  the  excessive  thirst 
engendered  by  the  heat  of  the  summer 
sun,  and  by  their  hard  work,  the  men 
freely  indulged  in  the  liquor  which  was 
so  cheaply  obtained,  and  destroyed  their 
vigor  and  health.  Fevers  and  dysentery 
prevailed  in  the  camp,  attributed  to  "  the 
fatigue  of  duty,  bad  accommodation,  and 
the  use  of  too  much  spirits."  An  occa 
sional  supply  of  fresh  provisions  would 
be  obtained  by  a  lucky  capture,  by  the 
British  men-of-war,  of  some  stray  coaster, 
when  the  bells  of  Boston  were  rung,  as 
if  in  honor  of  a  triumph,  so  greatly  over 
joyed  were  the  half-starved  soldiers  at 
the  prospect  of  a  mess  of  fresh  beef  or 
mutton  :  — 

"  Britons,  with  grief  your  bosoms  strike  ; 

Your  faded  laurels  loudly  weep  ; 
Behold  your  heroes,  Quixote-like, 
Driving  a  timid  flock  of — sheep  !" 

Thus,  with  less  heart  than  truth,  sneered 
a  whiff,  ffish  waff  of  London,  on  the  an- 

OO  O  ' 

nouncement  that  General  Gage  had  suc 
ceeded  in  capturing  "  eighteen  hundred 
sheep  and  above  some  one  hundred  head 
of  oxen,  which  will  be  some  relief  to  the 
troops  in  general,  and  of  great  benefit  to 
the  hospitals." 

The  few  patriots  left  in  Boston  were 
subjected  to  all  kinds  of  annoyances  and 
injury.  Now  one  was  clapped  into  the 
guardhouse,  for  seditious  conversation ; 
again,  another  was  thrown  into  prison  on 
suspicion  of  being  a  spy,  and  signalling 


the  enemy  from  the  church-steeple  ;  and 
all  were  daily  exposed  to  insult  from  the 
soldiers  and  wrong  from  the  authorities. 
It  was  not  until  food  became  scarce,  that 
Gage  would  allow  the  patriots  to  leave 
the  city,  and  thus  escape  his  persecutions. 
Even  then  they  were  not  permitted  to 
carry  away  with  them  their  valuables  or 
any  money,  beyond  a  few  pounds  each. 
Many,  however,  succeeded  in  eluding  the 
vigilance  of  the  guards ;  and  women  were 
known  to  have  carried  out  their  silver 
spoons,  sewed  in  the  lining  of  their  petr 
ticoats. 

The  tory  citizens  suffered,  in  common 
with  all,  from  the  scant  supply  of  the 
luxuries  and  even  the  necessities  of  life, 
but  kept  up  their  hearts  with  the  confi 
dent  hope  that  a  better  time  was  soon 
corning,  and,  as  one  wrote,  that  "  Boston 
will  be  this  winter  the  emporium  of  Amer 
ica  for  plenty  and  pleasure."  These  loy 
al  folks  rather  pitied  the  patriots,  and  in 
their  letters  to  those  of  their  friends  en 
gaged  in  the  American  cause,  "  heartily 
wished"  they  were  as  safe  as  they  them 
selves  were.  They  kept  up  a  forced  gay- 
ety  within  the  besieged  town,  by  an  oc 
casional  concert  and  farce,  at  the  play 
house  in  Faneuil  hall,  during  the  week ; 
and  managed  on  Sundays  to  form  a  "  gen 
teel  audience"  to  listen  to  the  "  excellent 
discourse"  of  the  tory  parson,  who  had 
"  received  a  call  to  the  elegant  new 
church"  vacated  by  the  flight  of  its  pa 
triotic  rector. 

There  were  certain  sufferers  within  the 
besieged  city,  whose  position  awakened 
especially  the  sympathy  of  the  patriots : 
these  were  the  prisoners  who  had  been 


192 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


taken  at  Bunker's  hill.  Washington,  hav 
ing  learned  that  they  were  treated  with 
severity,  and  that,  no  distinction  being 
made  between  officers  and  soldiers,  both 
were  thrown  into  a  common  jail,  deter 
mined  to  write  to  the  British  general, 
and  demand  redress.  His  letter  was  calm 
and  dignified. 

The  British  general  sent  an  answer, 
which  was  unnecessarily  irritating  and 
impolitic.  Gage  must  have  recalled  the 
old  times  when  he  and  Washington  were 
comrades  in  Braddock's  campaign ;  and, 
although  the  lapse  of  twenty  years  had 
brought  the  great  change  which  placed 
them  in  antagonism  as  enemies,  nothing 
had  ever  occurred  to  ruffle  the  relations 
which  the  two  bore  to  each  other  as  gen 
tlemen.  Gage  might  therefore  have  for 
borne  the  use  of  those  expressions  of  con 
tumely  in  which  he  indulged. 

Washington  rejoined  in  severe  but  well- 
merited  terms,  and,  true  to  his  word,  treat 
ed  his  British  prisoners  as  Gage  had  treat 
ed  the  Americans.  He  ordered  those  who 
had  enjoyed  comparative  liberty  at  Wa- 
tertown  and  Cape  Ann,  to  be  thrust  into 
jail  at  Northampton.  His  humanity,  how 
ever,  soon  revolted  at  this  severity,  and 
in  a  few  days  he  countermanded  those 
orders.  The  correspondence  with  Gage 
here  closed  for  ever,  as  Washington  had 
thought  probable. 

It  was  now  two  months  since  the  arri 
val  of  Washington  ;  and,  although  he  had 
been  active  in  strengthening  his  defences 
and  in  organizing  the  army  —  with  such 
a  success,  that  he  flattered  himself  that 
in  a  little  time  he  should  work  up  the 
"  raw  materials  into  a  ocood  manufacture" 


— yet  little  had  been  done  in  the  way 
of  active  hostility.  The  British  were  so 
hemmed  in,  and  so  depressed,  that  they 
showed  even  less  than  the  Americans  any 
disposition  toward  beginning  an  attack. 
A  battery,  however,  which  in  the  course 

of  a  night  had  risen  under  the 

i      f     +u  A  Aug.  26, 

busy  hands  01  a  thousand  patri 
ots,  on  the  top  of  Ploughed  hill,  excited 
the  enemy  to  action,  and  they  began  a 
brisk  cannonade  from  Bunker's  hill  upon 
the  new  American  works.  At  one  time 
the  British  were  seen  to  move,  and  it  was 
thought  that  they  were  preparing  for  an 
attack.  Washington,  accordingly,  with 
hopes  of  an  engagement,  sent  down  five 
thousand  men  on  the  Charlestown  road 
to  meet  the  enemy,  and  be  prepared  to 
give  battle.  The  British,  however,  did 
not  come  out;  and,  as  a  contemporary 
chronicler  records,  "  the  most  awful  si 
lence  was  observed  on  both  sides."  The 
next  day  the  bombardment  was  resumed, 
which  the  Americans,  careful  of  their  am 
munition,  did  not  return,  except  by  firing 
a  single  pounde^  with  which  they  suc 
ceeded  in  sinking  a  floating  battery. 

The  American  camp  was  greatly  en 
couraged  by  the  timely  arrival  of  a  sup 
ply  of  ammunition  from  Rhode  Island. 
It  was  said  to  have  been  got  from  the 
various  British  posts  on  the  coast  of  Af 
rica,  by  means  of  the  New-England  coast 
ers,  which  went  laden  with  native  rum, 
and  brought  back  a  "  fiery  commodity  of 
a  different  quality."  So  successful  was 
this  venture,  that  every  garrison  visited 
on  the  African  coast  was  supposed  to  have 
given  up  its  last  ounce  of  powder,  in  ex 
change  for  the  highly-marketable  Yankee 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARNOLD  ASTIR. 


193 


liquor.  The  British,  however,  still  kept 
within  Boston,  and  would  give  Washing 
ton  no  opportunity  to  use  with  effect  his 
fresh  supply  of  ammunition.  But  while 


thus  condemned  to  a  forced  inactivity  at    Canada. 


Sept,  12, 


Cambridge,  he  found  an  occasion 

for  the  employment  of  a  portion 

of  his  troops  in  active  service.     He  had 

resolved  upon  sending  an  expedition  to 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Allen  and  Arnold  disputing  for  the  Command  at  Ticonderoga. — Arnold  called  to  Account  by  the  Massachusetts  Legisla 
ture. — Throws  up  his  Commission  in  High  Dudgeon. — Returns  to  Cambridge. — Is  pacified  by  the  Prospect  of  a  Com 
mand  in  the  Expedition  to  Canada. — Appointed  to  co-operate  with  Schuyler. — Daniel  Morgan  and  his  Rifle-Corps. — 
Arnold  sets  out  for  Canada. — Schuyler  sets  out  also. — Illness  of  Schuyler. — Montgomery  succeeds  to  the  Command. 
-  -His  Life  and  Character. — Siege  of  St.  Johns. — Allen  succeeded  in  Command  of  the  Green-Mountain  Boys  by  Seth 
Warner. — Allen  goes  on  an  Expedition  on  his  own  Account. — Is  defeated  and  taken  Prisoner. — Sir  Guy  Carleton  de 
feated. —  St.  Johns  surrendered. 


WITH  the  successes  of  Ethan  Al 
len  and  Benedict  Arnold  at  Ticon- 
deroga  and  Crown  Point,  there  began  a 
strife  between  these  adventurous  leaders 
for  the  command  of  the  forts,  which  was, 
as  has  been  already  related,  temporarily 
decided  by  the  Connecticut  committee, 
which  had  accompanied  the  expedition, 
in  favor  of  Allen.  He  therefore  remained 
with  his  "  Green-mountain  boys,"  as  com 
mandant  of  Ticonderoga  and  its  depen 
dencies.  Arnold  was  forced  to  yield,  but 
did  it  with  an  ill  grace,  while  still  declar 
ing  that  his  rights  had  been  usurped. 
"  Colonel  Allen,"  he  wrote,  in  a  statement 
of  his  grievances  sent  to  the  Massachu 
setts  committee  of  safety,  "  is  a  proper 
man  to  head  his  own  wild  people,  but  en 
tirely  unacquainted  with  military  affairs ; 
and,  as  I  am  the  only  person  wrho  has 
been  legally  authorized  to  take  posses 
sion  of  this  place,  I  am  determined  to  in 
sist  upon  iny  right."  Allen  and  his  friends 
25 


of  course  had  their  own  views  upon  the 
subject,  and  took  care  to  make  them 
known  to  the  authorities. 

In  the  meantime,  the  restless  Arnold 
found  wrork  for  his  busy  activities.  Hav 
ing  armed  the  sloop,  schooner,  and  the 
batteaux  he  had  captured  at  Skenesbor- 
ough  and  St.  Johns,  he  appointed  his  cap 
tains,  and  hoisted  his  flag  as  the  self-con 
stituted  admiral  of  this  Lilliputian  squad 
ron.  Crown  Point  was  his  naval  station ; 
and  when  he  heard  rumors  of  the  ap 
proach  of  a  British  force  of  four  hundred 
from  Montreal,  he  valiantly  resolved  with 
his  armed  vessels  and  his  hundred  and 
fifty  men  to  defend  his  post,  and  remain 
master  of  the  waters  of  Lake  Champlain, 
upon  which  his  adventurous  flag  floated 
so  defiantly. 

Arnold  was  enabled  to  gather  valuable 
information  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Brit 
ish  in  Canada.  He  had,  during  former 
trading-enterprises,  made  acquaintances 


194 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


in  both  Montreal  and  Quebec,  with  whom 
he  now,  by  means  of  a  trusty  messenger, 
held  confidential  communication.  The 
result  Arnold  reported  to  the  continental 
Congress.  In  his  statement  he  said  that 
there  were  certain  persons  in  Montreal 
who  had  agreed  to  open  the  gates  to  an 
American  force ;  and  that  General  Guy 
Carleton,the  Canadian  governor,  had  only 
five  hundred  and  fifty  effective  men,  scat 
tered  at  different  posts,  to  oppose  an  at 
tack.  He,  moreover,  expressed  his  belief 
that  a  successful  expedition  against  all 
Canada  could  be  undertaken  with  two 
thousand  men ;  and,  offering  to  lead  it, 
pledged  himself  for  its  success. 

Arnold  was  waiting  impatiently  at 
Crown  Point  for  an  answer  to  his  propo 
sition  laid  before  the  Congress,  when  he 
was  disagreeably  surprised  and  his  ardent 
hopes  dashed  by  the  arrival  of  a  "  com 
mittee  of  three"  from  the  Massachusetts 
legislature,  empowered  to  make  certain 
inquiries  in  regard  to  his  "  spirit,  capaci 
ty,  and  conduct."  The  impetuous  Arnold 
could  not  brook  any  interference,  and  he 
was  greatly  indignant  when  the  commitr 
tee  laid  their  instructions  before  him. 
There  were  no  charges  specified ;  and, 
without  them,  he  declared,  and  with  seem 
ing  justice,  that  an  inquiry  into  his  "  con 
duct"  was  against  all  law  and  precedent. 
As  for  the  investigation  into  his  "  capa 
city  and  spirit,"  this  he  in  a  great  rage 
denounced  as  an  insult.  As  for  the  ac 
count  of  expenses  which  was  required  of 
him,  all  he  had  to  say  wras,  that  he  had 
already  paid  a  hundred  pounds  out  of  his 
own  pocket,  and  had  incurred  debts  in 
behalf  of  his  forces  which  must  be  paid, 


or  he  himself  would  be  personally  dishon 
ored.  Connecticut,  to  which  province 
Massachusetts  had  left  the  decision  of  the 
question  between  Arnold  and  Allen,  had 
settled  it  by  the  appointment  of  Colonel 
Hinman  as  commandant  of  the  forts  on 
Lake  Champlain.  This  so  enraged  Ar 
nold,  that  he  swore  he  never  would  sub 
mit  to  the  degradation  of  being  super 
seded  by  a  junior  officer.  Full  of  wrath 
and  disappointment,  he  resolved  upon 
throwing  up  his  commission,  and  wrote 
a  letter  of  resignation.  His  men  were 
discharged  by  Arnold,  and,  as  they  were 
unpaid,  they  became  as  unruly  and  resist 
ant  as  their  discontented  leader.  They 
were,  however,  soon  pacified  by  the  lib. 
eral  promises  of  the  committee,  and  most 
of  the  soldiers  were  induced  to  re-enlist. 
Arnold  himself  hurried  back  to  the  army 
at  Cambridge,  where  he  continued  vio 
lent  in  his  complaints  of  wrong,  and  rest 
lessly  discontented,  until  Washington  — 
conscious  of  the  daring  and  capacity  of 
the  man — found  in  the  proposed  expedi 
tion  against  Canada  a  suitable  scope  for 
the  exercise  of  that  turbulent  spirit  which 
seemed  only  calm  in  difficulty  and  dan 
ger. 

Congress  was  naturally  distrustful  of 
the  propositions  which  it  had  received 
from  such  men  as  Allen  and  Arnold. 
When  the  former  was  writing  in  such  a 
"  Bombastes"  vein  of  what  he  could  and 
would  do  ;  and  when  the  plans  of  the  lat- 
ter,  however  rational  they  might  seem, 
came  from  one  whose  conduct  was  a  sub 
ject  at  least  of  question,  it  was  right  that 
no  hasty  act  of  legislative  concurrence 
should  commit  the  Congress  to  plans  com- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  CANADA. 


195 


ing  from  such  apparently  doubtful  sources. 
Both  Arnold's  and  Allen's  letters  were 
characteristic  of  the  men.  Those  of  the 
former  were  arrogant  and  self-seeking, 
and  those  of  the  latter  exaggerated  and 
incoherent.  Allen  writes  to  the  provin 
cial  Congress  of  New  York:  — 

"  I  wish  to  God  America  would,  at  this 
critical  juncture,  exert  herself  agreeably 
to  the  indignity  offered  her  by  a  tyran 
nical  ministry.  She  might  rise  on  eagles' 
wings  and  mount  up  to  glory,  freedom, 
and  immortal  honor,  if  she  did  but  know 
and  exert  her  strength.  Fame  is  now 
hovering  over  her  head.  A  vast  conti 
nent  must  now  sink  to  slavery,  poverty, 
horror,  and  bondage,  or  rise  to  unconquer 
able  freedom,  immense  wealth,  inexpres 
sible  felicity,  and  immortal  fame. 

"  I  will  lay  my  life  on  it,  that,  with  fif 
teen  hundred  men  and  a  proper  train  of 
artilleiy.  I  will  take  Montreal.  Provided 
I  could  be  thus  furnished,  and  if  an  army 
could  command  the  field,  it  would  be  no 
insuperable  difficulty  to  take  Quebec." 

Arnold,  after  stating  the  plan  he  pro 
posed,  which  we  have  alreadv  mentioned, 
writes  to  the  continental  Congress  at  Phil 
adelphia: — 

"  I  beg  leave  to  add  that,  if  no  person 
appears  who  will  undertake  to  carry  the 
plan  into  execution,  I  will  undertake,  and 
with  the  smiles  of  Heaven  answer  for  the 
success,  provided  I  am  supplied  with  men, 
to  carry  it  into  execution  without  loss  of 
time 

"In  order  to  give  satisfaction  to  the 
different  colonies,  I  propose  that  Colonel 
Hinman's  regiment,  now  on  their  march 
from  Connecticut  to  Ticonderoga,  should 


form  part  of  the  army — say  one  thousand 
men — five  hundred  men  to  be  sent  from 
New  York,  five  hundred  of  General  Ar 
nold's  regiment,including  the  seamen  and 
marines  on  board  the  vessels  (no  Green- 
mountain  boys)." 

The  " no  G-reen-mountain  boys"  in  the  pa 
renthesis,  was  a  vindictive  thrust  at  Allen, 
whom  Arnold  hated  as  a  rival,  and  feared, 
from  his  adventurous  spirit  and  his  pop 
ularity  among  the  wild  settlers  of  the 
"New-Hampshire  grants,"  as  a  competi 
tor  in  his  own  line  of  daring  enterprise. 
The  services  of  both  Allen  and  Arnold, 
however,  were  too  valuable  to  be  disre 
garded  ;  and  both,  as  we  shall  see,  were 
to  be  again  availed  of. 

Schuyler,  of  New  York,  who  had  been 
appointed  one  of  the  major-generals  of 
the  army,  was,  after  some  hesitation  and 
delay,  directed  by  the  continental  Con 
gress  to  attempt,  by  the  way  of 
the  forts  on  Lake  Cham  plain,  an 
invasion  of  Canada.  The  time  was  now 
supposed  to  be  favorable,  as  the  governor, 
Guy  Carleton,  was  strengthening  the  Ca 
nadian  fortifications,  and  awaiting  rein 
forcements,  to  retake  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown  Point.  It  was  believed  that  the 
French-Canadians,  averse  to  British  do 
minion,  were  ready  to  wrelcome  any  pros 
pect  of  deliverance  from  their  English 
masters,  and  that  they  would  be  ready  to 
enroll  themselves  under  the  banner  of 
the  first  continental  force  that  should  pre 
sent  itself.  Schuyler  was  accordingly 
urged  to  advance  as  rapidly  as  possible 
into  Canada,  that  he  might  avail  himself 
of  the  present  favorable  disposition  of  the 
people,  and  anticipate  the  preparations 


June  17. 


196 

for  defence  which  had  been  made  by  the 
British  authorities. 

Washington  saw  Arnold  often  at  head 
quarters,  and  was  so  struck  with  the  un 
daunted  spirit  of  the  man,  and  his  evident 
familiarity  with  the  ground  and  position 
of  affairs  in  Canada,  that  he  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  confide  to  him  the  command  of 
the  force  he  had  resolved  upon  sending, 
to  co-operate  with  Schuyler.  Eleven  hun 
dred  men  were  detached  for  this  service. 
They  were  for  the  most  part  picked  New- 
England  troops,  to  which  were  added 
three  companies  of  riflemen  from  Penn 
sylvania  and  Virginia.  At  the  head  of 
this  rifle-corps  was  Captain  DANIEL  MOR 
GAN,  who,  on  his  arrival  in  the  camp  with 
his  band  of  sharpshooters  a  few  weeks 
before,  had  greatly  excited  the  curiosity 
of  the  whole  army.  Morgan  himself  was 
a  remarkable  man  in  appearance,  with 
his  great,  stalwart  frame  ;  and  his  follow 
ers  were  no  less  conspicuous  for  their 
size  and  strength.  Many  of  them  were 
gaunt  Irishmen,  and  their  leathern  hunts 
men's  dress  added  to  their  wildness  of 
aspect.  Each  wore  upon  his  breast  the 
motto  "Liberty  or  death!"  —  and,  what 
with  their  fierce  look  and  unrestrained 
manners,  Daniel  Morgan  and  his  men 
were  regarded  by  the  prim  New-England- 
ers  very  much  as  if  they  were  so  many 
savages.  The  camp  was  not  averse  to 
their  departure,  as,  apart  from  their  some 
what  rude  bearing,  the  fact  of  so  many 
of  them  being  Irishmen  was  no  recom 
mendation  in  those  early  days  to  popular 
favor. 

Arnold,  having  been  appointed  colonel 
by  Washington,  set  out,  on  the  13th  of 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


1775, 


September,  with  his  eleven  hun 
dred  men,  for  Canada.  The  expe 
dition  was  one  full  of  danger  and  diffi 
culty,  and  was  thus  peculiarly  attractive 
to  its  bold  and  adventurous  leader,  as  it 
was  to  other  youthful  and  ardent  spirits, 
who  fretted  impatiently  against  the  inac 
tivity  of  the  camp  at  Cambridge.  Aaron 
Burr,  then  only  twenty  years  of  age,  was 
at  that  time  serving  in  a  Newr-Jersey  regi 
ment,  but,  when  he  heard  of  Arnold's  ex 
pedition,  offered  himself  as  a  volunteer, 
and  was  accepted,  much  to  the  satisfac 
tion  of  his  martial  longings.  The  chief 
officers  under  Arnold  as  the  colonel,  were 
LieutenantrColonel  Christopher  Greene, 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Roger  Enos,  and  Ma 
jors  Bigelow  and  Meigs. 

The  route  to  be  taken  by  the  expedi 
tion  was  by  the  Kennebec  river,  through 
a  wilderness,  to  Canada,  and  was  known 
only  through  the  reports  of  some  rare 
traveller  or  the  vague  accounts  of  the 
Indians.  Two  explorers  were  sent  in 
advance,  to  make  their  way  secretly  to 
Quebec,  and  to  return  to  Arnold  on  his 
march  with  what  information  they  could 
obtain.  Washington  had  made  every 
possible  provision  for  the  success  of  the 
enterprise.  Transports  were  provided  at 
Newburyport,  and  carpenters  sent  from 
Cambridge  to  construct  two  hundred  bat- 
teaux  on  the  banks  of  the  Kennebec  for 
the  conveyance  of  the  troops  up  that  riv 
er.  Arnold  marched  to  Newburyport, 
and  thence,  after  taking  care  to  send  out 
several  small  boats,  to  look  if  the  coast 
was  clear  of  British  cruisers,  embarked 
his  force  in  the  eleven  vessels  which  had 
been  provided,  and  sailed  on  the  19th  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


EICHARD  MONTGOMERY. 


197 


September  for  the  mouth  of  the  Kenne- 
bec  river. 

General  Schuyler  had  in  the  mean 
while,  in  accordance  with  the  orders  of 
Congress,  left  New  York  for  the  north, 
reaching  Ticonderoga  on  the  18th  of  Ju 
ly,  where  he  was  long  delayed  in  fortify 
ing  that  post.  Having  placed  the  fort 
under  the  command  of  General  Richard 
Montgomery,  Schuyler  returned  to  Alba 
ny,  to  meet  with  the  chiefs  of  the  Caugh- 
nawagas  and  of  the  Six  Nations,  assem 
bled  to  confer  with  him,  with  the  view 
of  a  treaty.  While  here,  he  received  a 
despatch  from  Washington  at  Cambridge, 
informing  him  of  the  project  he  had  de 
vised  of  sending  a  detachment  of  his 
troops  to  Canada,  This  intelligence  was 
joyfully  received  by  Schuyler,  as  it  fell 
in  very  opportunely  with  the  expedition 
which  he  himself  had  just  resolved — in 
consequence  of  some  information  he  had 
received  of  the  position  of  affairs  in  Can 
ada — to  send  against  that  province.  He 
answered  Washington's  despatch,  with  a 
very  hopeful  expression  of  the  probable 
success  of  the  proposed  enterprises,  and 
immediately  prepared  to  perform  his 
share  of  the  undertaking. 

From  Albany  Schuyler  pushed  on  to 
Ticonderoga,  but,  on  arriving  there,  found 
Montgomery  had  gone,  leaving  wrord  for 
his  superior  to  follow  him  at  once  in  a 
whale-boat.  Montgomery  had  heard  of 
a  proposed  movement  of  Sir  Guy  Carle- 
ton,  by  which  that  British  officer  intend 
ed,  with  a  fleet  of  armed  vessels,  wThich 
were  nearly  ready,  to  sail  from  St.  Johns 
through  the  Sorel  river  into  Lake  Cham- 
plain.  To  anticipate  this  manoeuvre,  Mont- 


Aug.  30. 


gomery  embarked  in  haste  with  a  thou 
sand  men  and  two  fieldpieces,  and  sailed 
from  Ticonderoga  to  the  Isle  aux  Noix, 
with  the  view  of  taking  possession  and 
fortifying  that  island,  at  the  entrance  of 
the  Sorel  river,  and  thus  preventing  the 
approach  of  the  enemy. 

Schuyler,  on  his  arrival  at  Ticondero 
ga  in  the  night,  was  so  ill  with 
fever,  that  he  was  unable  to  fol 
low  Montgomery  until  the  next  morning, 
and  then  by  the  slow  conveyance  of  a 
batteau  instead  of  a  whale-boat,  as  he  was 
too  weak  to  proceed  except  on  a  bed, 
which  could  only  be  spread  in  the  larger 
craft.  It  was  several  days  before  he  over 
took  Montgomery ;  and  then,  assuming 
the  command,  the  force  proceeded  to  the 
Isle  aux  Noix,  which  they  reached  on  the 
4th  of  September.  Trusting  to  the  re 
port  of  very  formidable  preparations  by 
the  enemy,  Schuyler,  after  sailing  down 
the  Sorel  to  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of 
St.  Johns,  and  receiving  a  few  shots  from 
the  garrison,  determined  to  return  to  the 
Isle  aux  Noix.  Upon  reaching  this  place, 
Schuyler  yielded  up  the  command  to 
Montgomery,  and  returned  himself  to  Ti 
conderoga,  to  recruit  his  broken  health, 
and  do  what  he  could  in  furthering  the 
objects  of  the  expedition,  by  forwarding 
men  and  supplies. 

RICHARD  MONTGOMERY  was  perhaps  as 
ardent  and  hasty  as  Schuyler  was  cool 
and  cautious.  Quick  blood  was  charac 
teristic  of  the  Irish  descent  of  the  former, 
and  torpid  phlegm  was  not  unnatural  in 
one  of  Dutch  origin.  Montgomery,  al 
though  born  in  Ireland,  came  early  to 
America,  as  a  young  subaltern  in  a  Brit 


198 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


ish  regiment.,  but  won  a  commission  as 
lieutenant  by  his  bravery  at  Louisburg. 
Subsequently  serving  with  Amherst,  he 
was  promoted  to  a  captaincy ;  and  at  the 
close  of  the  French  War,  he  retired  to 
Eno-land.  His  visit  to  America,  however, 

O  '  ' 

had  attached  him  to  the  land  and  its  peo 
ple.  He  accordingly  sold  his  commission, 
and,  purchasing  an  estate  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson,  retired  there  with  a  wife 
whom  he  had  married  in  New  York :  here 
he  desired  to  live  a  quiet  life,  in  domes 
tic  happiness  and  the  peaceful  pursuit  of 
husbandry.  His  repose,  however,  lasted 
but  three  years.  The  disturbances  with 
the  mother-country  having  broken  out, 
he  joined  the  popular  cause,  and  was, 
from  his  earnest  attachment  to  the  prin 
ciples  of  liberty,  and  his  military  experi 
ence,  elected  by  the  continental  Con 
gress  second  in  rank  of  the  brigadier- 
generals.  He  was  still  a  young  man,  not 
having  reached  his  fortieth  year,  but  had 
the  reputation  of  prudence  in  counsel,  al 
though  known  to  be  impetuous  in  spirit. 
His  personal  appearance  was  all  in  his 
favor,  having  a  frank,  handsome  face,  and 
a  well-proportioned,  manly  figure.  He 
was  a  great  favorite  with  his  men,  and  in 
action  they  did  not  hesitate  to  follow  wil 
lingly  wherever  their  gallant  commander 
led  them. 

Montgomery,  now  in  command,  was 
eager  to  be  at  work :  so  he  prepared  at 
once  to  invest  St.  Johns.  He  first  sent 
forward  a  force  of  five  hundred  men,  to 
command  the  junction  of  the  two  roads 
which  lead  to  Chambly  and  Montreal,  and 
thus  cut  off  supplies  and  reinforcements 
from  that  direction.  Montgomery  then, 


having  thrown  across  the  entrance  to  So- 
rel  river  a  quantity  of  trees  and  brush 
wood,  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  enemy's 
vessels  into  the  lake,  advanced  his  forces 
and  artillery  to  within  a  short  distance 
of  St.  Johns.  Here,  while  exposed  to  a 
brisk  fire,  he  commenced  his  operations 
for  a  siege,  constructing  batteries  and 
other  covers  for  his  attack.  His  means, 
however,  proved  miserably  scanty.  His 
artillery  was  deficient  in  guns,  and  not 
of  sufficient  weight ;  his  ammunition  was 
small  in  quantity,  and  his  men  were  not 
sufficiently  skilled  in  the  management  ot 
the  cannon.  The  ground,  too,  on  which 
he  had  taken  his  position  was  swampy, 
and  so  crowded  with  trees  and  under 
growth  as  to  interfere  greatly  with  the 
works.  To  add  still  more  to  his  misfor 
tunes,  disease  broke  out  among  the  troops, 
who,  finally  losing  spirit,  began  to  grow 
disaffected.  Montgomery  now  proposed 
to  change  his  position  to  a  spot  at  the 
northwest,  where  some  heights  would 
give  him  more  suitable  ground,  and  a  bet 
ter  chance  at  the  enemy.  This  plan,  after 
some  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  men 
and  officers,  was  finally  adopted ;  and  the 
troops  shifted  their  position,  and  began 
to  throw  up  anew  some  works  on  the 
fresh  place  selected. 

While  Montgomery  was  at  the  Isle  aux 
Noix,  Ethan  Allen  and  Major  Brown  had 
been  sent  with  a  few  men  on  a 
secret  enterprise  into  Canada,  to 
endeavor  to  obtain  recruits  among  the 
inhabitants  of  that  province,  who  were 
reported  to  be  favorably  disposed  toward 
the  patriot  cause.  Allen  had  been  obliged 
to  yield  the  command  of  his  beloved 


Sept,  5, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ETHAN  ALLEN  IN  CANADA. 


199 


"  Green-mountain  boys"  to  Seth  Warner. 
In  his  own  account  of  his  loss  he  said : 
"  Notwithstanding  my  zeal  and  success  in 
my  country's  cause,  the  old  farmers  on 
the  New-Hampshire  grants,  who  do  not 
incline  to  go  to  war,  have  met  in  a  com 
mittee  meeting,  and.  in  their  nomination 
of  officers  for  the  regiment  of  Green- 
mountain  boys,  have  wholly  omitted  me. 
I  find  myself  in  the  favor  of  the  officers 
of  the  army  and  the  young  Green-mount 
ain  boys.  How  the  old  men  came  to  re 
ject  me  I  can  not  conceive,  inasmuch  as 
I  saved  them  from  the  encroachments  of 
New  York." — "The  old  men,"  says  Ir 
ving,  who  quotes  this  letter,  "  probably 
doubted  his  discretion." 

Allen,  thus  deprived  of  his  command, 
was  so  desirous  of  having  a  share  in  the 
expected  glories  of  the  northern  expedi 
tion,  that  he  solicited  employment  from 
Schuyler,  and  was  accordingly  attached 
to  the  army.  That  so  harum-scarum  a 
character  should  be  intrusted  with  the 
delicate  service  upon  which  he  was  now 
engaged,  seems  very  remarkable  ;  but  his 
success  was  still  more  astounding,  if  we 
can  take  his  own  word  :  — 

"  I  am  now,"  Allen  writes  to  Montgom 
ery,  "at  the  parish  of  St.  Ours,  four  leagues 
from  Sorel,  to  the  south.  I  have  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  Canadians  under  arms.  As 
I  march,  they  gather  fast.  You  may  re 
ly  on  it,  that  I  shall  join  you  in  about 
three  days,  with  five  hundred  or  more 
Canadian  volunteers.  I  could  raise  one 
or  two  thousand  in  a  week's  time ;  but  I 
will  first  visit  the  army  with  a  less  num 
ber,  and,  if  necessary,  go  again  recruiting. 
Those  that  used  to  be  enemies  to  our 


cause,  come  cap  in  hand  to  me ;  and  I 
swear  by  the  Lord,  I  can  raise  three  times 
the  number  of  our  army  in  Canada  pro 
vided  you  continue  the  siege.  The  eyes 
of  all  America,  nay,  of  Europe,  are  or  will 
be  on  the  economy  of  this  army  and  the 
consequences  attending  it." 

Brown  and  Allen,  who  had  separated 
in  the  course  of  their  recruiting-duties 
in  Canada,  now  met  between  Longueuil 
and  La  Prairie.  Brown,  declaring  that 
the  garrison  at  Montreal  was  composed 
only  of  some  thirty  men,  suggested  that 
the  occasion  was  favorable  for  an  attack 
upon  that  city.  Allen's  adventurous  spir 
it  was  up  in  a  moment,  and  he  eagerly 
seized  the  opportunity  of  distinguishing 
himself.  It  was  then  agreed  between  the 
two,  that  the  enterprise  should  be  under 
taken  by  them  jointly;  and  it  was  ar 
ranged  that  Allen  should  return  with  his 
force  to  Longueuil,  and  cross  the  St.  Law 
rence  to  the  opposite  bank  a  little  below 
Montreal,  while  Brown  should  proceed 
farther  up  the  river  with  his  two  hundred 
men  and  land  above  the  city.  The  two 
forces  were  then  to  march  from  their  sev 
eral  positions,  and  attack  Montreal  simul 
taneously  from  two  opposite  points. 

The  two  men  separated,  and  Allen  led 
his  eighty  Canadians  and  thirty  Ameri 
cans — for  this  was  the  whole  extent  of 
his  force,  notwithstanding  the  grandilo 
quent  account  he  had  sent  to  Montgom 
ery  of  the  success  of  his  recruiting-service 
— back  to  Longueuil.  On  arriving  at  this 

place, \vhich  is  nearly  opposite  to 

-,.  .    .    n  . 

Montreal, he  was  disappointed  m 

not  finding  a  sufficient  number  of  canoes 
to  take  all  his  men  over  the  river  at  once. 


200 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


He  succeeded,  however,  in  getting  them 
all  across  in  the  course  of  the  night,  and 
in  safety, notwithstanding  that  the  weath 
er  was  boisterous,  and  the  stream  so  dis 
turbed  by  the  blustering  wind,  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  the  canoes  were  kept  from 
being  overset.  Sending  out  guards  on 
the  road  to  Montreal,  to  prevent  a  sur 
prise,  Allen  anxiously  awaited  to  hear  of 
Browrn's  landing.  The  night  was  fast  pas 
sing,  and  no  word  came  from  Brown ;  day 
dawned,  and  still  nothing  was  heard  of 
the  impatiently-waited-for  Brown. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  enemy  had  got 
the  alarm,  and  sent  out  forty  regulars  and 
a  considerable  number  of  Canadians  and 
Indians,  to  drive  away  the  invaders.  Al 
len  could  not  retreat,  as  there  were  not 
enough  canoes  to  take  his  men  back  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  he  ac 
cordingly  prepared  to  give  battle.  A  se 
vere  struggle  ensued,  which  lasted  for 
nearly  two  hours ;  but  most  of  Allen's 
raw  Canadian  recruits  having  given  wray, 
he  was  left  with  only  twenty-eight  Amer 
icans,  seven  of  whom  were  wounded. 
There  was  no  alternative  now  for  Allen 
but  surrender,  and  he  accordingly  yield 
ed  himself  up  to  the  British  major  and 
his  force,  with  the  condition,  however,  of 
honorable  terms  for  himself  and  his  men. 
He  was  then  led  into  the  city,  and  brought 
before  General  Prescott,  the  command 
ant,  when  — 

"He  asked  me,"  writes  Allen,  "rrry  name, 
which  I  told  him.  He  then  asked  me 
whether  I  was  that  Colonel  Allen  who 
took  Ticonderoga.  I  told  him  I  was  the 
very  man.  Then  he  shook  his  cane  over 
my  head,  calling  me  many  hard  names, 


among  which  he  frequently  used  the  word 
'  rebel,'  and  put  himself  in  a  great  rage." 
The  wild  appearance  of  Allen  and  his 
men,  with  their  rough  huntsmen's  shirts, 
had  certainly  nothing  of  the  military  '•  reg 
ulation"  character,  and  it  was  not  surpri 
sing  that  a  general  of  the  "  regular  army" 
should  look  at  his  prisoners  as  so  many 
freebooters.  "  Their  leader,"  says  Irving. 
"  albeit  a  colonel,  must  have  seemed  wor 
thy  of  the  band ;  for  Allen  was  arrayed 
in  rough,  frontier  style  —  a  deerskin  jack 
et,  a  vest  and  breeches  of  coarse  serge, 
worsted  stockings,  stout  shoes,  and  a  red 
woollen  cap." 

Ethan  was  treated  without  regard  to 
his  rank  as  colonel,  and  he  and  his  men 
were  indiscriminately  handcuffed,  shack 
led,  and  sent  away  to  be  thrust  into  the 
hold  of  the  Gaspee  schooner-of-war,  and 
thus  carried  to  England ;  the  British  com 
mandant  of  the  fort  swearing  at  Allen  as 
he  was  led  off,  and  telling  him  he  deserved 
a  halter. 

Allen,  before  the  schooner  sailed,  took 
occasion  to  write  to  General  Prescott,  in 
his  usual  rhetorical  vein,  and  then  reluc 
tantly  yielded  to  his  fate.  The  Gaspee 
schooner  was  his  prison  for  five  weeks, 
and  then  he  was  transferred  at  Quebec 
to  another  British  vessel,  which  carried 
him  to  Falmouth,  in  England,  where  he 
was  confined  in  Pendennis  castle.  Sub 
sequently  he  was  sent  back  to  America, 
and,  after  an  imprisonment  of  a  year  and 
a  half  at  New  York  while  in  possession 
of  the  British  forces,  he  was  exchanged 
for  an  English  officer,  when  he  retired  to 
his  home  in  Vermont,  and  lived  there  to 
a  good  age,  to  talk  and  write  copiously 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SURRENDER  OF  ST.  JOHNS. 


201 


about  his  wonderful  exploits  and  adven 
tures. 

While  poor  Ethan  Allen's  ambitious 
flights  were  thus  suddenly  clipped  at 
Montreal,  a  great  triumph  awaited  his 
old  band  of  "  Green-mountain  boys,"  un 
der  the  command  of  Seth  Warner,  with 
the  aid  of  Brown,  who,  for  some  reason 
or  other  Avhich  has  never  been  explained, 
instead  of  fulfilling  his  agreement  with 
Allen,  had  returned  to  the  main  body  un 
der  Montgomery.  General  Guy  Carle- 
ton,  having  finished  his  boats,  and  gath 
ering  a  large  but  miscellaneous  force  of 
British,  Canadians,  and  Indians,  embarked 
them  at  Montreal,  with  the  view  of  pro 
ceeding  to  the  relief  of  St.  Johns,  invest 
ed  by  Montgomery.  Carleton,  however, 
in  attempting  to  cross  the  St.  Lawrence, 
met  with  an  unexpected  opposition  from 
Seth  Warner,  who  with  his  "  Green-mount 
ain  boys"  posted  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
near  Longueuil,  opened  such  .a  brisk  fire 


upon  the  enemy,  that  they  were  forced 
in  great  confusion  to  fall  back  again  into 
Montreal.  This,  together  with  Brown's 
success  at  Chambly,  and  his  defeat  of  a 
band  of  Highlanders  on  their  march  to 
co-operate  with  Carleton,  decided  the  fate 
of  St.  .Johns.  Montgomery,  as  soon  as 
he  received  word  of  the  defeat  of  Carle- 
ton,  summoned  the  garrison  to  surrender, 
informing  the  commandant  that  his  ex 
pected  reinforcement  had  been  cut  off. 
The  brave  Preston,  the  British  command 
ant,  doubted  the  truth  of  the  report,  and 
declared  that  he  would  still  hold  out  for 
four  days ;  but,  provided  the  aid  he  anti 
cipated  did  not  come  in  the  course  of  that 
time,  he  would  give  up  the  fort.  The  aid 
of  course  did  not  come.  St.  Johns  was 
then  surrendered.  Montgomery  now  ad 
vanced  upon  Montreal,  the  gates 
of  which  were  opened  without 
resistance,  and  the  Americans  entered  in 
triumph. 


Nov.  12, 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Arnold  sails  up  the  Kennebec. — The  Difficulties  and  Dangers  of  the  Passage. — The  Falls  of  Norridgewock. — The  Portage 
and  its  Trials. — The  Great  Portage. — The  Dead  River. — A  Deluge. — A  Camp  overflowed. — The  Swollen  Stream, 
and  the  Dangers  of  its  Navigation. — Discouragement  of  the  Men. — Return  of  the  most  Discouraged. — Retreat  of  Enos, 
contrary  to  Orders. — Washington's  Confidence  in  Arnold's  Success,  in  spite  of  Bad  News. — Increasing  Difficulties. — 
Snow  and  Ice. — Arnold,  with  a  Small  Party,  pushes  on  in  advance. — Entrance  of  the  Chaudiere. — "A  Fall  ahead." — 
Narrow  Escape  from  Destruction. — Safe  Arrival  at  Sertigan. — Abundance  of  Provisions. — Relief  sent  to  those  in  the 
Rear. — Arnold  well  received  by  the  Canadians. — Pushes  on,  and  reaches  the  Bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence  opposite  to 
Quebec. — Disappointed  in  not  finding  Boats. — Crosses  in  Canoes. — Lands  in  Wolfe's  Cove. — Scales  the  Heights  of 
Abraham. — Summons  Quebec  to  surrender. — Answered  by  a  Fire. — Retires,  and  awaits  the  Approach  of  Montgomery 


1775, 


ARNOLD  entered  the  Kennebec  on 
the  20th  of  September,  and  sailed 
up  to  Gardiner  without  difficulty,  save 
the  grounding  of  one  or  two  of  his  trans- 

26 


ports,  which  were,  however,  finally  got 
off  At  Pittston,  opposite  to  Gardiner,  he 
found  in  readiness  the  two  hundred  bat- 
teaux  which  had  been  constructed  by  the 


202 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


carpenters  sent  by  "Washington  from  the 
camp  at  Cambridge  ;  and  he  accordingly 
transhipped  his  men  and  provisions  into 
these  boats,  and  continued  his  route  to 
Fort  Western.  On  reaching  this  point, 
Arnold  found  an  Indian  messenger,  with 
news  from  the  two  pioneers  he  had  sent 
on  in  advance  to  obtain  information  of 
the  proposed  route  of  the  expedition. 
There  was  little,  however,  that  was  satis 
factory  in  the  communication  received, 
as  the  pioneers  had  only  penetrated  as 
far  as  the  head-waters  of  the  Dead  river, 
and  sent  back  such  discouraging  accounts 
of  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  the  wil 
derness,  that  it  was  presumed  they  had 
given  ear  to  the  exaggerated  tales  of  the 
Indians,  who,  although  professing  to  be 
friendly  to  the  Americans,  were  suspect 
ed  to  be  in  the  interest  of  the  British  in 
Canada. 

Arnold,  however,  was  not  the  man  to 
be  swerved  from  his  purpose  by  any  re 
ports  of  danger,  nor  in  fact  by  danger  it 
self.  He  accordingly  persisted  in  his  plan 
of  forcing  his  way  through  the  wilderness, 
in  spite  of  its  terrors.  The  course  he 
marked  out  for  himself  was  along  the 
western  branch  of  the  Kennebec,  called 
the  Dead  river,  and  through  Lake  Megan- 
tic  into  the  Chaudiere.  Arnold,  having 
sent  in  advance  two  parties  of  half  a  dozen 
men  each,  to  survey  the  route  and  obtain 
what  information  they  could,  began  to 
move  his  whole  force.  The  army  was 
divided  into  four  parts,  each  of  which  set 
out  on  separate  days,  that  there  might 
be  always  a  day's  distance  between  the 
divisions.  Morgan,  with  his  riflemen,  led 
the  van ;  on  the  next  day  went  Greene 


and  Bigelow,  with  three  companies ;  on 
the  third,  Meigs  with  four ;  and  finally, 
on  the  fourth,  Enos  with  the  remainder. 

Arnold  having,  with  great  personal  ef 
fort,  succeeded  in  starting  his  forces,  now 
set  out  himself  in  a  birch- canoe,  and 
pushed  his  way  so  rapidly  along  the  Ken 
nebec,  that  on  the  third  day  he  reached 
the  van  of  his  little  army  under  Morgan, 
who  had  got  as  far  as  the  falls  of  Nor- 
ridgewock.  Here  there  was  a  portage, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  land  and  car 
ry  the  boats  around  the  falls,  to  the  part 
of  the  stream  above,  where  it  was  naviga 
ble.  As  the  banks  of  the  river  were  com 
posed  chiefly  of  irregular  rocks,  the  labor 
of  the  men  was  immense ;  but  Arnold, 
always  active,  and  personally  overseeing 
all  the  details  of  the  work,  succeeded  in 
getting  each  division,  as  it  came  up,  in 
safety  around  the  falls.  They  were  not 
able  to  set  out  again  on  their  route  for 
nearly  a  week,  in  consequence  of  the  con 
dition  of  the  batteaux,  which,  being  new 
and  hastily  constructed,  leaked  so  badly, 
that  much  of  the  provision  was  damaged. 
They  had  their  carpenters,  however,  with 
them,  who  set  to  work  making  the  neces 
sary  repairs,  and  all  the  boats  were  again 
launched  and  pushing  on  their  course. 

Arnold  remained  until  the  last  batteau 
had  shoved  off,  and  then  betook  himself 
again  to  his  birchen  canoe,  with  his  In 
dian  guide,  and  paddled  swiftly  on,  pas 
sing  all  the  boats,  until  he  reached  the 
"Great Carrying-place," between  the  Ken 
nebec  and  its  western  branch,  or  Dead 
river.  The  first  two  divisions  of  his  force 
had  already  arrived  at  this  place,  and  here 
awaited  them  a  labor  more  toilsome  than 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  GREAT  PORTAGE. 


203 


even  what  they  had  already  undergone. 
The  men  thus  far  had  successfully  over 
come  all  the  difficulties  of  their  arduous 
voyage.  They  had  forced  their  course 
against  the  rapid  current  by  often  jump 
ing  into  the  stream  up  to  their  waists, 
and  shoving  their  boats  along  by  main 
strength.  "You  would  have  taken  the 
men,"  wrote  Arnold  to  Washington,  "  for 
amphibious  animals,  as  they  were  great 
part  of  the  time  under  water."  They  had 
been  obliged  to  drag  or  carry  their  boats 
already  over  no  less  than  four  portages. 
The  men,  however,  had  borne  the  labor 
and  exposure  so  far  without  much  suffer 
ing  ;  for,  although  the  effective  force  was 
reduced,  by  illness  and  desertion,  from 
eleven  hundred  to  nine  hundred  and  fif 
ty,  there  had  been  but  one  death.  Ar 
nold  was,  as  usual,  full  of  hope,  and  san- 
guinely  held  out  to  his  men  that  he  would 
take  them  to  the  Chaudiere  river  in  lit 
tle  more  than  a  week. 

But  the  "  Great  Portage"  was  now  be 
fore  them,  and  its  obstacles  proved  more 
formidable  than  was  anticipated  by  Ar 
nold.  The  batteaux  were  to  be  alter 
nately  carried  by  the  men,  dragged  by 
oxen,  and  floated,  through  a  space  of  some 
fifteen  miles  of  rugged  territory,  with  pre 
cipitous  granite  rocks,  morasses,  ponds, 
and  other  rude  features,  of  what  was  then 
a  remote  wilderness,  and  is  still  a  wildly- 
picturesque  country.  Arnold,  however, 
undertook  the  work,  and  accomplished  it. 
His  men  were  able  to  obtain  a  welcome 
refreshment  in  the  large  quantities  of  sal 
mon  and  trout  which  they  caught  in  the 
lakes  and  streams  ;  and  Arnold  judicious 
ly  built  a  log-house  on  the  route,  where 


he  left  the  sick  and  disabled,  and  thus  dis 
embarrassed  himself  of  those  who  only 
encumbered  his  progress.  On  reaching 
the  Dead  river,  and  launching  their  bat- 
teaux  upon  its  waters,  the  men,  as  they 
moved  easily  on  its  smooth  surface,  with 
hardly  a  resistance  from  the  gentle  cur 
rent,  were  cheered  with  the  hope  that 
their  greatest  trials  were  over.  They 
continued  their  course  in  fine  spirits,  and 
looked  with  delighted  wonder  upon  the 
solemn  beauties  of  the  scenery,  where 
great  mountains,  topped  with  snow,  rose 
high  and  clear  above  the  forest  wilder 
ness. 

On  reaching  the  base  of  one  of  the 
highest  of  the  mountain-range,  Arnold 
hoisted  the  American  flag,  and  encamped 
his  men,  for  several  days'  repose.  There 
seems  to  have  been  still  a  superfluity  of 
animal  spirits  in  the  army,  for  one  of  the 
officers  took  occasion  to  mount  to  the 
top  of  the  peak  which  is  now  called 
"  Mount  Bigelow,"  from,  the  adventurous 
major  of  that  name  who  accomplished  the 
ascent. 

Arnold  now  began  to  fear  that  his  pro 
visions  would  fall  short ;  so  he  sent  back 
a  party  of  ninety  men  for  supplies :  but, 
directing  them  to  make  the  utmost  speed, 
so  as  not  to  detain  him,  he  continued  to 
pursue  his  route.  The  riflemen  he  sent 
on  in  advance,  and  followed  himself  with 
the  second  division  a  day  subsequently. 
He  had  no  sooner  started,  than  it  began 
to  rain,  and  did  not  cease  for  three  days, 
pouring  down  a  perfect  deluge,  drench 
ing  the  men  to  the  skin,  and  wetting  the 
baggage  through  and  through.  The  riv 
er  now  beo;an  to  swell  from  the  effects  of 


204 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


the  constant  rain,  and  the  current  became 
so  rapid,  that  it  was  with  the  utmost  dif 
ficulty  the  boats  could  stem  the  torrent. 
Worn  out  with  fatigue,  the  men  landed 
and  encamped  at  the  close  of  a  day  of 
hard  work,  upon  some  low  ground  on  the 
margin  of  the  stream,  and  had  hardly 
laid  down  for  a  night's  repose,  when  the 
river,  which  had  overflowed  its  banks, 
came  rushing  in  upon  them  so  rapidly, 
that  they  barely  succeeded  in  reaching 
their  boats.  Embarked  again,  they  found 
themselves  bewildered  in  their  attempts 
to  keep  their  course,  and  were  constantly 
wandering  out  of  their  way  into  the  smal 
ler  branches  of  the  river,  which  had  been 
swollen  into  great  streams  by  the  deluge. 
The  waters,  too,  were  so  thick  with  drift 
wood  and  so  turbulent,  that  there  was 
danger  every  moment  of  the  whole  fleet 
of  boats  being  swamped ;  and  finally  sev 
en  of  the  batteaux  were  upset,  and  ev 
erything  in  them  swept  away  in  the  tor 
rent. 

The  men  now  became  so  disheartened 
by  this  accident,  which  greatly  dimin 
ished  their  supplies,  that  Arnold  thought 
it  expedient  to  land  and  consult  with  his 
officers  upon  what  should  be  done  in  the 
emergency.  By  the  advice  of  their  lead 
er,  who  was  never  despondent,  it  was  re 
solved  to  persevere,  after  the  force  should 
be  relieved  of  those  who  were  too  ill  or 
faint-hearted  to  proceed.  A  number  were 
accordingly  sent  back,  and  with  them  or 
ders  to  Greene  of  the  third,  and  Colonel 
Enos  who  had  command  of  the  last  divis 
ion,  at  some  distance  still  in  the  rear,  to 
select  their  strongest  men,  and,  hurrying 
forward  with  them,  to  leave  the  rest  to 


return  along  with  Arnold's  own  invalided 
party  to  Norridgewock.  Greene  did  as 
he  was  bid ;  but  Enos,  instead  of  obeying 
his  orders,  retreated  with  his  whole  force 
to  Cambridge,  where  he  was  tried  by  a 
court-martial,  and  acquitted  on  the  plea 
of  a  want  of  provisions. 

Washington,  on  hearing  of  Enos's  aban 
donment  of  his  leader,was  greatly  grieved, 
though  he  did  not  seem  to  doubt  but  that 
Arnold  would  ultimately  overcome  every 
obstacle.  "Notwithstanding  this  great 
defection,"  wrote  the  commander-in-chief, 
"  I  do  not  despair  of  Colonel  Arnold's  suc 
cess."  Arnold  showed  himself  in  every 
respect  worthy  of  this  confidence  in  his 
resolute  energies,  and  continued,  under 
increasing  trials  to  his  patience  and  coui*- 
age,  to  strive  on  as  manfully  as  ever. 

The  weather  continued  to  get  worse, 
for  the  rain  changed  to  a  heavy  fall  of 
snow,  and  the  men  suffered  now  from  ex 
cessive  cold  as  well  as  from  the  dripping 
wet ;  while,  to  add  to  their  discomforts, 
ice  formed  upon  the  water,  through  which 
they  had  to  break  when  wading  and  drag 
ging  their  boats  along.  Arnold,  unwil 
ling  to  force  his  army  through  difficulties 
which  seemed  too  much  for  their  powers 
of  endurance,  now  determined  to  push  on 
with  a  small  party  in  advance,  with  the 
hope  of  being  soon  able  to  reach  the  riv 
er  Chaudiere,  and  to  send  back,  from  the 
settlement  on  its  banks,  provisions  of 
which  they  stood  greatly  in  need  to  re- 
invigorate  those  left  behind,  and  thus  en 
able  them  to  continue  their  arduous  prog 
ress.  He  accordingly  set  out  with  sixty 
men,  along  a  route  which  was  but  a  repe 
tition  of  the  same  difficulties  and  obstruo- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARNOLD  ARRIVES  AT  SERTIGAN. 


205 


tions  which  he  had  already  experienced. 
The  weather  continued  bad,  the  portages 
did  not  diminish  in  number,  and  the  men 
were  constantly  exposed  to  the  severe 
cold,  and  kept  hard  at  work  dragging 
their  boats  through  the  river  while  up  to 
their  waists  in  the  water,  or  carrying  them 
for  miles  together  over  the  rugged  land, 
past  fall  after  fall. 

On  entering  Lake  Megan  tic,  Arnold 
overtook  the  pioneers  who  had  been  sent 
in  advance  to  cut  away  the  wood  with 
the  hatchet,  and  otherwise  clear  the  way, 
and  was  met  by  one  of  his  messengers, 
who  brought  back  most  favorable  accounts 
of  the  friendly  disposition  of  the  Canadi 
ans  toward  the  expedition.  This  was  en 
couraging  ;  but  what  was  more  particu 
larly  required  now  by  the  half-famished 
men  was,  something  to  satisfy  their  hun 
ger.  So  scarce  had  food  become,  that 

O  ' 

they  were  obliged  to  kill  their  dogs  and 
eat  the  flesh  ;  and  when  this  supply  was 
exhausted,  they  were  reduced  to  the  ne 
cessity  of  making  a  soup  out  of  their 
mooseskin  moccasins  !  Arnold  now  felt 
the  urgent  necessity  of  an  immediate  ef 
fort  for  relief;  and,  accordingly,  landing 
his  main  force  on  the  bank  of  the  lake, 
with  orders  to  move  leisurely  on  by  land, 
he  hastily  equipped  half  a  dozen  boats, 
and,  taking  sixteen  men  with  him,  pushed 
on  up  the  lake.  They  quickly  reached 
the  northern  extremity  of  Lake  Megan- 
tic,  and  entered  the  Chaudiere.  Without 
guides  they  began  the  dangerous  naviga 
tion  of  this  turbulent  stream,  and,  getting 
among  the  rapids,  three  of  the  boats  were 
overturned,  and  six  of  the  men  had  a  hard 
struggle  for  life.  They  were,  however, 


Oct.  30. 


saved  from  drowning,  and  conveyed  to 
the  land,  where,  after  drying  their  clothes, 
they  took  to  their  remaining  boats,  and 
prepared  to  hurry  forward.  At  this  mo 
ment,  one  of  the  party,  having  proceeded 
for  some  distance  in  advance,  cried  out, 
"  A  fall  ahead  !"  And,  sure  enough,  they 
were  just  on  the  verge  of  a  cataract,  and 
barely  had  time  to  save  themselves  from 
being  swept  over,  with  the  result  of  cer 
tain  death  to  every  man  of  them.  They 
were  now  obliged  to  carry  their  boats 
around  this  dangerous  fall ;  and,  starting 
again,  they  finally  succeeded,  without  fur 
ther  accident,  in  reaching  the  French  sei> 
tlement  of  Sertigan,  near  the 
Chaudiere  and  Des  Loups  riv 
ers.  Arnold  found  abundance  of  provis 
ions  here,  and  immediately  sent  back  a 
supply  to  his  famished  troops.  The  re 
lief  proved  timely,  for  they  had  been  re 
duced  almost  to  starvation.  They  were 
found  coming  slowly  and  disconsolately 
along  the  banks  of  the  river,  having  lost 
all  their  boats,  with  most  of  the  baggage, 
in  the  turbulent  waters  of  the  Chaudiere. 
Refreshed  with  abundance  of  food,  they 
hurried  their  march,  and  soon  began,  in 
straggling  detachments,  to  enter  Sertigan, 
where  they  all  finally  arrived  in  a  few 
days. 

Arnold  now,  as  he  was  approaching 
the  Canadian  capital,  was  anxious  that 
Schuyler,  with  whom  he  was  to  co-oper 
ate,  should  be  made  aware  of  his  move 
ments.  He  therefore,  with  an  imprudent 
confidence,intrusted  a  chance  Indian  with 
a  despatch  to  the  American  general,  which 
was  enclosed  in  a  letter  to  one  of  Arnold's 
friends  in  Quebec.  Arnold  was  encour- 


206 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


aged  by  the  reception  which  he  met  with 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  of 
the  Chaudiere.  He  had  followed  the  di 
rections  of  Washington,  who  had  urged 
upon  him  to  treat  the  Canadian  people 
with  great  kindness,  to  avoid  offending 
in  any  respect  their  religious  prejudices, 
and  strictly  to  regard  their  rights  of  prop 
erty.  Arnold  had  been  provided  with 
printed  manifestoes,  setting  forth  the 
cause  of  the  provincials,  and  appealing 
to  the  Canadians  for  active  sympathy. 
These  were  diligently  distributed,  and 
appeared  to  produce  everywhere  a  favor 
able  effect.  After  a  delay  of  a  few  days 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  abounding  hospi 
tality  of  the  generous  and  simple-minded 
French  inhabitants  of  that  sequestered 
valley,  Arnold  moved  on  with  all  his 
force,  and  arrived  at  Point  Levi, 
opposite  to  Quebec,  on  the  13th  of 
November. 

Arnold  was  disappointed,  on  reaching 
the  shore,  to  find  that  there  were  no  boats 
to  take  his  force  across  the  St.  Lawrence. 
The  enemy,  in  fact,  had  learned  the  par 
ticulars  of  his  march  through  the  despatch 
to  Schuyler,  which  had  been  intrusted  to 
the  Indian  messenger,  and  who  had  treach 
erously  delivered  it  up  to  the  British  of 
ficer  in  command  at  Quebec.  The  boats 
were  accordingly  all  withdrawn  to  the 
Quebec  side  of  the  river,  a  frigate  and  a 
sloop-of-war  stationed  in  the  St.  Lawrence 
to  intercept  the  invaders,  and  additional 
troops  from  Sorel  and  Newfoundland  hur 
ried  in  to  reinforce  the  garrison.  Ar 
nold's  impetuosity,  however,  was  not  to  be 
checked ;  and  getting  together,  through 
the  agency  of  the  Indians  and  Canadians 


1775, 


who  had  joined  him,  a  number  of  birchen 
canoes,  he  succeeded,  in  the  course  of  a 
night,  in  setting  all  but  a  hundred  and 
fifty  of  his  men  on  the  Plains  of  Abra 
ham,  having  landed  at  "Wolfe's  cove," 
and  clambered  with  his  men  the  same 
rugged  path  up  which  that  brave  gener 
al  had  led  the  British  troops. 

The  American  commander,  conscious 
of  the  increased  strength  of  the  garrison, 
could  have  had  little  hope  of  a  successful 
assault ;  but,  as  he  had  reason  to  believe 
that  the  inhabitants  of  Quebec  were  dis 
affected  toward  their  rulers  and  favorably 
disposed  toward  his  own  enterprise,  he 
was  determined  to  try  the  temper  of  the 
people.  Arnold  accordingly  inarched  his 
force  close  to  the  walls  of  the  city,  and 
ordered  them  to  send  up  three  loud  huz 
zas,  with  the  hope  that  the  troops  would 
be  provoked  to  make  a  sally,  and  that 
the  gates  being  thus  opened,  the  Cana 
dians  would  take  the  occasion  of  co-oper 
ating  with  him.  He  was,  however,  disap 
pointed  in  the  effects  of  his  bravado,  for 
the  garrison  only  answered  it  by  a  salute 
from  their  guns.  Arnold  next  tried  the 
lieutenant-governor,  with  a  pompous  de 
mand,  in  the  name  of  the  American  Con 
gress,  to  surrender.  This,  of  course,  the 
British  officer,  confident  in  his  superior 
force,  and  the  humble  means  of  his  ene 
my,  contemptuously  disregarded. 

Arnold  was  now  fain  to  depart,  partic 
ularly  as  he  heard  from  some  of  his  old 
friends  in  Quebec  that  the  British  were 
about  coming  out  to  attack  him  with  a 
large  force,  and  knew  that  his  own  troops 
were  so  deficient  in  numbers  and  in  sup 
plies  of  ammunition — for  they  had  but 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MONTGOMERY  IN  MONTREAL. 


207 


five  rounds  of  cartridge  to  a  man — that 
it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  a  resistance. 
He  acordingly  marched  up  the  banks  of 


the  St.  Lawrence,  and  took  post  at  Point 
aux  Trembles,  to  await  the  approach  of 
Montgomery. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Montgomery  enters  Montreal  without  Opposition. — Sir  Guy  Carleton  enclosed  between  two  American  Forces. — Escapes 
in  Disguise,  but  loses  his  Flotilla. — Montgomery  worried  by  the  Disobedience  of  his  Troops. — Many  refuse  to  follow 
Him. — He  marches,  however,  with  a  Few,  and  joins  Arnold. — Montgomery  assumes  the  General  Command,  and 
marches  to  the  Plains  of  Abraham. — Quebec  summoned  to  surrender. — A  Siege. — Vain  Attempts  to  communicate 
with  the  Disaffected  Inhabitants  of  Quebec. — An  Ice-Battery. — An  Assault  determined  upon. — Trouble  among  the 
American  Troops. — The  Assault  begins. — Its  Progress. — Death  of  Montgomery. — Morgan's  Desperate  Struggle,  and 
Final  Capture. — Failure  of  the  Assault. — Arnold  succeeds  to  the  Chief  Command,  and  is  promoted  to  the  Rank  of 
Brigadier-General. — Retires  to  a  Short  Distance  from  Quebec,  and  prepares  to  receive  an  Expected  Attack  from  the 
British. 


1775, 


As  Montgomery  entered  Montre 
al  without  opposition,  on  the  12th 
of  November,  Sir  Guy  Carleton,  the  gov 
ernor  of  Canada,  passed  hurriedly  out 
with  his  officers  and  small  force,  and,  em 
barking  in  a  half-dozen  river-craft,  sailed 
down  the  St.  Lawrence  with  the  view  of 
reaching  Quebec.  The  Americans,  how 
ever,  under  the  command  of  Major  Browrn, 
after  their  success  at  Chambly,  and  the 
defeat  of  the  Highlanders  sent  to  rein 
force  Carleton,  had  taken  possession  of  a 
post  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel,  which 
they  fortified,  so  placing  their  guns  as  to 
command  the  passage  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
between  Montreal  and  Quebec.  Carle- 
ton  attempted  to  pass  this  resistance,  and 
was  driven  back,  with  his  small  flotilla. 
He  now  found  himself  imprisoned  be 
tween  Montgomery  above,  at  Montreal, 
and  the  American  batteries  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Sorel  below,  with  hardly  a  hope 
of  escape. 

Montgomery  was  eager  to  get  hold  of 


Carleton — as  his  capture,  he  believed, 
might  settle  the  fate  of  Canada.  Carle- 
ton  was  equally  anxious  to  save  himself) 
but  was  perplexed  to  discover  the  means, 
and  remained  fixed,,  with  his  vessels  an 
chored  in  the  St.  Lawrence,  with  the  en 
emy  above  and  below.  Montgomery  now 
made  a  move  which  appeared  decisive. 
He  came  down  from  Montreal  with  a 
fleet  of  batteaux,  mounted  with  guns,  de 
termined  to  crowd  Carleton  down  upon 
the  American  battery  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Sorel,  and  so  close  in  upon  him  as  to 
make  sure  of  his  capture.  Carleton,  see 
ing  the  approaching  danger,  gave  up  all 
hope  of  the  safety  of  his  flotilla,  but  re 
solved  upon  making  an  effort  to  secure 
himself  from  capture.  He  accordingly 
disguised  himself  as  a  Canadian  voyageur, 
and  taking  a  boat,  with  six  men  to  pull 
it,  set  off  in  the  midst  of  a  dark  night, 
and  silently  floated  down  the  St.  Law 
rence  with  muffled  oars,  passed  all  the 
dangers  of  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel,  and 


208 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


getting  on  board  a  vessel  below,  reached 
in  safety  the  city  of  Quebec  at  the  very 
moment  Arnold  took  his  departure.  In 
the  meanwhile,  Montgomery  had  reached 
the  British  vessels,  which  at  once  surren 
dered,  with  all  on  board,  among  whom 
was  General  Prescott,  the  former  com 
mander  at  Montreal,  of  whose  rough  treat 
ment  Ethan  Allen  had  reason  to  make  so 
much  complaint. 

Montgomery  had  met  with  great  suc 
cess  in  his  efforts  toward  conciliating  the 
people  of  Montreal.  His  courtesy,  and 
careful  regard  of  their  rights  and  privi 
leges,  proved  to  them  that  he  was  no  mil 
itary  adventurer,  and  they  became  favor 
ably  disposed  toward  a  cause  sustained 
by  a  man  so  peaceful  in  his  bearing  and 
so  just  in  his  conduct.  His  own  troops, 
however,  gave  him  great  trouble,  and  so 
worried  him  by  their  disobedience  and 
importunate  demands  to  be  sent  home, 
that  he  quite  sickened  of  his  command, 
and  wrote  to  Schuyler,  expressing  the 
hope  that  his  health  would  soon  allow  of 
his  resuming  a  position  of  which  he  him 
self  wearied  and  disgusted.  "  I  must  go 
home,"  he  added,  "  if  I  walk  by  the  side 
of  the  lake.  I  am  weary  of  power,  and 
totally  want  that  patience  and  temper  so 
requisite  for  such  a  command." 

Montgomery  had  received  intelligence 
of  the  arrival  of  Arnold  at  Point  aux  Trem 
bles,  and  was  anxious  to  march  with  his 
troops  and  co-operate  with  him  in  an  at 
tack  on  Quebec.  He  was  trying  "  to  pre 
vail  on  the  troops  to  accompany"  him, 
but  was  met  with  all  kinds  of  objections. 
Some  were  too  ill  to  go  j  some  declared 
that  their  time  was  out ;  others  openly 


refused  ;  and  a  few  only  were  disposed  to 
obey  orders,  or  rather  to  yield  to  persua 
sion,  for  in  those  days  the  militia  were 
mostly  inclined  to  enjoy  their  indepen 
dence  before  they  had  won  it.  Mont 
gomery  was,  however,  determined  to  go, 
notwithstanding  the  reluctance  of  most 
of  his  army,  and  accordingly  embarked 
with  some  three  hundred  men,  who  were 
all  that  were  willing  to  follow  him,  and 
sailed  down  to  Point  aux  Trembles,  where 
he  formed  a  junction  with  Arnold,  and 
took  command  of  the  whole  force,  which 
amounted  to  nine  hundred  in  all.  Mont 
gomery  seems  to  have  been  struck  with 
admiration  by  the  soldierly  appearance 
of  Arnold's  troops,  and  by  the  character 
of  their  leader.  "  There  is  a  style  of  dis 
cipline  among  them,"  he  wrote  to  Schuy 
ler,  "  much  superior  to  what  I  have  been 
used  to  see  in  this  campaign.  He  [Ar 
nold]  himself  is  active,  intelligent,  and 
enterprising."  Favorably  impressed  as  he 
was  with  what  he  saw  of  Arnold's  troops 
— who  were  well-disciplined,  had  been  re 
freshed,  and  comfortably  clad  with  a  sup 
ply  of  woollens  from  Montreal — Mont 
gomery  became  sanguine  of  success  in  the 
contemplated  attack  upon  Quebec.  Ar 
nold,  however,  was  less  hopeful,  and  wrote 
to  Washington  that  it  would  require  five 
thousand  men  to  reduce  that  stronghold. 
Montgomery  calculated  upon  the  dis 
affection  of  the  inhabitants  of  Quebec; 
the  miscellaneous  character  of  the  British 
troops,  made  up  of  sailors,  raw  recruits, 
and  a  few  regulars ;  and  the  great  extent 
of  the  fortifications,  which  seemed  to  re 
quire  a  larger  number  for  their  defence 
than  Carleton  possessed.  The  latter,  how- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MONTGOMERY  BEFORE  QUEBEC. 


209 


Dec.  1. 


ever,  though  unpopular  from  the  reserve 
of  his  aristocratic  manners,  was  a  man  full 
of  vigorous  energy  in  an  emergency,  and 
he  accordingly  prepared  to  meet  with 
spirit  the  expected  assault.  To  assure 
loyalty,  he  turned  out  all  suspected  per 
sons  from  official  position,  and  even  sent 
"  trooping  out  of  the  town"  all  those  in 
habitants  who  showed  any  unwillingness 
to  put  forth  their  might  in  its  defence. 
He  had,  by  this  thinning  out,  so  far  di 
minished  his  numbers  within  Quebec,  as 
to  leave  only  fifteen  hundred  men,  near 
ly  double  that  of  the  American  force ;  but 
although  Carleton  was  not  conscious  of 
this  disparity,  he  confidently  awaited  the 
coining  of  his  enemy. 

As  soon  as  the  junction  of  the  Ameri 
can  forces  had  been  formed,  Montgomery 
marched  to  the  Plains  of  Abra 
ham.  Immediately  on  his  arri 
val,  he  attempted  to  send  a  summons  to 
the  British  commander  to  surrender ;  but 
Carleton  would  not  allow  any  flag  to  ap 
proach  the  walls,  and  all  communication 
was  refused.  Montgomery  then  began 
to  play  with  his  artillery  upon  the  town 
and  its  suburbs,  but  with  no  effect  beyond 
the  occasional  burning  of  a  house,  and 
the  killing  of  a  man  or  two.  After  this 
ill  success,  a  ruse  was  tried,  with  the  hope 
of  communicating  with  some  of  the  in 
habitants  supposed  to  be  favorably  dis 
posed  toward  the  American  cause.  A  wo 
man  was  induced  to  carry  letters  into  the 
city,  addressed  to  some  of  the  merchants, 
who  were  promised  every  possible  favor 
in  case  of  co-operation  with  Montgomery. 
With  these  letters  there  was  a  summons 
to  surrender,  with  an  exaggerated  state- 
27 


ment  of  the  American  force,  intended  for 
the  eye  of  Carleton.  This  was  handed 
him ;  but  the  British  commander,  nothing 
daunted,  merely  imprisoned  the  messen 
ger  in  petticoats,  withheld  all  answer  to 
the  communication  of  the  American  gen 
eral,  and  steadily  persevered  in  strength 
ening  his  defences. 

Montgomery,  disappointed  in  not  pro 
ducing,  by  summons  and  letters,  any  im 
pression  upon  Carleton,  or  apparently  up 
on  the  inhabitants  of  Quebec,  now  began 
a  systematic  attack.  Approaching  with 
in  four  hundred  yards  of  the  centre  of 
the  walls,  opposite  to  one  of  the  gates,  he 
commenced  the  construction  of  a  breast 
work.  The  army  had  but  a  poor  supply 
of  intrenching-tools  to  work  with ;  and 
the  ground,  moreover,  was  so  hardened 
by  the  severe  frost,  that  it  was  only  with 
the  greatest  labor  that  pick  or  spade 
could  make  any  impression  upon  it.  A 
snowstorm  had  set  in  as  soon  as  Mont 
gomery  left  Montreal,  and  was  still  in  full 
blast,  so  that  the  men  were  much  incom 
moded  by  the  weather.  The  snow,  how 
ever,  which  now  in  great  depth  covered 
the  ground,  was  turned  to  advantage,  for 
it  was  used  to  fill  in  the  space  behind  the 
trees  and  brushwood  which  formed  the 
frame  of  the  breastwork.  After  being 
well  packed,  and  covered  with  water — 
which  froze  immediately  in  those  cold  De 
cember  days — the  snow  became  a  mass 
of  solid  ice.  Haifa  dozen  small  fieldpieces 
were  here  planted,  and  kept  firing  bombs 
into  the  city,  with  the  hope  of  frighten 
ing  the  inhabitants,  and  inducing  them  to 
force  Carleton  into  submission.  No  such 
result,  however,  ensued ;  and  then  Mont- 


210 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


gomery  tried  the  expedient  of  attaching 
letters  to  arrows,  and  ordering  the  Indi 
ans- to  shoot  them  into  the  town,  that  the 
citizens  might  pick  them  up,  and,  reading 
them,  be  advised  to  insist  upon  a  surren 
der,  which  was  the  purport  of  what  was 
written.  This  also  failed  in  its  effect. 

After  the  "ice-battery"  had  been  for 
live  days  ineffectually  trying  its  artillery 
upon  the  walls,  and  its  powers  of  persua 
sion  upon  the  people  within,  the  general 
took  occasion  one  night  to  pay  a  visit  to 
the  captain  in  command — Lamb  was  his 
name.  Montgomery  had  hardly  arrived, 
when  a  ball  came  plump  from  the  ene 
my's  guns  against  the  walls  of  ice,  shat 
tering  them  like  so  much  glass,  overturn 
ing  the  light  fieldpieces,  and  wounding 
ing  several  of  the  men.  "  This  is  warm 
work,  sir,"  said  the  general  to  Lamb.  "  It 
is,  indeed,  and  certainly  no  place  for  you, 
sir." — "Why  so,  captain?" — "Because 
there  are  enough  of  us  here  to  be  killed, 
without  the  loss  of  you,  which  would  be 
irreparable."*  This  was  the  end  of  the 
brittle  ice-battery ;  for  Montgomery,  see 
ing  its  entire  inefficiency  and  danger,  im 
mediately  ordered  Lamb  and  his  brave 
men  to  abandon  it. 

Three  weeks  had  been  spent  in  these 
vain  attempts  to  influence  the  inhabit 
ants,  when  it  was  finally  decided  to  make 
a  general  assault  upon  the  city.  Mont 
gomery  wras  distrustful  of  his  means  for 
a  successful  attempt ;  but,  as  his  troops 
were  growing  dissatisfied  with  the  long 
delay,  and  discouraged  by-labors  and  suf 
ferings  undergone  without  any  compen 
sating  advantage,  he  felt  it  necessary, 

*  Life  of  John  Lamb,  p.  125,  quoted  by  Irving. 


either  to  strike  a  blow,  or  retire.  He 
could  not  submit  to  the  latter  alterna 
tive,  for  he  knew  that  his  country  expect 
ed  much  of  him,  and  his  own  brave  spirit 
prompted  him  to  deeds  of  daring.  Mont 
gomery  was,  indeed,  conscious  that  his 
men  were  hardly  in  a  condition  to  under 
take  so  hazardous  an  enterprise  ;  for  they 
had  suffered  (ill  clothed  and  ill  provided 
as  they  were  with  food)  from  the  severity 
of  the  weather,  and  they  not  only  mur 
mured  loudly,  but  even  refused  to  obey 
orders.  The  commander,  however,  hoped 
that  their  martial  ardor,  warming  with 
the  prospect  of  action,  would  melt  away 
disaffection,  and  soon  reunite  the  hearts 
of  all  in  common  sympathy. 

The  plan  of  operations  being  settled, 
the  various  divisions  of  the  troops  were 
ordered  to  be  drawn  up,  to  prepare  for 
their  separate  duties.  At  this  moment 
word  was  brought  to  the  general  that 
three  companies  of  Arnold's  detachment 
refused  obedience,  declaring  that  they 
would  no  longer  serve,  unless  placed  un 
der  a  different  command.  Montgomery 

CJ  »/ 

might  well  be  discouraged  by  such  an  oc 
currence  at  such  a  moment ;  but  he  mas 
tered  his  feelings,  and  promptly  present 
ing  himself  to  the  disorderly  troops,  suc 
ceeded  by  his  firmness  in  bringing  them 
back  to  their  duty. 

The  whole  force  was  now  mustered, 
and  it  was  found  that  disease — for  the 
small-pox  had  broken  out  among  them  — 
and  desertion  had  reduced  the  troops  to 
the  small  number  of  seven  hundred  and 
fifty.  These  were  then  detailed  for  duty. 
One  division,  under  Montgomery,  was  to 
descend  the  cliffs,  and,  proceeding  along 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ASSAULT  OF  QUEBEC. 


211 


the  river  around  Cape  Diamond,  attack 
the  town  in  that  quarter ;  another,  under 
Arnold,  was  to  advance  on  the  other  side 
by  the  suburb  of  St.  Roque,  and  the  two 
were  to  fight  their  way  from  these  oppo 
site  directions  until  they  met.  The  third 
division,  under  Brown  and  Livingston, 
was  to  advance  from  the  Plains  of  Abra 
ham,  set  fire  to  St.  John's  gate,  and  make 
a  show  of  assault  against  the  walls  of  the 
fortress  on  the  heights,  in  order  to  divert 
the  enemy  from  the  movements  of  the 
main  body  below.  It  was  arranged  that 
these  various  attacks  should  be  simulta 
neous,  on  the  letting  off  of  some  signal- 
rockets. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in 


Dec.  31. 


the  midst  of  a  heavy  snowstorm, 
when  the  movement  began.  Mont 
gomery  led  his  men  down  the  rugged 
path  to  Wolfe's  cove  below,  and  along 
the  shore  of  the  river,  without  opposition, 
until  he  reached  a  narrow  point  below 
the  slate-crags  of  Cape  Diamond.  Here 
he  found  a  fence  of  pickets,  which  the 
carpenters  soon  cut  away  with  their  saws, 
the  general  helping  to  pull  them  down 
with  his  own  hands.  Montgomery  was 
the  first  to  enter,  followed  by  his  aid-de 
camp.  The  men  hesitated  and  lingered. 
About  fifty  yards  before  them,  with  the 
river  on  one  side  and  a  precipitous  rock  on 
the  other,  stood  a  blockhouse  or  redoubt, 
strongly  fortified,  mounted  with  some 
heavy  guns,  and  garrisoned  with  fifty  of 
the  enemy.  Montgomery  fancied  his  ap 
proach  was  unperceived,  and  confidently 
advanced  along  the  narrow  and  irregular 
path,  doubly  insecure  from  the  accumu 
lated  ice,  urging  his  New- York  regiment  j 


to  follow,  saying :  "  Men  of  New  York, 
you  will  not  fear  to  follow  where  your 
general  leads  !  Push  on,  brave  boys,  and 
Quebec  is  ours!"  Montgomery,  with 
sword  in  hand,  then  hurried  in  advance, 
and  had  hardly  made  a  dash  at  the  re 
doubt,  when  a  sudden  light  flashed  upon 
the  darkness,  and  a  volley  of  cannon-shot 
swept  the  American  column,  killing  the 
general,  his  two  aids,  and  many  of  the 
rank  and  file,  at  the  first  discharge.  The 
rest  of  the  men  were  driven  back  in  con 
fusion  to  Wolfe's  cove,  where  they  were 
rallied  by  Colonel  Campbell,  who,  how 
ever,  did  not  attempt  to  bring  them  up 
again  to  the  attack. 

The  signal-rockets  had  been  by  some 
accident  let  off  too  soon,  and  the  diver 
sion  which  was  to  have  been  made  by 
the  division  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham 
had  failed  :  so  the  enemy  within  the  city 
was  on  the  alert,  prepared  to  receive  Ar 
nold  and  his  detachment,  in  their  attack 
through  the  suburb  of  St.  Roque.  Arnold, 
at  the  head  of  an  advanced  guard  of  a  lieu 
tenant  and  thirty  men,  led  the  van ;  next 
went  the  artillery-company,  under  Cap 
tain  Lamb,  with  a  single  fieldpiece  on  a 
sledge ;  Morgan  and  his  riflemen,  together 
with  a  company  in  charge  of  scaling-lad 
ders,  brought  up  the  rear.  They  proceed 
along  the  bank  of  the  St.  Charles,  floun 
dering  in  the  depths  of  the  drifted  snow, 
and  go  groping  in  the  dark  into  the  low 
er  town.  Here,  with  the  narrow,  irregu 
lar  streets,  the  crowded  houses,  the  stores, 
boats,  and  wharves,  all  seems  inextrica 
ble  confusion;  but  Arnold  continues  to 
lead  on  his  advance-guard  in  single  file 
each  man  making  his  way  as  best  he  can 


212 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


after  him.  He  now  comes  upon  a  two- 
gun  battery  stretched  across  the  street, 
and  halts  momentarily  for  his  fieldpiece ; 
but,  finding  that  it  can  not  be  dragged  up 
through  the  deep  snowdrifts,  Arnold  be 
gins  the  attack:  he  is, however, so  severely 
wounded  in  the  knee  on  the  first  advance, 
that  he  has  to  be  carried  back  to  the  rear, 
and  is  obliged  to  leave  the  assault  to  Mor 
gan,  the  next  in  command,  who  hurries 
up  with  his  riflemen,  and  after  a  severe 
struggle,  which  lasts  nearly  an  hour,  car 
ries  the  battery.  The  enemy,  although 
they  fired  their  muskets  briskly,  and  even 
a  discharge  of  grapeshot,  did  but  little 
mischief  beyond  wounding  Arnold  and 
killing  one  man.  Morgan  was  so  rapid 
in  his  approach,  and  came  so  close  to  the 
battery,  that  his  riflemen  were  enabled  to 
shoot  through  the  embrasures  and  drive 
the  men  from  their  guns ;  and  thus  give 
free  scope  for  the  use  of  the  scaling-lad 
ders,  which  were  at  once  planted  against 
the  pickets.  The  Americans  now  clam 
bered  over  and  took  the  captain  and  his 
thirty  men  captive. 

Pushing  on  immediately  along  the 
street,  Morgan  finds  himself  obstructed 
by  another  and  more  formidable  battery. 
The  citizens,  too,  are  now  everywhere  on 
the  alert,  and  keep  firing  from  their  win 
dows  upon  the  Americans,  who,  though 
sorely  galled,  continue  to  advance.  Mor 
gan  leads  his  men  as  before  right  up  to 
the  barrier,  which,  strongly  fortified  with 
pickets,  and  planted  with  heavy  guns, 
stretched  from  the  precipice  which  over 
hangs  the  lower  town  down  to  the  river. 
The  riflemen,  getting  close  under  the  en 
emy's  cannon,  fire  away,  aiming  through 


the  embrasures,  and  succeed  in  making 
room  for  the  ladders.  The  men,  howev 
er,  are  driven  back  with  their  scaling- 
implements ;  they  are  planted  again  and 
again,  but  without  success.  The  Amer 
icans,  with  a  fire  now  concentrated  upon 
them  from  every  point  of  the  city  forti 
fications,  are  obliged  to  withdraw,  and 
protect  themselves  in  the  narrow  alleys 
and  the  neighboring  houses,  where  they 
continue,  however,  to  keep  up  a  brave 
struggle  against  the  enemy.  Rallying 
again  for  another  attack  upon  the  battery, 
they  finally  succeed  in  carrying  it,  but  not 
without  a  severe  loss  of  life.  Lamb,  the 
captain  of  the  artillery,  was  struck  at  the 
last  moment  by  a  grapeshot,  which  tore 
away  a  part  of  his  jawbone.  As  the  gun 
ners  were  about  retreating  from  the  bar 
rier,  one  of  them  determined  to  have  one 
more  shot,  when  Lamb,  observing  his 
purpose,  levelled  a  musket  at  the  fellow, 
but  missed  his  fire,  and  received  in  full 
face  the  discharge  of  grape  which  so  ter 
ribly  mutilated  him. 

The  battery  taken,  Morgan  and  his  men 
prepared  for  a  rush  into  the  town ;  and 
they  issued  out  for  the  purpose,  but  were 
forced  by  overwhelming  numbers  to  take 
refuge  in  a  stone  building,  whence  they 
kept  up  a  severe  fire  upon  the  enemy 
thronging  the  street  below.  Morgan  now 
heard  of  the  death  of  Montgomery,  and 
that  a  large  detachment  from  the  garri 
son  had  come  down,  and,  suddenly  burst 
ing  through  the  gates  upon  the  American 
rearguard  under  Cap  tain  Dearborn,  forced 
it  to  surrender.  He  was  thus  so  com 
pletely  hemmed  in,  and  cut  off  from  all 
reinforcement,  that  he  offered  no  further 


THE  AMERICAN  LOSS. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 

resistance,  and  yielded  himself  up  with 
his  men  to  the  enemy. 

Arnold  now  resumed  the  command, 
and  determined,  in  spite  of  the  severity 
of  a  Canadian  winter,  and  the  mere  hand 
ful  of  troops  left  him,  to  blockade  the  city, 
and  await  reinforcements.  He  was  en 
couraged  in  this  resolution  by  the  appa 
rent  distrust  in  which  Caiieton,  the  Brit 
ish  commander,  seemed  to  hold  his  own 
strength ;  for,  after  his  success  within  the 
town,  he  did  not  even  attempt  to  pursue 
the  remnant  of  Americans  beyond  the 
walls.  Arnold,  however,  anticipating  a 
pursuit,  had  withdrawn  his  men  to  a  dis 
tance  of  three  miles  from  Quebec,  and 
there,  hastily  fortifying  himself,  awaited 
an  expected  attack. 

The  loss  of  the  Americans  in  this  un 
successful  attack  was  heavy,  being  about 
one  hundred  and  sixty  killed  and  wound 
ed,  while  that  of  the  enemy  amounted  to 
only  twenty.  The  patriots  mourned,  in 
the  death  of  Montgomery,  one  of  the 
bravest  and  purest  of  the  defenders  of 
their  cause.  The  enemy  respected  his 
character;  and  Carleton  eulogized  his 
worth,  and  reverently  ordered  his  remains 


213 


to  be  buried  with  military  honors  in  a  sol 
dier's  grave.  M'Pherson  and  Cheesman, 
his  two  aids-de-camp,  who  had  fallen  with 
their  commander,  were  men  of  spirit, 
whose  loss  was  grieved,  as  is  always  that 
of  the  young  and  the  brave.  Cheesman 
is  supposed  to  have  had  a  presentiment 
of  approaching  death,  and  on  the  day  of 
the  fatal  struggle  had  dressed  himself 
with  even  more  than  the  usual  care  of  the 
youthful  officer.  As  he  prepared  to  go 
out,  he  thrust  some  gold  pieces  into  his 
pocket,  saying  laughingly,  "  This  will  in 
sure  me  a  decent  burial." 

The  continental  Congress  rewarded  Ar 
nold  for  his  persevering  courage  and  skill 
while  leading  his  troops  through  the  wil 
derness,  and  his  gallantry  at  Quebec,  by 
promoting  him  to  the  rank  of  a  brigadier- 
general.  The  other  officers  proved  their 
merit  by  their  conduct  during  that  night's 
struggle  at  Quebec ;  and  there  was  hard 
ly  one  whose  name  we  shall  not  afterward 
find  memorable  in  the  subsequent  history 
of  the  battles  of  the  Revolution.  They 
need  no  tribute  but  the  record  of  their 
names:  Morgan, Dearborn, Meigs, Greene, 
Lamb,  Oswald,  Thayer,  and  Potsfield. 


214 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  11. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Inactivity  of  the  American  Camp  at  Cambridge. — Washington's  Anxieties. — Gage  summoned  to  England. — Succeeded 
in  Command  by  Howe. — Howe's  Plans  for  Incursions  on  the  Coasts. — The  Burning  of  Falmouth. — American  Priva 
teers. — Howe  increases  his  Fortifications. — Churches  turned  into  Barracks  and  Stables. — Harsh  Proceedings  of  Howe 
against  the  Patriots. — Retaliation. — A  Committee  of  Congress  visits  the  American  Camp. — Benjamin  Franklin. — 
An  Attack  upon  Boston  considered  in  Council. — Franklin  takes  Occasion  to  collect  a  Debt. — Treason  in  the  American 
Camp. — Washington  laughs. — Doctor  Church's  Trial. — His  Condemnation  and  Subsequent  Fate. — A  Small  Ameri 
can  Fleet  fitted  out. — The  Various  Fortunes  of  the  Vessels. — Sickness  in  the  American  Camp. — A  Visit  from  some 
Indian  Gentlemen. — Comparison  with  some  of  the  New-England  Gentry. 


1775, 


WASHINGTON,  in  the  movement 
against  Canada,  in  which  he  took 
a  great  interest,  found  some  relief  for  his 
forced  inactivity  at  Cambridge.  Here, 
however,  in  his  camp,  although  desirous 
by  "  some  decisive  stroke"  to  drive  the 
enemy  from  Boston,  he  could  do  nothing, 
as  the  condition  of  his  troops  was  such 
as  not  to  justify  any  offensive  operations. 
Still,  he  had  been  so  importuned  to  ac 
tivity,  that  he  determined  to  call  a  coun 
cil  of  war,  and  consult  upon  the  expedi 
ency  of  making  an  immediate  attack  on 
Boston.  It  was,  however,  unanimously 
agreed  "  that  it  was  not  expedient  to 
make  the  attempt  at  present."  The  state 
of  the  army  was  certainly  not  very  en 
couraging.  The  time  of  service  of  many 
of  the  troops  would  soon  expire,  and  they 
already  anticipated  their  liberty  by  a  free 
indulgence  in  their  own  caprices,  and  a 
general  disobedience  of  orders.  "  My  sit 
uation,"  wrote  Washington,  "  is  inexpres 
sibly  distressing ;  to  see  the  win 
ter  fast  approaching  upon  a  na 
ked  army,  the  time  of  their  service  within 
a  few  weeks  of  expiring,  and  no  provis 
ion  yet  made  for  such  important  wants. 
Added  to  these,  the  military  chest  is  to- 


Sept,  21, 


tally  exhausted ;  the  paymaster  has  not 
a  single  dollar  in  hand.  The  commissary- 
general  assures  me  he  has  strained  his 
credit  for  the  subsistence  of  the  army  to 
the  utmost.  The  quartermaster-general 
is  precisely  in  the  same  situation ;  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  troops  are  in  a 
state  riot  far  from  mutiny,  upon  the  de 
duction  from  their  stated  allowance." 

Nor  were  these  the  only  troubles  against 
which  Washington  had  to  contend.  All 
New  England  was  disaffected  toward  him, 
because  he  refused  to  send  out  detach 
ments  from  his  army  to  protect  the  towns 
along  the  coast  from  the  marauding  par 
ties  of  the  enemy.  "  I  would  like  to  ex 
tend  protection  to  all,"  he  said,  "  but  the 
numerous  detachments  necessary  to  rem 
edy  the  evil  would  amount  to  a  dissolu 
tion  of  the  army,  or  make  the  most  im 
portant  operations  of  the  campaign  de 
pend  upon  the  piratical  expeditions  of 
two  or  three  men-of-war  and  transports." 
The  British,  in  the  meantime,  with  their 
small  cruisers,  were  doing  a  good  deal  of 
mischief  by  sailing  into  the  harbors  and 
helping  themselves  to  supplies,  of  which 
they  stood  greatly  in  need.  The  local 
militia,  however,  soon  became  watchful, 


ftF.VOLUTIOXARY.] 


BURNING  OF  FALMOUTH. 


215 


and  so  well  able  to  defend  themselves, 
that  the  enemy  were  often  disappointed, 
and  seldom  succeeded  in  their  object  with 
out  a  hard  and  bloody  struggle. 

The  British  troops  in  Boston  were  not 
more  actively  occupied  than  the  besieg 
ers  without.  A  change,  however,  in  the 
chief  command  was  an  event  which  ex 
cited  no  little  interest.  Governor  Gage 
was  recalled,  and  sailed  for  England  on 
the  10th  of  October,  leaving  Gen 
eral  Howe  as  his  successor.  Howe 
was  in  favor  (as  Gage  had  been)  of  an 
evacuation  of  Boston,  and  in  his  despatch 
es  to  the  government  advised  large  rein 
forcements,  and  a  transfer  of  military  op 
erations  to  New  York.  In  the  meantime, 
he  prepared  to  "  distress  the  rebels  by  in 
cursions  along  the  coast."  With  this  view, 
one  of  his  first  acts  was,  to  send  out  a 
small  armed  squadron,  under  a  Lieuten 
ant  Mo  watt,  against  Falmouth  (now  Port 
land),  the  authorities  of  which  had  given 
great  offence  by  preventing  the  sailing 
of  a  ship  loaded  with  some  tories  and 
their  property.  Mowatt  appeared  before 
the  town  in  the  night,  and,  sending  word 
to  the  inhabitants  that  he  would  allow 
them  two  hours  to  remove  themselves, 
determined  to  burn  it.  A  committee  of 
citizens  was  immediately  appointed  to 
confer  with  the  lieutenant,  who  told  them, 
on  their  arrival  on  board  his  ship,  that 
his  orders  were  to  fire  every  town  on 
the  coast  between  Boston  and  Halifax, 
and  that  he  had  no  alternative  but  obe 
dience. 

A  respite  was,  however,  at  the  earnest 
solicitation  of  the  citizens,  granted  until 
the  next  morning,  when  the  committee 


again  made  their  appearance,  and  prayed 
that  their  town  might  be  spared.  Mow 
att  offered  to  do  so,  provided  they  would 
send  him  off  four  carriage-guns,  deliver 
up  all  their  arms  and  ammunition,  and  four 
prominent  citizens  as  hostages.  These 
conditions  were,  however,  considered  too 
dishonorable  to  comply  with.  The  com 
mittee  then  returned  on  shore,  and  the 
lieutenant  hoisted  his  signal  for  the  at- 
tack  to  commence.  The  squadron  now 
began  to  throw  its  bombs  into  the  town, 
and  the  firing  continued  until  the  close 
of  the  day,  when  most  of  the  houses  were 
destroyed.  The  burning  of  Falmouth 
spread  an  alarm  all  over  the  New-Eng 
land  coast,  but  produced  no  disposition 
to  submit  to  British  arms.  The  indigna 
tion  it  excited,  in  fact,  only  served  to  give 
greater  intensity  to  the  resistance  of  the 
patriots.  "  Oh,"  wrote  General  Greene, 
"  could  the  Congress  behold  the  distres 
ses  and  wretched  condition  of  the  poor  in 
habitants  driven  from  the  seaport  towns, 
it  would  kindle  a  blaze  of  indignation 
against  the  commissioned  pirates  and  li 
censed  robbers  —  People,"  he  adds,  "  be 
gin  heartily  to  wish  a  declaration  of  in 
dependence." 

Howe,  in  his  despatch  to  the  govern 
ment,  "  hoped  Portsmouth,  in  New  Hamp 
shire,  would  feel  the  weight  of  his  majes 
ty's  arms;"  and  the  inhabitants  of  that 
place,  as  well  as  of  Newport,  in  Rhode 
Island,  were  in  daily  expectation  of  being 
served  as  had  been  the  people  of  Falmouth. 
The  patriots  now  began,  under  an  act  of 
the  general  court  of  Massachusetts,  to  fit 
out  privateers  for  the  defence  of  the  sea- 
coast,  and  were  soon  able  to  take  revenge 


216 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


upon  the  British  cruisers  for  their  cruel 
devastations. 

Although  Howe  had  resolved  upon 
keeping  quiet  at  present  within  Boston, 
he  took  care  to  find  wrork  for  his  men. 
He  strengthened  his  fortifications  on  Bun 
ker's  and  Breed's  hills,  where  General 
Clinton  had  now  the  command,  and  add 
ed  to  those  on  Charlestown  neck,  where 
he  set  six  hundred  men  to  labor.  Within 
the  city,  houses  were  pulled  down  to  clear 
space  for  the  exercise  of  the  troops ;  re 
doubts  were  built  on  the  common ;  and 
the  meetinghouse  "where  sedition  had 
been  often  preached"  was  made  K  a  riding- 
house  for  the  light  dragoons." 

Howre  did  not  confine  himself  to  in 
sulting  those  of  the  patriots  still  left  in 
Boston,  but  persecuted  them  with  all  the 
rigor  of  martial  law.  In  his  proclama 
tions  he  spoke  of  some  who  had  escaped 
to  Cambridge  as  those  who  had  "lately 
absconded  to  join  his  majesty's  enemies, 
assembled  in  open  rebellion,"  and  declared 
his  determination  to  punish  with  "  mili 
tary  execution"  any  who  should  attempt 
to  follow  their  example.  Those  who  suc 
ceeded  he  pronounced  traitors,  who  were 
to  be  treated  accordingly  by  a  "  seizure 
of  their  goods  and  effects."  These  harsh 
proceedings  led  to  retaliation  on  the  part 
of  the  patriots ;  and,  by  a  general  order 
from  Washington,  those  officers  of  gov 
ernment  known  to  be  devoted  to  the 
throne  were  seized  and  imprisoned. 

Congress  having  appointed  a  commit 
tee  to  visit  the  camp  at  Cambridge,  and 
confer  with  Washington  and  the  various 
delegates  from  the  provinces  of  New  Eng 
land  in  regard  to  the  reorganization  of 


Oct.  15, 


the  army,  the  three  gentlemen 
who  composed  it  now  arrived. 
These  were,  Benjamin  Franklin,  of  Penn 
sylvania  ;  Thomas  Lynch,  of  South  Caro 
lina  ;  and  Colonel  Benjamin  Harrison,  of 
Virginia.  Franklin  was  regarded  by  all 
as  an  example  of  prudence  and  an  oracle 
of  wisdom.  "  I  had  the  honor,"  says  Gen 
eral  Greene,  of  Ehocle  Island,  "  to  be  in 
troduced  to  that  very  great  man  Doctor 
Franklin,  whom  I  viewed  with  silent  ad 
miration  during  the  whole  evening,"  and 
adds,  in  his  enthusiastic  rhetoric,  "  Atten 
tion  watched  his  lips  and  conviction  closed 
his  periods."  The  conference  committee 
immediately  began  their  sessions,  with 
Washington  as  president,  and  Joseph 
Reed  as  secretary.  The  first  question 
was,  the  new  organization  of  the  army ; 
and  the  satisfactory  result  was,  the  adop 
tion  of  a  plan  for  the  enlistment,  for  one 
year,  of  twenty-six  regiments,  of  eight 
companies  each,  besides  riflemen  and  ar 
tillery,  based  upon  the  respective  capaci 
ties  of  the  colonies  as  stated  by  the  dele 
gates.  This  would  give  an  effective  force 
of  twenty-two  thousand,  two  hundred  and 
seventy-two  men  and  officers,  whom  it  was 
proposed,  as  far  as  possible,  to  recruit  from 
those  already  in  service,  that  the  army 
might  not  be  altogether  composed  of  un 
disciplined  and  inexperienced  troops. 

The  subject  of  the  inactivity  of  the 
present  army  now  came  up,  and  the  pro 
priety  of  an  immediate  attack  on  Boston 
was  discussed.  Washington  formally  put 
the  question  as  to  whether  he  should  at 
tack  the  British,  at  the  expense  of  the 
destruction  of  the  city.  The  delegates 
preferred  that  so  important  a  matter 


REVOLUTIOXARY.J 


COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 


217 


should  be  left  to  the  decision  of  Congress. 
A  council  of  his  officers  had  been  previ 
ously  held,  at  which  Washington  declared 
he  had  summoned  them  in  consequence 
of  having  learned  that  Congress  desired 
an  attack  upon  Boston,  if  practicable. 
Their  opinions  are  best  given  in  their 
own  words :  — 

GENERAL  GATES. — "  That  under  present 
circumstances  it  is  improper  to  attempt 
it." 

GENERAL  GREENE. — "  That  it  is  not  prac 
ticable,  under  all  circumstances ;  but,  if 
ten  thousand  men  could  be  landed  at  Bos 
ton,  thinks  it  is." 

GENERAL  SULLIVAN. — "  That  at  this  time 
it  is  improper.  The  winter  gives  a  more 
favorable  opportunity." 

GENERAL  HEATH.  —  "  Impracticable  at 
present." 

GENERAL  THOMAS. — "  Of  the  same  opin 
ion." 

GENERAL  PUTNAM. — "Disapproves  of  it 
at  present." 

GENERAL  LEE. — "  Is  not  sufficiently  ac 
quainted  witli  the  men,  to  judge  ;  there 
fore  thinks  it  too  great  a  risk." 

GENERAL  WARD. — "Against  it." 

Such  were  the  opinions  of  the  gener 
als,  with  whom  Washington  also  agreed ; 
but  the  delegates,  although  hesitating  to 
decide  upon  the  question,  were  for  the 
most  part  in  favor  of  an  attack.  Doctor 
Belknap  dined  with  a  party  of  general 
officers  and  gentlemen  belonging  to  the 
various  committees,  when  the  absorbing 
topic  naturally  became  the  subject  of 
after-dinner  conversation.  The  doctor 
tells  us  that  Lynch,  Harrison,  and  Wales, 
wished  to  see  Boston  in  flames.  Lee  told 
28 


them  it  was  impossible  to  burn  it  unless 
they  sent  men  in  with  bundles  of  straw 
on  their  backs  to  do  it.  He  said  it  could 
not  be  done  with  carcass  and  hot  shot; 
and  instanced  the  Isle  Royal,  in  St.  Law 
rence  river,  "which  was  fired  at  in  1760 
a  long  time,  with  a  fine  train  of  artillery, 
hot  shot,  and  carcasses,  without  effect." 

The  delegates  now  returned  home. 
Their  presence  had  given  increased  en 
couragement  to  the  patriots  in  arms. 
Franklin's  devotion  to  the  public  inter 
ests  was  especially  appreciated,  as  his 
comprehensive  policy  and  systematic  bu 
siness-habits  enabled  him  to  suggest  plans 
that  were  not  only  grand,  but  feasible. 
He  had  an  opportunity,  moreover,  of  at 
tending  to  a  little  private  business,  and 
succeeded  in  obtaining  from  the  Massa 
chusetts  general  court  the  sum  of  eigh 
teen  hundred  and  fifty-four  pounds  ster 
ling,  as  payment  in  full  of  his  services 
while  acting  as  agent  in  England  for  the 
colony.  "  The  doctor  might,"  says  a  con 
temporary,  "have  liked  specie, at  the  time 
such  grants  were  made,  better  than  the 
present  paper-money;  but  his  foresight 
will  undoubtedly  transform  the  latter  into 
some  solid  substance  !"  Franklin,  how 
ever,  had  to  make,  from  the  handsome 
sum  which  he  was  paid,  a  deduction  of 
one  hundred  pounds  in  favor  of  a  com 
mittee  "appointed  to  wait  upon  him  with 
in  a  day  or  two,  being  the  amount  of  a 
sum  sent  by  several  persons  in  England, 
for  the  relief  of  those  Americans  who  were 
wounded  in  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and 
of  the  widows  and  children  of  those  who 
were  there  slain." 

The  greatest  consternation  was  created 


218 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


in  the  camp  at  Cambridge,  by  the  sup 
posed  discovery  of  a  treasonable 
Oct.  15,  f     ,  .,, 

correspondence  01  a  hitherto  un 
suspected  patriot  with  the  enemy.  Early 
in  July,  a  woman  presented  herself  at 
Newport,  to  a  Mr.  Wainwood,  with  a  let 
ter,  which  she  wished  him  to  aid  her  in 
conveying  to  Captain  Wallace,  the  British 
officer  in  command  of  the  man-of-war  off 
the  harbor.  Wainwood,  who  was  a  patri 
ot,  was  suspicious  of  any  correspondence 
with  the  enemy;  but,  concealing  his 
thoughts,  he  prevailed  upon  the  woman 
to  leave  the  letter  with  him.  She  was 
induced  to  do  so,  and  Wainwood  imme 
diately  advised  with  a  friend,  upon  whose 
recommendation  the  letter  was  broken 
open,  and  found  to  be  written  in  charac 
ters  entirely  unintelligible.  Thus  the 
matter  remained  until  Wainwood,  having 
received  a  note  from  the  woman,  inqui 
ring  about  the  disposition  of  the  letter, 
had  his  suspicions  reawakened,  and  it  was 
then  determined  to  send  it  to  Washing 
ton. 

The  woman,  on  again  presenting  her 
self  in  the  camp,  was  arrested.  "  Tradi 
tion,"  says  Irving,  "gives  us  a  graphic 
scene  connected  with  her  arrest.  Wash 
ington  was  in  his  chamber  at  headquar 
ters,  when  he  beheld  from  his  window 
General  Putnam  approaching  on  horse 
back,  with  a  stout  woman  en  croupe  be 
hind  him.  He  had  pounced  upon  the 
culprit.  The  group  presented  by  the  old 
general  and  his  prize,  overpowered  even 
Washington's  gravity.  It  was  the  only 
occasion  throughout  the  whole  campaign 
on  ^hicli  he  was  known  to  laugh  hearti 
ly.  He  had  recovered  his  gravity  by  the 


time  the  delinquent  was  brought  to  the 
foot  of  the  broad  staircase  in  headquar 
ters,  and  assured  her,  in  a  severe  tone 
from  the  head  of  it,  that  unless  she  con 
fessed  everything  before  the  next  morn 
ing,  a  halter  would  be  in  readiness  for 
her." 

The  woman  for  a  long  time  resisted 
every  attempt  to  extort  the  truth  from 
her;  but  finally  she  confessed  that  the 
letter  had  been  given  to  her  by  Doctor 
Church,  of  whom,  in  fact,  she  was  said  to 
be  the  "  kept  mistress."  Church  was  a 
prominent  man  among  the  patriots,  being 
a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  house  of 
representatives,  and  surgeon-general  of 
the  army-hospitals.  On  being  arrested, 
and  confronted  with  the  charge  of  trea 
sonable  correspondence  with  the  enemy, 
he  was  greatly  agitated,  and  showed  ev 
ery  mark  of  guilt.  The  letter  having 
been  successfully  deciphered,  and  found 
to  contain  little  beyond  an  exaggerated 
account  of  the  American  force,  the  doc 
tor  wrote  to  Washington  a  vindication  of 
himself,  stating  that  his  object  was  mere 
ly  to  use  his  efforts  in  bringing  about  an 
accommodation  of  the  dispute  with  the 
mother-country,  and  that  he  was  entirely 
innocent  of  any  traitorous  design.  He 
was  now  brought  before  a  coun 
cil  of  war,  which,  unable  to  sat 
isfy  itself  of  his  innocence,  unanimously 
decided  upon  referring  the  matter  to  the 
Congress. 

The  legislature  of  Massachusetts  then 
"summoned  Church  before  the  bar  of  the 
house,  and  the  doctor  made  a  long  speech 
in  his  defence.  He  endeavored  to  evade 
the  censure  of  the  house,  by  insisting  that 


Get,  23, 


Rl-.VOLUTIONATCY.J 


THE  PROVINCIAL  FLEET. 


219 


Oct.  27, 


as  the  affair  would  be  before  an 


other  court,  where  the  matter 
must  have  a  final  issue,  should  the  house 
proceed  to  expel  him,  it  would  have  a 
fatal  effect  whenever  a  final  judgment 
was  to  be  given  on  his  conduct.  He 
made  the  most  solemn  appeal  to  Heaven 
that  the  letter  was  written  with  the  de 
sign  of  procuring  some  important  intelli 
gence.  He  observed  that  there  was  not 

o 

a  single  paragraph  in  it  which  contained 
information  that  could  hurt  the  Ameri 
cans  ;  and  that  the  exaggerated  accounts 
of  their  force,  strength,  and  unanimity, 
tended  to  dishearten  the  enemy  and  keep 
them  quiet,  a,t  a  time  when  the  Ameri 
cans,  for  want  of  powder,  were  poorly 
able  to  have  withstood  a  vigorous  attack. 
"  If  the  force  of  rhetoric  and  the  powers 
of  language,"  says  a  contemporary,  "if 
the  most  pathetic  arts  of  persuasion,  en 
forced  by  all  the  ingenuity,  sense,  and 
spirit  of  the  doctor,  could  have  made  him 
innocent,  he  would  have  appeared  spot 
less  as  an  angel  of  light."  The  house, 
however,wras  not  convinced,  and  expelled 
him.  Congress  inflicted  the  punishment, 
resolving  "  that  he  be  close  confined  in 
some  secure  jail  in  Connecticut,  without 
the  use  of  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  and  that 
no  person  be  allowed  to  converse  with 
him,  except  in  the  presence  and  hearing 
of  a  magistrate  or  the  sheriff  of  the  coun 
ty."  The  doctor  was  accordingly  clapped 
into  the  jail  at  Norwich,  whence  he  was 
subsequently  released,  on  the  plea  of  ill 
health,  and  removed  to  Boston,  where  his 
personal  liberty  was  given  him  on  his 
parole,  backed  by  a  surety  of  one  thou 
sand  pounds,  that  he  would  hold  no  cor 


respondence  with  the  enemy,  or  leave 
the  colony  without  permission.  He  was 
eventually  allowed  to  depart  for  the  West 
Indies,  but  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed 
was  never  heard  of  afterward. 

The  legislative  assemblies  of  the  vari 
ous  New-England  provinces  had  author 
ized  at  an  early  period  the  fitting  out  of 
small  armed  vessels;  and  several  wrere 
now  in  commission,  doing  effective  ser 
vice  in  protecting  the  coasts  against  the 
British  cruisers.  Washington,  having  re 
ceived  instructions  from  Congress  to  en 
deavor  to  capture  the  transports  laden 
with  supplies  for  the  army  at  Boston,  and 
especially  "  two  north  country  built  ships 
with  military  stores,"  began  to  fit  out  a 
small  fleet,  and  succeeded  toward  the  end 
of  October  in  having  six  schooners  in  com 
mission.  These  were  the  Lynch,  Captain 
Broughton,  and  the  Franklin,  Captain 
Sellman,  which  were  ordered  to  the  St. 
Lawrence ;  the  Lee,  Captain  Manly,  the 
Warren,  Captain  Adams,  the  Washington, 
Captain  Martindale,  and  the  Harrison, 
Captain  Coit,  sent  to  cruise  about  the 
coast.  Washington  felt  a  great  interest  in 
this  humble  naval  movement  as  a  means 
of  obtaining  supplies,  for  he  writes,  "  I  am 
in  very  great  want  of  powder,  lead,  mor 
tars — indeed,  of  most  sorts  of  military 
stores."  Efforts  had  been  made,  and  not 
without  success,  to  supply  the  army  with 
ammunition,  but  still  the  quantity  fell 
short  of  what  would  be  needed  in  a  pro 
tracted  campaign.  The  manufacture  oi 
saltpetre  had  been  commenced  in  every 
colony,  and  powder-mills  had  been  erect 
ed  at  Philadelphia  and  New  York.  A 
!  hundred  barrels  of  gunpowder  had  also 


220 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  H. 


been  received  from  Bermuda,  by  a  cou 
ple  of  coasting-schooners,  the  crews  of 
which  had  succeeded  in  landing  on  that 
island  in  the  night,  and  rifling  the  maga 
zine,  at  some  distance  from  the  town,  of 
its  contents.  Some  of  the  inhabitants, 
with  a  favorable  disposition  toward  the 
American  patriots,  were  supposed  to  have 
connived  at  or  aided  in  the  proceeding ; 
and  Congress  responded  to  their  friend 
liness  by  this  grateful  resolve  :  "  That  the 
inhabitants  of  Bermuda  appear  friendly 
to  the  cause  of  America,  and  ought  to  be 
supplied  with  such  a  quantity  of  the  prod 
uce  of  these  colonies  as  may  be  necessa 
ry  for  their  subsistence  and  home  con 
sumption." 

Washington's  little  fleet  was  not  en 
tirely  successful.  One  or  two  were  lost, 
from  the  inexperience  of  the  officers ;  and 
another  was  taken  by  the  enemy,  and  the 
captain  and  crew  sent  to  England.  The 
Lee,  however,  under  Captain  Manly,  vin 
dicated  the  "pine-tree  flag"-  — for  this, 
which  was  composed  of  a  white  ground, 
a  pine-tree  in  the  middle,  and  the  motto 
"  We  appeal  to  Heaven,"  was  the  stand 
ard  hoisted  upon  the  floating  batteries, 
and  adopted  by  the  colonial  fleet.  We 
shall  see,  in  the  progress  of  events,  the 
fortunate  result  of  Manly's  cruise. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  suffering  in 
the  camp  at  Cambridge,  from  sickness, 
which  a  chronicler  of  the  times  quaintly 
accounts  for :  "  Many  of  the  Americans," 
says  he,  "  have  sickened  and  died  of  the 
dysentery,  brought  upon  them,  in  a  great 
measure,  through  an  inattention  to  clean 
liness.  When  at  home,  their  female  rela 
tions  put  them  upon  washing  their  hands 


and  faces,  and  keeping  themselves  neat 
and  clean ;  but,  being  absent  from  such 
monitors,  through  an  indolent,  heedless 
turn  of  mind,  they  have  neglected  the 
means  of  health,  have  grown  filthy,  and 
poisoned  their  constitution  by  nastiness." 
The  weather,  too,  was  becoming  very 
cold ;  and  the  soldiers,  with  insufficient 
barracks,  and  a  want  of  wood,  were  great 
ly  exposed.  Several  regiments  were 
obliged  to  keep  the  field,  and  some  were 
tented  in  bleak  positions  upon  the  high 
tops  of  hills,  where  it  was  difficult  to  drag 
up  what  supplies  of  fuel  they  could  get. 
The  camp,  however,  with  all  this  suf 
fering  of  the  soldiers,  and  their  by  no 
means  presentable  condition,  if  we  are  to 
believe  the  chronicler  just  quoted,  was 
cheered  by  the  presence  of  "  gentlemen, 
ladies,  and  others,  from  neighboring  and 
distant  colonies,  attracted  by  curiosity." 
A  number  of  native  gentlemen,  too,  ar 
rived  :  these  were  Indian  chiefs,  who  had 
come  to  see  and  judge  for  themselves  how 
far  the  stories  which  they  had  heard  iu 
their  own  wigwams  of  the  quarrel  of  the 
Americans  with  King  George  were  true. 
Washington  received  them  at  headquar 
ters  with  great  consideration,  and  they 
were  entertained  by  him  and  his  officers 
with  a  banquet  and  a  ball.  Two  of  the 
Indians  had  with  them  their  squaws,  who 
were  remarkably  well -looking  women, 
making  all  allowance  for  their  very  dark 
complexions.  They  both  joined  their 
husbands  at  the  ball  at  headquarters,  and 
were  much  admired,  although  one  seemed 
rather  low-spirited,  from  having  recently 
lost  a  papoose.  When  the  Indians  danced 
in  company  with  the  American  gentle- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARMY  MANNERS  AND  MORALS. 


221 


men  and  ladies,  both  the  chiefs  and  their 
squaws  kept  time  with  the  greatest  pre 
cision,  and  showed  an  example  of  grace 
and  dignity  by  which  Washington  and 
his  Virginian  friends  thought  that  some 
of  their  New-England  associates  might 
benefit. 

At  that  time,  in  fact,  in  the  early  days 
of  anticipated  independence,  there  was 
great  room  for  improvement  in  the  man 
ners  of  even  the  officers.  Many  of  them, 
elected  by  their  own  troops,  allowed  them 
selves  to  be  treated  too  much  as  equals 
by  the  men ;  and  the  captain  or  the  lieu 
tenant  carried  his  ideas  of  behavior  from 
the  ranks,  where  they  were  naturally  pop 
ular,  to  headquarters,  where,  under  the 
strict  regime  of  the  formal  Washington, 
they  were  not  by  any  means  so  attrac 
tive. 


Many  of  the  higher  officers  felt  as 
Montgomery  wrote,  from  Canada:  "1 
wish  some  method  could  be  fallen  upon 
for  engaging  gentlemen  to  serve.  A  point 
of  honor,  and  more  knowledge  of  the 
world,  to  be  found  in  that  class  of  men, 
would  greatly  reform  discipline,  and  ren 
der  the  troops  much  more  tractable.' 
There  were  worse  faults,  however,  than 
bad  manners.  Gordon  says  :  "  It  is  a  mor 
tifying  truth  that  some  of  the  Massachu 
setts  officers  disgrace  the  colony  by  prac 
tising  the  meanest  arts  of  speculation. 
Every  subtlety  that  avarice  can  invent, 
or  rascality  carry  on,  are  used  to  cheat 
the  public,  by  men  who  procured  commis 
sions,  not  to  fight  for  the  liberty  of  their 
country,  but  to  prey  upon  its  distresses. 
The  army  about  to  be  enlisted  will  un 
doubtedly  be  better  officered." 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Want  of  Officers  and  Men. — Washington's  Troubles. — The  Tailors  set  to  work  in  the  Army. — A  Spirited  Affair. — 'inf 
British  in  search  of  Beef. — The  Schooner  Lee  and  Captain  Manly. — A  Capture. — Its  Welcome  in  Congress. — Anec 
dote. — "  Old  Put"  acting  Godfather  to  a  Big  Gun. — The  Difficulties  of  Enlistment. — The  Desertion  of  the  Connecticut 
and  Massachusetts  Men. — Arrival  of  Mrs.  Washington. — Its  Effect  at  Headquarters. — Indian  Guests. — "Bows  and 
Scrapes." — Ground  broken  at  Lechmere's  Point. — A  Sanguine  Colonel. — The  American  Camp  unusually  prosperous. 
— Plenty  to  eat. — An  American  Fleet  organized. — The  Brutal  Wallace. — His  llaids  upon  the  American  Coast. — His 
Conduct  at  Newport. — General  Lee  sent  to  Rhode  Island. — Lee's  Conduct. — Life  and  Character  of  Lee. — His  Pro 
fanity. 


1775, 


WASHINGTON  was  in  hopes  that 
his  forces  might  be  "better,  offi 
cered,"  and  strove  to  effect  so  desirable 
an  object,  now  that  he  was  engaged  in 
reorganizing  the  army,  in  accordance 
with  the  decision  of  Congress.  He  was, 
however,  perplexed  not  only  how  to  get 
"  better,"  but  any  officers  at  all,  or  even 


men.  As  the  number  of  regiments  was 
to  be  reduced  under  the  new  arrange 
ment,  and  the  officers  necessarily  dimin 
ished,  Washington  was  desirous  of  select 
ing  those  that  were  best  qualified.  He 
found  great  difficulty  from  both  officers 
and  men.  The  first  were  clamorous  for 
high  rank ;  and  the  latter  were  insisting 


222 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  n. 


Nov.  28, 


upon  being  subjected  only  to  the  com 
mand  of  those  whom  they  themselves 
should  choose.  After  completing  his  list 
of  officers,  he  had  hoped  to  have  succeed 
ed  readily  in  recruiting  his  new  army  out 
of  his  present  forces,  but  was  greatly  dis 
appointed  in  finding  so  few  disposed  to 
re-enlist. 

Colonel  Reed  had  resigned  his  post, and 
was  now  at  Philadelphia ;  but  Washing 
ton,  strongly  attached  to  him,  kept  up 
an  intimate  correspondence,  in  which  he 
opened  his  heart  to  his  former  secretary. 
K  Such  dearth  of  public  spirit,"  he  emphat 
ically  writes  to  Reed,  "  and  such 
want  of  virtue ;  such  stockjob 
bing,  and  fertility  in  all  the  low  arts  to 
obtain  advantage  of  one  kind  or  another 
in  this  great  change  of  military  arrange 
ments,  I  never  saw  before,  and  I  pray 
God's  mercy  that  I  may  never  be  witness 
to  again.  What  will  be  the  end  of  these 
manoeuvres  is  beyond  my  scan.  I  trem 
ble  at  the  prospect.  We  have  been  till 
this  time  enlisting  about  three  thousand 
five  hundred  men.  To  engage  these,  I 
have  been  obliged  to  allow  furloughs  as 
far  as  fifty  men  to  a  regiment ;  and  the 
officers,  I  am  persuaded,  indulge  many 
more.  The  Connecticut  troops  will  not 
be  prevailed  upon  to  stay  longer  than 
their  term,  saving  those  who  have  enlist 
ed  for  the  next  campaign,  and  are  mostly 
on  furlough ;  and  such  a  mercenary  spirit 
pervades  the  whole,  that  I  should  not  be 
surprised  at  any  disaster  that  may  hap 
pen Could  I  have  foreseen  what  I 

have  experienced  and  am  likely  to  expe 
rience,  no  consideration  upon  earth  should 
have  induced  me  to  accept  this  command." 


General  Greene  was  disposed  to  think 
the  commander-in-chief  somewhat  incon 
siderate  in  his  judgment  of  the  New-Eng- 
landers,  and  wrote  :  "  His  excellency  has 
been  taught  to  believe  the  people  here 
a  superior  race  of  mortals ;  and  finding 
them  of  the  same  temper  and  disposi 
tions,  passions  and  prejudices,  virtues  and 
vices  of  the  common  people  of  other  gov 
ernments,  they  sank  in  his  esteem." 

Washington,  however,  perplexed  as  he 
was,  steadily  resolved  to  overcome  all  ob 
stacles,  and  reorganize  an  army.  He  was 
desirous,  too,  of  giving  his  men  more  of 
the  appearance  of  soldiers,  and  issued  an 
order  in  which  he  recommended  the  non 
commissioned  officers  and-  soldiers  to  lay 
out  their  money  in  shirts,  shoes,  stock 
ings,  and  a  good  pair  of  leather  breeches, 
and  not  in  coats  and  waistcoats,  as  it  was 
intended  that  the  new  army  should  be 
clothed  in  uniform ;  to  effect  which,  the 
order  declared  that  the  Congress  would 
lay  in  goods  upon  the  best  terms  they 
could  be  obtained  anywhere  for  ready 
money,  and  that  they  would  be  sold  to 
the  troops  without  any  profit,  and  thus 
enable  each  soldier  to  get  a  uniform  coat 
and  waistcoat  cheaper  than  any  other 
kind.  The  written  order  then  closed  with 
the  notice  that  "  a  number  of  tailors  will 
be  immediately  set  to  work  to  make  regi 
mentals  for  those  brave  men  who  are  wil 
ling  at  all  hazards  to  defend  their  inval 
uable  rights  and  privileges." 

Notwithstanding  Washington's  com 
plaints  of  the  backwardness  of  his  troops 
generally  in  re-enlisting,  he  had  occasion 
to  be  gratified  by  the  spirited  conduct  of 
some  of  them  in  a  slight  affair  which  oc- 


KEVOLT7TIONARY.] 


A  SPIRITED  AFFAIR. 


223 


Nov.  9, 


curred  with  the  enemy.  Some  four  hun 
dred  British  soldiers,  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Clark,landed  on  Phipps's 
farm,  at  Lechmere's  point,  with 
a  view  of  making  a  raid  upon  the  cattle 
there,  for  the  benefit  of  the  half-starved 
troops  and  people  in  Boston,  where  such 
was  the  scarcity  of  provisions,  that  beef, 
mutton,  and  pork,  had  risen  to  one  shil 
ling  and  a  penny  halfpenny  sterling  the 
pound  ;  geese  ten  shillings  and  fowls  five 
shillings  apiece  ;  while  half  a  guinea  was 
asked  for  a  dozen  of  eggs.  Owing  to  the 
high  tide  which  overflowed  the  causeway 
that  led  from  the  camp,  and  prevented 
the  Americans  from  crossing,  the  British 
were  left  for  an  hour  or  more  without  in 
terference,  when  they  employed  them 
selves  shooting  the  cattle,  with  the  view 
of  making  off  with  the  carcasses.  Colonel 
Thompson,  with  a  regiment  of  American 
riflemen,  was  ordered  to  displace  the  in 
vaders.  The  tide  was  still  high,  but  the 
Colonel  ordered  his  troops  to  the  attack ; 
and  the  men  for  the  most  part  (though 
some  hesitated)  plunged  readily  into  the 
water  breast-high,  and  waded  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  the  face  of  a  fire  from  a  man- 
of-war  and  several  floating  batteries, which 
covered  the  British  marauders.  As  the 
Americans  advanced,  the  enemy  hastened 
to  their  boats,  with  a  booty  of  ten  cows, 
but  leaving  two  of  their  men  killed  by 
the  fire  of  the  riflemen,  whose  alacrity  on 
the  occasion  was  highly  extolled  by  Wash 
ington,  though  he  reprimanded  the  back 
wardness  of  others,  and  some  of  the  offi 
cers  for  the  unmilitary  appearance  and 
conduct  of  their  regiments.  A  Major 
Mifflin,  who  "flew  about  as  though  he 


Nov.  30, 


would  have  raised  a  whole  army,"  came 
in  for  a  large  share  of  the  honor  of  the 
day  by  his  active  gallantry. 

The  whole  camp  was  IIOAV  in  a  high 
tide  of  cheerful  excitement,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  success  of  Captain 
Manly  with  his  armed  schooner 
the  Lee.  Several  British  vessels  had  al 
ready  been  captured  and  taken  safely  in 
to  harbor,  when,  as  he  was  cruising  on 
the  coast,  Manly  fell  in  with  and  took 
the  brig  Nancy,  an  ordnance-ship  from 
Woolwich,  full  of  everything  in  the  great 
est  abundance  that  was  necessary  for 
camps  and  artillery.  There  was  found 
on  board  a  large  brass  mortar,  of  a  new 
construction ;  two  thousand  muskets ;  sev 
eral  pieces  of  fine  brass  cannon ;  one  hun 
dred  thousand  flints ;  thirty  thousand 
round  shot ;  thirty  tons  and  more  of  mus 
ket-shot  ;  plenty  of  powder,  and  "all  man 
ner  of  tools,  utensils,  and  machines." 

This  anecdote  illustrates  the  welcome 
with  which  this  capture  was  received.  The 
naval  committee  of  the  Congress  was  in 
secret  session,  deliberating  on  the  means 
of  obtaining  certain  small  articles  which 
were  indispensable  to  the  equipment  of 
vessels-of-war,  but  which  were  not  to  be 
had  in  the  country,  when  a  clamor  for 
admittance  at  the  door  interrupted  the 
proceedings.  Admittance  was  denied,  but 
the  intruder  insisted  on  entering.  The 
door  was  finally  opened,  when  a  gentle 
man  appeared,  with  an  inventory  of  the 
stores  found  in  the  captured  brig  Nancy, 
and  among  which  were  the  very  articles 
wanted.  When  the  fact  was  ascertained, 
Mr.  Adams  arose  and  exclaimed  with  his 
wonted  earnestness :  "  We  must  succeed 


224 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


— Providence  is  with  us — we  must  suc 
ceed!" 

The  Nancy  was  carried  into  Cape  Ann, 
and  her  cargo  conveyed  thence  to  the 
camp  at  Cambridge.  Great  was  the  ex 
ultation  on  its  arrival.  "  Such  universal 
joy,"  writes  an  officer,  "  ran  through  the 
whole  camp  as  if  each  grasped  victory  in 
his  hand.  To  crown  the  glorious  scene, 
there  intervened  one  truly  ludicrous— 
which  was,  Old  Put  mounted  on  the  large 
mortar,  which  was  fixed  in  its  bed  for  the 
occasion,  with  a  bottle  of  rum  in  his  hand, 
standing  parson  to  christen,  while  God 
father  Mifflin  gave  it  the  name  of  '  Con 
gress.'  The  huzzas  on  the  occasion,  I 
dare  say,  were  heard  through  all  the  ter 
ritories  of  our  most  gracious  sovereign  in 
this  province." 

The  "  huzzas  on  the  occasion"  were  at 
any  rate  heard  in  Boston,  where  the  offi 
cers  spitefully  remarked  that,  "should 
their  expected  reinforcements  arrive  in 
time,  the  rebels  would  pay  dear  in  the 
spring  for  all  their  petty  triumphs."  Man 
ly  continued  his  successes  on  the  coast 
until  he  became  a  terror  to  every  Brit 
ish  vessel.  A  man-of-war  was  sent  out  in 
pursuit  of  him,  but  he  escaped  by  run 
ning  his  vessel  ashore  in  Gloucester  har 
bor,  where  the  enemy,  after  firing  broad 
side  after  broadside  at  him,  was  obliged 
by  the  spirit  of  Manly's  crew,  aided  by 
the  inhabitants,  to  leave  him,  after  the 
British  ship  had  lost  nearly  one  half  of 
its  men.  Manly  got  his  schooner  afloat 
soon  after,  and  again  sailed  on  a  cruise. 

Washington  was  still  greatly  annoyed 
by  the  conduct  of  his  troops  in  regard 
to  re-enlistment.  The  Connecticut  regi 


ments  refused  to  serve  after  their  time, 
Avhich  would  soon  expire,  unless  they  re 
ceived  a  bounty.  This  was  refused,  and 
they  became  mutinous,  declaring  that 
they  would  quit  the  camp.  Washington, 
to  meet  the  emergency,  determined  to 
make  a  requisition  upon  the  general  court 
of  Massachusetts  for  reinforcements.  This 
body,  in  answer  to  the  demand,  promptly 
voted  that  three  thousand  of  the  minute- 
men  of  Massachusetts  and  two  thousand 
of  New-Hampshire  should  be  called  out 
and  ordered  to  present  themselves  in  the 
camp  011  the  10th  of  December.  This 
was  the  period  at  which  the  service  of 
most  of  the  Connecticut  troops  would  ex 
pire,  and  they  were  ordered  to  remain 
until  then.  Their  officers  confidently  ex 
pressed  their  belief  that  not  a  man  would 
disobey ;  but  they  were  disappointed  and 
greatly  chagrined  to  find  that  the  order 
had  hardly  been  given  out,  when  the  men 
began  to  desert. 

"  Yesterday  morning,"  writes  Washing 
ton,  "  most  of  them  resolved  to 
leave  the  camp  ;  many  went  offj 
and  the  utmost  vigilance  and  industry 
were  used  to  apprehend  them ;  several 
got  away  with  their  arms  and  ammuni 
tion."  They  had  suffered  greatly,  it  is 
true,  from  the  intensity  of  the  cold,  and 
the  want  of  necessities  with  which  they 
ought  to  have  been  better  supplied.  The 
army,  however,  and  the  country  were  not 
disposed  to  justify,  under  any  circum 
stances,  the  desertion  of  their  cause  in 
the  time  of  its  agony ;  and  as  the  desert 
ers  made  their  straggling  way  to  Con 
necticut,  they  were  hooted  and  treated 
with  other  significant  marks  of  opprobri- 


Dec,  2, 


R  K  VOLUTIOXA  R  Y.  J 


ARRIVAL  OF  MRS.  WASHINGTON. 


225 


inn,  in  every  town  and  village  through 
which  they  passed.  They  were  not  se 
cure  from  reproach  even  at  their  own 
firesides ;  and  the  scolding  of  wives,  and 
the  averted  glances  of  sweethearts,  drove 
and  shamed  many  a  deserter  back  again 
to  duty. 

That  the  Connecticut  men  were  not 
alone  in  their  reluctance  to  serve  —  al 
though  more  recreant  than  others,  by 
their  open  desertion  —  appears  from  the 
records  of  the  time.  "  The  Massachusetts 
people,"  says  a  chronicler,  "show  as  much 
backwardness  as  the  others.  In  short, 
they  expect  to  be  hired,  and  that  at  a 
very  high  price,  to  defend  their  own  lib 
erties  ;  and  choose  to  be  slaves  unless 
they  can  be  bribed  to  be  freemen.  Quid 
facit  libertas,  cum  sola  pecunia  regnat  ?  Ho  w 
must  it  afflict  General  Washington  to 
observe  in  the  present  crisis  so  little  of 
that  patriotic  spirit  which  he  was  taught 
to  believe  was  the  characteristic  of  the 
Massachusetts  people,  and  on  which  he 
relied  greatly  for  support ! . . . . 

"  While  burdened  with  an  apprehen 
sion  that  he  might  possibly  be  deserted, 
he  could  recollect  the  severity  of  the  sea 
son,  and  the  distresses  of  his  fellow-crea 
tures  at  a  distance,  and  wrote  to  the  gen 
tleman  with  whom  he  had  intrusted  the 
management  of  his  concerns  at  Mount 
Vernon;  'Let  the  hospitality  of  the  house 
be  kept  up  with  respect  to  the  poor.  Let 
no  one  go  hungry  away.  If  any  of  this 
kind  of  people  should  be  in  want  of  corn, 
supply  their  necessities,  provided  it  does 
net  encourage  them  in  idleness.  I  have 
no  objection  to  your  giving  my  money 
in  charity,  when  you  think  it  will  be  well 

29 


1775. 


bestowed.  I  mean  it  is  my  desire  that 
it  should  be  done.  You  are  to  consider 
that  neither  myself  nor  wife  are  now  in 
the  way  to  do  these  good  offices.'" 

His  wife,  as  this  letter  indicates,  was 
now  with  Washington  at  headquarters, 
where  she  had  arrived  on  the  llth  of  De 
cember,  with  her  son  John  Parke 
Custis.  The  coming  in  of  the  "gen 
eral's  lady"  was  quite  an  event  in  the 
camp ;  and  the  plain  New-England  pro 
vincials  did  not  fail  to  remark  upon  the 
grand  style  of  the  Virginian  dame,  who 
drove  into  Cambridge  with  a  chariot-and- 
four,  with  negro  postillions  in  scarlet-and- 
white  liveries.  Her  presence  greatly  en 
livened  headquarters,  and  invitations  to 
dinner  with  the  general  became  more  fre 
quent  after  she  began  to  rule  the  house 
hold.  Her  example,  too,  had  a  cheering 
influence  upon  others  of  the  "  best  socie 
ty"  of  the  camp;  and  party  succeeded  par 
ty,  night  after  night,  during  the  gloomy 
month  of  December.  Adjutant-General 
Mifflin,  who,  though  bred  up  with  the  for 
malities  of  Quakerism,  had  received  a 
dash  of  liveliness  from  a  residence  in 
France,  was  prominent  among  the  gayest 
of  the  officers,  and  provoked  the  conviv 
iality  of  the  camp  by  frequent  invitations 
to  supper  and  dinner.  "I  dined,"  says 
John  Adams,  "  at  Colonel  Mifflin's,  with 
General  Washington  and  lady,  and  a  vast 
collection  of  other  company,  among  whom 
were  six  or  seven  sachems  and  warriors 
of  the  French  Caughnawaga  Indians, 
with  their  wives  and  children.  A  savage 
feast  they  made  of  it,  yet  were  very  po 
lite  in  the  Indian  style.  I  was  introduced 
to  them  by  the  general  as  one  of  the 


226 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


Dec.  13, 


grand  council  at  Philadelphia,  which  made 
them  prick  up  their  ears.  They  came 
and  shook  hands  with  me,  and  made 
many  low  bows  and  scrapes."* 

Massachusetts  and  New  Hampshire  had 
come  nobly  to  the  rescue  on  the  desertion 
of  the  Connecticut  regiments,  and  the  re 
cruits  came  in  rapidly  from  these  prov 
inces.  Washington  was  quite  inspirited, 
and  wrote  :  "  I  have  the  satisfac 
tion  to  tell  you  that  things  wear 
a  better  complexion  here  than  they  have 
done  for  some  time  past.  The  army  is 
filling  up.  The  barracks  go  on  well.  Fire 
wood  comes  in.  The  soldiers  are  made 
comfortable  and  easy.  Our  privateers 
meet  with  success  in  bringing  in  vessels 
that  were  going  to  the  relief  of  Boston." 
Washington,  reinforced  with  new  troops, 
and  encouraged  by  the  better  spirit  of 
the  men,  was  enabled  now  to  proceed 
vigorously  with  his  defences. 

The  American  general  carried  his  ap 
proaches  to  within  half  a  mile  of  Boston, 
and  broke  ground  at  Lechrnere's  point. 
The  enemy  did  not  attempt  any  hinder- 
ance,  and  allowed  the  Americans  to  pro 
ceed  with  their  works  for  several  days 
without  firing  a  shot.  This  puzzled  Wash 
ington,  who  could  not  understand  their 
object,  unless  it  was  to  lull  him  into  a  fatal 
security.  He  was,  however,  on  the  alert, 
for  it  only  increased  his  vigilance,  and  in 
duced  him  to  fortify  all  the  advances  to 

*  Irving,  who  quotes  this  extract,  remarks  upon  the 
"  bows  and  scrapes"  with  which  Adams  states  the  Indians 
received  him,  that  it  is  a  kind  of  homage  never  paid  by  an 
Indian  warrior.  If,  however,  Irving  admits  the  "  shaking 
of  hands,"  he  might  concede  to  the  savages  the  further 
progress  in  civilized  politeness  of  "bows  and  scrapes,"  es 
pecially  on  calling  to  mind  that  the  Indians  were  French 
Caughnawagas. 


the  camp,  and  to  guard  any  approaches 
upon  the  ice.  He  was  in  hourly  expec 
tation  of  an  attack.  The  work  contin 
ued,  notwithstanding ;  and  the  men  had 
succeeded  in  constructing  a  causeway 
over  the  marsh,  nearly  to  Lechmere's 
point,  when  the  enemy's  ships  and  batte 
ries  at  last  began  to  fire.  The  Americans 
were  driven  away,  with  one  man  wound 
ed,  and  did  not  renew  their  labors  until 
the  next  morning,  when  the  British  man- 
of-war  was  forced  by  the  artillery  in  the 
camp  to  shift  its  moorings.  The  British 
batteries,  however,  still  played  upon  the 
spot ;  but  the  men,  growing  familiar  with 
the  bombs  which  were  bursting  and  scat 
tering  the  dirt  over  them,  and  learning 
how  to  dodge  them  as  the  sentinels  cried 
out,  "  A  shot !"  continued  their  labors : 
so  that,  in  spite  of  the  snow,  the  frozen 
ground,  and  the  dangerous  proximity  of 
the  enemy,  there  were  soon  two  redoubts 
built  on  Lechmere's  point,  with  a  cause 
way  and  a  covered  approach  leading  to 
them.  "  Give  us  powder  and  authority," 
says  an  enthusiastic  colonel,  "  I  say  give 
us  these,  and  Boston  can  be  set  in  flames." 
So  important  did  he,  as  in  fact  all  his 
comrades,  esteem  these  new  works. 

Everything  seemed  now  unusually  pros 
perous  in  the  camp.  The  soldiers  were 
supplied  with  abundant  food  —  getting 
corned  beef  and  pork  four  days,  fresh  beel 
two  days,  and  salt  fish  one  day,  in  the 
week ;  a  quart  of  spruce-beer,  or  an  equiv 
alent  in  molasses  daily,  in  the  way  of  li 
quid  refreshment ;  and  fair  proportions 
of  such  delicacies  as  rice,  Indian  meal, 
hog's  lard,  and  butter,  on  stated  occasions. 
A  spectator  describes  the  appearance  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


PROVINCIAL  FLEET. 


227 


the  American  camp  with  enthusiasm : 
"About  two  months  ago,"  he  says,  "I 
visited  the  camps  at  Roxbury  and  Cam 
bridge.  The  lines  of  both  are  impregna 
ble;  with  forts  (many  of  which  are  bomb 
proof)  and  the  redoubts,  supposing  them 
to  be  all  in  a  direction,  are  about  twenty 
miles;  the  breastworks  of  a  proper  height, 
and  in  many  places  seventeen  feet  in 
thickness ;  the  trenches  wide  and  deep  in 
proportion,  before  which  lay  forked  im 
pediments  ;  and  many  of  the  forts,  in  ev 
ery  respect,  are  perfectly  ready  for  bat 
tle.  The  whole,  in  a  word,  the  admira 
tion  of  every  spectator ;  for  verily  their 
fortifications  appear  to  be  the  works  of 
seven  years,  instead  of  about  as  many 
months.  At  these  camps  are  about  twen 
ty  thousand  men.  The  generals  and  other 
officers,  in  all  their  military  undertakings, 
solid,  discreet,  and  courageous ;  the  men 
daily  raving  for  action,  and  seemingly 
devoid  of  fear.  There  are  many  floating- 
batteries,  and  batteaux  in  abundance ; 
besides  this  strength,  ten  thousand  mili 
tia  are  ordered  in  that  government  to 
appear  on  the  first  summons.  Provisions 
and  money  there  are  very  plenty,  and 
the  soldiers  faithfully  paid.  The  army 
in  great  order,  and  very  healthy,  and 
about  six  weeks  ago  lodged  in  com 
fortable  barracks.  Chaplains  constantly 
attend  the  camps  morning  and  night; 
prayers  are  often  offered  up  for  peace 
and  reconciliation,  and  the  soldiers  very 
attentive.  The  roads  at  the  time  I  viewed 
the  camps  were  almost  lined  with  spec 
tators,  and  thousands  with  me  can  declare 
the  above  respecting  the  camps  to  be  a 
just  description." 


Dec,  13. 


Congress  had  determined  upon  the  or 
ganization  of  a  fleet,  and  had  or 
dered  five  ships  of  thirty-two 
guns,  five  of  twenty-eight,  and  three  of 
twenty-four,  to  be  built;  but  while  these 
were  in  process  of  construction,  the  coasts 
of  New  England  suffered  greatly  from 
the  British  cruisers.  The  American  pri 
vateers  were  on  the  alert,  but  being  of 
small  force  and  fewr  in  number,  were  (al 
though  some  continued  to  give  a  good 
account  of  themselves)  unable  to  effect 
much  against  the  powerful  English  squad 
ron,  which  continued  its  depredations 
along  the  coast  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to 
the  bay  of  New  York.  Rhode  Island  had 
been  a  great  sufferer,  and  now  called  up 
on  Washington  for  aid  to  protect  her  har 
bors  from  the  severe  exactions  of  a  Brit 
ish  naval  captain,  Wallace. 

Wallace  was  a  brutal  fellow,  who  had 
been  long  on  the  coast,  and  was  notori 
ous  in  America,  even  before  the  war,  for 
his  coarseness  and  insolence.  Being  asked 
once  by  the  mistress  of  a  boarding-house 
in  Philadelphia,  where  he  happened  to  be 
a  lodger,  if  he  would  be  helped  to  a  dish 
before  her,  Wallace  replied,  "Damrne, 
madam,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  at  a  pub 
lic  table  every  man  has  a  right  to  help 
himself,  and  this  I  mean  to  do !"  The 
poor  woman,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
begged  the  brute's  pardon.  On  another 
occasion,  Wallace  got  as  much  as  he  gave, 
from  a  cool  Quaker  with  whom  at  dinner 
he  had  made  very  free,  twitting  him  about 
his  broad  brim,  and  theeiny  and  iliouing  him 
very  familiarly.  The  Friend  bore  it  very 
patiently  until  after  dinner,  when  he  at 
length  ventured  to  say  to  his  persecutor: 


228 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


"  Captain,  thee  has  made  very  free  with 
me,  and  asked  me  a  great  many  ques 
tions,  which  I  have  endeavored  to  answer 
to  thy  satisfaction.  Wilt  thou  now  per 
mit  me  to  ask  thee  one  in  my  turn  ?"- 
"  Oh,  by  all  means !"  exclaimed  the  cap 
tain,  "  anything  thee  please,  friend ;  what 
is  it?" — "Why,  then,  I  wish  to  be  in 
formed  what  makes  thee  drink  so  often : 
art  thou  really  dry  every  time  thou  car- 
riest  the  liquor  to  thy  mouth  ?"  The  cap- 
tain,drunk  as  he  was,felt  this  home  thrust, 
frowned  savagely,  and,  swearing  a  loud 
curse,  asked,  "What!  do  you  think  I  am 
like  a  hog,  only  to  drink  when  I  am  dry  ?" 
The  fellow  was  as  cruel  in  disposition  as 
he  was  coarse  and  violent  in  manner. 

This  Wallace  had  stationed  his  vessel- 
of-war  off  Newport,  where  he  would  land 
his  sailors  and  marines,  to  make  depreda 
tions  upon  the  inhabitants.  A  party  of 
these  marauders  had  lately  gone  ashore, 
and,  not  satisfied  with  killing  and  carry 
ing  off  the  cattle,  had  broken  into,  plun 
dered,  and  finally  burned,  some  of  the 
houses.  It  was  also  feared  by  the  Rhode- 
Islanders  that  the  British  admiral  at  Bos 
ton  was  about  sending  a  large  naval  force, 
with  the  view  of  subjecting,  by  the  con 
nivance  of  the  tory  residents,  the  whole 
island  to  British  military  rule. 

The  governor  of  Rhode  Island,  in  soli 
citing  the  aid  of  Washington,  had  sug 
gested  that  Lee  might  be  sent;  and  he 
accordingly  was  ordered  to  Newport  with 
several  companies  of  riflemen,  which  were 
joined  on  the  march  by  a  considerable 
number  of  militia.  Lee  was  the  very 
man  for  the  emergency  ;  his  usual  faults 
of  character  became  merits  on  the  occa 


sion.  His  self-willed  temper  made  him 
prompt  in  the  execution  of  his  measures. 
He  entered  Newport,  and  at  once  sum 
moned  before  him  all  persons  known  or 
suspected  of  giving  countenance  to  the 
enemy.  He  then  forced  them  to  take  an 
oath  by  which  they  "  religiously  swore 
they  would  neither  directly  nor  indirect 
ly  assist  the  wicked  instruments  of  min 
isterial  tyranny  and  villany  commonly 
called  the  king's  troops  and  navy,  by  fur 
nishing  them  with  provisions  and  refresh 
ments;"  and  swore,  moreover,  to  denounce 
"  all  traitors  before  the  public  authority, 
and  to  take  arms  in  defence  of  American 
liberty,  whenever  required  by  Congress 
or  the  provincial  authority."  We  may 
conceive  of  the  terror  infused  into  the 
hearts  of  the  tories  by  the  determined 
conduct  of  Lee,  when  he  succeeded  in 
extorting  such  an  oath  from  all  but  three 
of  those  who  were  brought  before  him. 
He  soon  returned  to  Cambridge.  As  Lee 
will,  from  this  moment,  begin  to  appear 
more  prominently  upon  the  scene,  we 
may  here  give  a  record  of  his  history. 

CHARLES  LEE  can  almost  be  said  to  have 
been  born  a  soldier.  His  father  was  a 
general  in  the  British  army,  and  the  son 
received  a  commission  at  the  early  age 
of  eleven  years.  Born  in  Wales,  in  1731, 
young  Lee  had  all  the  impulsive  charac 
teristics  of  the  Welsh.  He  was  ardent 
and  brave,  irascible  and  headstrong.  In 
the  army,  where  he  began  so  early  a  ca 
reer,  his  energetic  courage  was  soon  no 
ticed,  and  led  to  his  frequent  employment 
in  active  service.  In  1756,  he  first  came 
to  America,  and  won  renown  in  the  colo 
nial  battles  as  an  officer  in  the  royal  army. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CHARLES  LEE. 


229 


From  his  earliest  days  his  disposition  had 
been  wayward,  and  his  conduct  socially 
irregular.  He  now  gave  signal  proof  of 
his  eccentricity,  by  abandoning  civilized 
life,  and  casting  himself  adrift  among  the 
roaming  Indians.  He  was  welcomed  by 
the  Mohawks,  whom  he  had  joined,  and 
made  by  them  a  chief,  with  an  Indian 
name,  which  signified  "  Boiling  Water." 
This  title,  so  characteristic  of  the  restless 
disposition  of  the  man,  was  a  remarkable 
proof  of  the  shrewd  insight  of  his  savage 
friends  who  conferred  it.  The  capricious- 
ness  of  Lee,  which  had  led  him  to  leave, 
induced  him  to  return  to  civilization.  A 
new  whim  took  possession  of  his  mind. 
He  wished  to  take  part  in  political  strife. 
He  had  always  been  fond  of  books,  and, 
having  an  ambition  as  a  writer,  often  in 
dulged  in  literary  compositions,  chiefly 
of  a  partisan  character. 

On  his  return  to  England, however,  Lee 
was  induced  to  take  up  arms  again,  and, 
having  received  a  colonel's  commission, 
served  under  General  Burgoyne  in  Por 
tugal,  where  he  exhibited  great  daring, 
on  one  occasion  swimming  the  Tagus  at 
the  head  of  his  troops.  After  the  war, 
he  lived  in  London,  where  he  made  him 
self  somewhat  famous  as  a  political  wri 
ter  and  advocate  of  liberal  principles.  In 
a  short  time  he  wearied  of  this  life,  and 
sought  promotion  from  the  British  au 
thorities,  who,  however,  would  not  listen 
to  the  appeal  of  a  man  who  had  been  no 
toriously  engaged  in  attacking  them  with 
all  the  bitterness  of  which  he  was  capa 
ble.  Indeed,  such  was  the  keenness  and 
vigor  of  his  pen,  that  some  even  attrib 
uted  to  him  the  authorship  of  the  cele 


brated  letters  of  "  Junius."  Lee  now  went 
abroad,  and  travelled  for  several  years 
on  the  continent  of  Europe,  where  he  ac 
quired  a  knowledge  of  various  languages, 
and  succeeded  in  making  the  acquaint 
ance  of  the  great,  with  whom  he  so  far  in 
gratiated  himself,  that  he  was  commend 
ed  by  them  to  Stanislaus  Augustus,  king 
of  Poland,  who  made  him  his  aid-de-camp. 
From  Poland  he  repaired,  in  some  official 
capacity,  to  Constantinople.  After  a  short 
residence  in  Turkey,  Lee  threw  off  his  al 
legiance  to  the  Polish  king,  and  went  to 
Paris.  In  1773,  he  returned  to  America, 
determined  to  make  it  his  home  for  the 
rest  of  his  life.  By  the  advice  of  his  old 
comrade  and  countryman  Gates,  he  pur 
chased  an  estate  in  Virginia,  and  was  there 
living,  with  his  books  and  his  dogs,  the 
easy  life  of  a  southern  planter,  when  the 
struggle  with  Great  Britain  commenced. 
Lee,  who  was  always  a  liberal,  promptly 
declared  for  the  Americans.  His  acces 
sion  to  the  cause  was  gladly  welcomed, 
and  his  experience  as  a  military  leader 
induced  Congress  to  make  him  a  briga 
dier-general. 

Lee  was  an  eccentric  person,  who,  al 
though  possessed  of  the  breeding  of  a 
gentleman,  was  fond  of  ruffling  the  for 
malities  of  society  by  personal  irregular 
ity  of  manners.  He  was  slovenly  in  his 
dress,  and  not  seldom  careless  in  behav 
ior.  "  Plain  in  person  even  to  ugliness, 
and  careless  in  his  manners  even  to  a  de 
gree  of  rudeness,  his  nose  was  so  remark 
ably  aquiline  that  it  appeared  as  a  real 
deformity.  His  voice  was  rough,  his  garb 
ordinary,  his  deportment  morose.  He 
was  ambitious  of  fame,  without  the  dig- 


230 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


nity  to  support  it.  In  private  life,  he 
sank  into  the  vulgarity  of  the  clown." 
Such  was  the  by  no  means  flattering  ac 
count  given  of  Lee  by  an  observant  lady. 
He  does  not  seem  to  have  been  a  favor 
ite  with  the  gentle  sex,  of  whom  another 
is  reported  to  have  said  that  he  was  "  a 
crabbed  man  ;"  and  Mrs.  Adams  declares 
that "  the  elegance  of  his  pen  far  exceeds 
that  of  his  person."  He  is  supposed  to 
have  suffered  in  the  good  opinion  of  the 
ladies  by  his  fondness  for  dogs,  a  pack  of 
which  always  followed  him  wherever  he 
went,  to  the  manifest  disorder  of  the  good 
housekeeping  of  his  female  friends.  "  I 
was  very  politely  entertained  and  noticed 
by  the  generals,"  writes  Mrs.  Adams — 
"  more  especially  General  Lee,  who  was 
very  urgent  for  me  to  tarry  in  town  and 
dine  with  him  and  the  ladies  present  at 


1  Hobgoblin  hall ;'  but  I  excused  myself. 
The  general  was  determined  that  I  should 
not  only  be  acquainted  with  him,  but  with 
his  companions  too;  and  therefore  placed 
a  chair  before  me,  into  which  he  ordered 
Mr.  Spada  (his  dog)  to  mount,  and  pre 
sent  his  paw  to  me  for  a  better  acquaint 
ance.  I  could  not  do  otherwise  than  ac 
cept  it." 

The  New-Englanders  were  dreadfully 
shocked  by  Lee's  impiety.  He  "  swore 
like  a  trooper,"  and  did  not  fear  to  scoff 
openly  at  the  ordinances  of  religion. 
When  a  day  was  appointed  to  invoke 
the  aid  of  Heaven  upon  the  American 
cause,  Lee  ridiculed  it,  and  remarked, 
"Heaven  is  ever  found  favorable  to 
strong  battalions !"  Tom  Paine  said  of 
him  that  "he  was  above  all  monarchs, 
and  below  all  scum." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

The  Sufferings  of  the  British  in  Boston.— British  Officers,  however,  make  an  Effort  to  console  themselves.— Turn  Play 
wrights  and  Actors.— An  Incident  at  the  Play.— A  Sudden  Exit.— The  Attack  on  the  Works  at  Charlestown.— The 
First  of  January  in  the  American  Camp.— Troubles  of  Enlistment.— Washington's  Afflictions.— The  Patriotic  Spirit 
still  alive. — The  King's  Speech. — Its  Reception  in  the  American  Camp. — Washington  eager  to  destroy  the  "Nest  in 
Boston."— Arrival  of  a  British  Squadron. — New  York  threatened.— Washington  provides  for  the  Emergency.— Lee 
sent  to  New  York. — His  Journey  thither. — Arrival  and  Conduct  at  New  York. — An  Emphatic  Menace. — One  of  Lee's 
Tremendous  Oaths. — New  York  Tories. — Sir  John  Johnson. — His  Manoeuvres.— Watched  hy  Schuyler. — A  Forcible 
Argument  applied  to  the  Indians.— Schuyler  proceeds  to  Johnstown.— Sir  John  forced  to  capitulate,  and  pledge  Him 
self  to  Inaction. — Approval  of  Schuyler's  Conduct. 


1775. 


THE  British  in  Boston  had  more 
than  their  share  of  the  sufferings 
of  the  winter.  The  distress  of  the  troops 
and  inhabitants  was  spoken  of  as  "  great 
beyond  all  possible  description.  Neither 
vegetables,  flour,  nor  pulse  for  the  inhab 
itants;  and  the  king's  stores  so  very  short, 


none  can  be  spared  from  them ;  no  fuel, 
and  the  winter  set  in  remarkably  severe. 
The  troops  and  inhabitants  are  absolutely 
and  literally  starving  for  want  of  pro  vis- 
ions  and  fire.  Even  salt  provision  is  fif 
teen  pence  sterling  per  pound."  The 
small-pox,  too,  broke  out  in  Boston,  ter- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  BRITISH  FARCE. 


231 


ribly  alarming  the  people,  whom  even  the 
thought  that  the  disease  was  the  best  pro 
tection  against  the  assault  of  the  enemy 
did  not  reconcile  to  its  infliction.  The  ' 
weather  was  so  severe,  with  its  freezing 
cold  arid  drifting  snows,  that  it  was  found 
necessary  to  order  General  Clinton  and 
the  larger  portion  of  his  troops  to  take 
refuge  within  the  town  from  the  exposed 
heights  of  Bunker's  hill,  where  only  a 
small  garrison  was  left  in  three  redoubts. 

Wood,  too,  was  as  scarce  in  Boston  as 
in  the  American  camp ;  but  Howe  had 
less  scruples  than  Washington  in  supply 
ing  his  wants.  The  British  general  issued 
orders  for  pulling  down  the  old  North 
meetinghouse,  containing  a  great  deal  of 
timber,  and  a  hundred  wooden  dwelling- 
houses  and  other  buildings  to  be  used  for 
fuel.  The  trees  on  the  common  were 
hewed  down,  and  the  celebrated  Liberty- 
tree  furnished  fourteen  cords  of  wood ! 
Though  they  succeeded  in  thus  supply 
ing  one  want,  they  had  much  greater  diffi 
culty  in  satisfying  others.  An  occasional 
coaster  from  Nova  Scotia  would  escape 
the  American  privateers,  and  succeed  in 
landing  a  cargo  of  beef,  poultry,  and  hay; 
but  such  was  the  scarcity  of  these  articles, 
that  they  were  snatched  up  at  once,  at 
the  most  exorbitant  prices,  by  the  few 
who  were  rich  enough  to  buy  them.  The 
great  mass  of  the  troops  and  people  were 
forced  to  live  exclusively  upon  salt  pro. 
visions,  and  even  upon  meager  supplies 
of  those.  The  necessary  result  was,  the 
prevalence  of  scurvy  and  fatal  dysen 
teries. 

The  British  officers,  however,  made  a 
commendable  effort  to  sustain  the  spirits 


of  their  men  under  these  severe  trials. 
They  got  up  concerts,  balls,  and  plays,  in 
Faneuil  hall,  to  enliven  the  people.  In 
their  dramatic  performances  they  tried 
to  serve  the  double  purpose  of  making 
the  audience,  by  provocatives  to  their 
cheerfulness,  less  discontented  with  them 
selves,  and,  by  appeals  to  their  sense  of 
ridicule,more  regardless  of  their  enemies. 
The  Americans  were  "  taken  off"  by  the 
military  playwrights,  and  "  shown  up"  to 
the  manifest  delight  of  a  nightly  con 
course  of  tories  and  red-coats.  The  bills 
of  the  plays  were,  with  a  refined  irony, 
frequently  sent  by  some  anonymous  to 
ries  to  Washington  and  his  generals.  The 
"  Blockade  of  Boston,"  supposed  to  have 
been  composed  by  Burgoyne  himself,  who 
was  known  even  at  that  time  to  have  a 
dramatic  turn,  having  heen  written  with 
the  express  purpose  of  ridiculing  Wash 
ington  and  his  troops,  drew  together  on 
the  night  of  its  performance  an  unusually 
large  audience. 

"  The  Busy-body,"  the  first  piece  on  the 
bill,  being  over,  the  curtain  drew  up  for 
the  farce  of  "  The  Blockade  of  Boston." 
Washington  was,  of  course,  a  prominent 
character,  and  appeared  with  a  large  wig 
on  his  head,  a  long  rusty  sword  by  his 
side, and  followed  by  his  orderly  sergeant, 
who  had  on  his  shoulder  a  rusty  gun 
seven  feet  long,  and  was  otherwise  ludi 
crously  equipped.  These  dramatic  per 
sonages  had  hardly  made  their  appear 
ance,  when  a  real  character  presented 
himself  in  the  shape  of  a  British  sergeant, 
who  came  running  on  the  stage,  and, 
throwing  down  his  musket,  called  out 
lustily,"  The  Yankees  are  attacking  Bun- 


232 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


ker's  hill !"  The  audience  thought  that 
this  was  a  part  of  the  play,  until  Howe, 
who  was  present,  cried  out,  "Officers,  to 
your  alarm-posts  /"  when  the  military  por 
tion  of  the  crowd  made  great  haste  away, 
leaving  the  ladies  shrieking  and  fainting, 
and  the  rest  of  the  audience  in  a  state  of 
great  consternation. 

The  alarm  had  been  caused  by  an  at 
tack  of  two  hundred  men,  under  Captain 
Knowlton,  sent  out  by  General  Putnam, 
from  his  works  on  Cobble  hill,  to  destroy 
some  houses  in  Charlestown :  these  houses, 
about  fourteen  in  number,  were  all  that 
were  left  after  the  general  fire,  and  were 
occupied  by  the  British.  The  Americans 
started  out  at  night,  and,  crossing  the  ice 
at  the  dam,  succeeded  in  burning  eight 
or  ten  of  the  houses,  killing  one  man,  and 
taking  captive  the  guard,  with  their  arms. 
The  British  garrison  on  Bunker's  hill  were 
alarmed  by  the  flames,  and  commenced  a 
brisk  fire,  doing  no  damage  to  the  Amer 
icans,  but  greatly  disturbing  the  equanim 
ity,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the  troops  and 
people  within  Boston. 

The  opening  of  the  year  in  the 
American  camp  was  a  time  of  great 
anxiety.  The  period  of  service  of  most 
of  the  regiments  had  expired ;  and  the 
old  troops  were  in  such  a  hurry  to  get 
away,  and  the  new  were  so  slow  in  com 
ing  in,  that  during  the  early  days  of  Jan 
uary  there  were  hardly  ten  thousand  men 
before  Boston.  Washington  was  not  only 
full  of  care,  from  the  great  interests  at 
stake,  but  annoyed  exceedingly  by  the 
resistance  with  which  his  orders  were  met 
by  the  disbanding  troops.  Many  of  the 
fresh  men  had  come  in  unprovided  with 


1776, 


arms,  and  it  became  necessary  to  insist 
that  those  who  were  leaving  the  ranks 
should  sell  their  guns,  at  a  price  fixed 
by  inspectors  appointed  for  the  purpose. 
This  caused  dissatisfaction,  and  much 
grumbling.  Washington,  observing  the 
dissatisfied  spirit  of  his  forces,  appealed 
to  their  patriotism  in  a  general  order,  in 
which,  after  reminding  them  that  "  an 
army  without  order,  regularity,  or  disci 
pline,  is  no  better  than  a  commissioned 
mob,"  he  entreated  them  to  conduct  them 
selves  like  true  soldiers,  as  "  everything 
dear  to  freemen  was  at  stake,"  and  could 
only  be  secured  by  the  faithful  perform 
ance  of  their  military  duties. 

The  care  which  weighed  upon  Wash 
ington's  mind  at  this  time  was  known  then 
only  to  his  most  intimate  friends,  to  whom 
in  the  confidence  of  his  letters  he  unbur 
dened  his  heart.  To  his  former  secretary 
(Reed)  he  writes:  "Search  the 
volumes  of  history  through,  and 
I  much  question  whether  a  case  similar 
to  ours  is  to  be  found  :  namely,  to  main 
tain  a  post  against  the  flower  of  the  Brit 
ish  troops  for  six  months  together,  with 
out  powder;  and  then  to  have  one  army 
disbanded,  and  another  to  be  raised,  with 
in  the  same  distance  of  a  reinforced  army. 
What  may  be  the  issue  of  the  last  manoeu 
vre,  time  only  can  unfold.  I  wish  this 
month  were  well  over  our  heads." 

Again  he  writes,  a  few  days  later : 
"The  reflection  upon  my  situation,  and 
that  of  this  army,  produces  many  an  unea 
sy  hour,  when  all  around  me  are  wrapped 
in  sleep.  Few  people  know  the  predica 
ment  we  are  in,  on  a  thousand  accounts  ; 
fewer  still  will  believe,  if  any  disaster 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  KING'S  SPEECH. 


233 


happens  to  these  lines,  from  what  cause 
it  flows.  I  have  often  thought  how  much 
happier  I  should  have  been,  if,  instead  of 
accepting  of  a  command  under  such  cir 
cumstances,  I  had  taken  my  musket  on 
my  shoulder  and  entered  the  ranks;  or, 
if  I  could  have  justified  the  measure  to 
posterity  and  my  own  conscience,  had  re 
tired  to  the  back  country,  and  lived  in  a 
wigwam.  If  I  shall  be  able  to  rise  supe 
rior  to  these,  and  many  other  difficulties 
which  might  be  enumerated,  1  shall  most 
religiously  believe  that  the  finger  of  Prov 
idence  is  in  it,  to  blind  the  eyes  of  our 
enemies;  for  surely  if  we  get  well  through 
this  month,  it  must  be  for  the  want  of 
their  knowing  the  disadvantages  we  labor 
under." 

With  all  this  discouragement,  the  pa 
triotic  feeling  in  the  camp  does  not  seem 
to  have  flagged.  When  for  the  first  time, 
on  New-Year's  day,  the  flag  with  thirteen 
stripes,  symbolical  of  the  union  of  the 
thirteen  colonies,  was  hoisted,  there  was 
apparently  great  enthusiasm,  which  found 
vent  in  loud  hurrahs.  On  the  same  day, 
the  British  commander  sent  in  with  a  flag 
of  truce  a  "  volume"  of  the  king's  speech 
at  the  opening  of  Parliament.  This,  how 
ever,  only  served  to  fire  the  patriotic  ar 
dor  of  the  troops — although,  singularly 
enough,  the  hoisting  of  the  new  flag,  and 
the  loud  rejoicings  of  the  American  camp, 
were  "  received  in  Boston  as  a  token  of 
the  deep  impression  which  the  speech 
had  made,"  and  as  "  a  signal  of  submis 
sion." — "  By  this  time"  (January  4th), 
writes  Washington,  "  I  presume  they  be 
gin  to  think  it  strange  that  we  have  not 
made  a  formal  surrender  of  our  lines." 
ao 


The  king's  speech,  on  the  contrary,  was 
received  with  a  feeling  the  very  reverse 
of  that  which  might  lead  to  the  hoisting 
of  "a  signal  of  submission."  The  patriots 
now  talked  of  absolute  independence,  and 
looked  forward  with  hope  to  raising  in 
America  "  an  empire  of  permanent  dura 
tion,  supported  upon  the  grand  pillars  of 
truth,  freedom,  and  religion,  based  upon 
justice,  and  defended  by  her  own  patri 
otic  sons."  The  obstinate  resolve  ex 
pressed  by  George  III.,  not  to  give  up 
the  colonies  at  any  expense  of  blood  and 
treasure,  and  the  proof  he  gave  of  his 
determination  (by  the  fact  of  his  recom 
mendation  that  the  navy  and  army  of 
Great  Britain  should  be  increased,  and 
the  mercenary  aid  of  the  Hessians  hired, 
for  the  purpose  of  suppressing  the  "  re 
bellious  war"),  did  not  shake  the  firmness 
of  the  Americans,  but  greatly  excited 
their  patriotic  rage. 

The  Congress,  after  a  long  debate,  hav 
ing  passed  a  resolution  authori- 

\_    .  .  l!ec,  22, 

zing  Washington  to  make  an  as 
sault  upon  the  enemy,  "  in  any  manner 
he  might  think  expedient,  notwithstand 
ing  the  town  and  property  in  it  might  be 
destroyed,"  he  began  seriously  to  contem 
plate  an  attack.  In  his  anxiety  to  do 
something,  he  went  so  far  as  to  declare 
to  the  council  of  war  called  to  deliberate 
upon  the  question,  that  "  it  is  indispensa 
bly  necessary  to  make  a  bold  attempt  to 
conquer  the  ministerial  troops  in  Boston 
before  they  can  be  reinforced  in  the 
spring,  if  the  means,"  he  cautiously  add 
ed,  however,  "  shall  be  provided,  and  a 
favorable  opportunity  shall  offer." 

How  great  his  desire  for  an  assault, 


234 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART.  n. 


Jan.  24. 


and  how  inadequate  his  means,  may  be 
learned  from  this  letter  to  the  Congress 
at  Philadelphia  :  "  No  man  upon 
earth  wishes  more  ardently  to 
destroy  the  nest  in  Boston  than  I  do ;  no 
person  would  be  willing  to  go  greater 
lengths  than  I  shall  to  accomplish  it,  if  it 
shall  be  thought  advisable.  But  if  \ve 
have  neither  powder  to  bombard  with, 
nor  ice  to  pass  on,  we  shall  be  in  no  bet 
ter  situation  than  we  have  been  in  all  the 
year ;  we  shall  be  worse,  because  their 
works  are  stronger." 

To  strengthen  his  force,  Washington 
had  proposed  to  call  out  the  New-Eng 
land  militia ;  and  accordingly  a  requisi 
tion  was  made  on  Massachusetts,  New 
Hampshire,  and  Connecticut,  for  thirteen 
regiments,  to  assemble  at  Cambridge  on 
the  first  of  February.  While  this  plan 
was  in  operation,  Washington  felt  more 
keenly  than  ever  the  inadequacy  of  his 
forces,  for  he  had  heard  of  the  defeat  and 
death  of  the  gallant  Montgomery,  and 
would  have  desired  to  send  reinforce 
ments  at  once  to  the  aid  of  Arnold.  He 
could  not,  however,  spare  a  man  from  his 
own  camp ;  and  his  only  alternative  was 
to  order  three  of  the  new  regiments  of 
militia,  when  filled,  to  proceed  to  Que 
bec. 

Washington  was  thus,  as  it  were,  fast 
ened  in  his  camp,  unable  to  move  in  con 
sequence  of  th-e  want  of  troops  and  am 
munition,  although  other  circumstances 
seemed  favorable  to  action.  How  keenly 
he  felt  his  position  is  told  in  every  letter 
he  wrote.  To  Congress  he  writes  :  "  To 
have  the  eyes  of  a  whole  continent  fixed 
with  anxious  expectation  of  seeing  some 


great  event,  and  to  be  restrained  in  every 
military  operation  for  want  of  the  neces 
sary  means  to  carry  it  on,  is  not  very 
pleasing,  especially  as  the  means  used  to 
conceal  my  weakness  from  the  enemy, 
conceal  it  also  from  our  friends,  and  add 
to  their  wonder."  Washington,  however, 
had  some  diversion  for  his  pent-up  ener 
gies,  in  the  prospect  of  activity  in  another 
quarter,  where,  if  his  personal  presence 
was  not  required,  the  exercise  of  his  judg 
ment  became  necessary. 

Information  had  been  brought  to  head 
quarters,  by  a  trustworthy  person  from 
Boston,  of  great  activity  in  the  British 
fleet.  Admiral  Shuldham,  appointed  to 
supersede  Graves,  had  arrived  in  the  har 
bor  with  a  squadron  and  considerable 
reinforcements.  On  his  arrival,  a  busy 
movement  began :  troops  were  detailed 
off  for  service,  baggage  packed,  provisions 
inspected,  biscuit  baked,  and  ammunition 
taken  out  of  store,  with  the  evident  pur 
pose  of  making  ready  for  sea,  preparatory 
to  an  attack  against  some  place  or  other. 
Finally,  five  transports  loaded  with  troops 
under  the  command  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
with  munitions  of  war,  two  bomb-vessels, 
and  a  number  of  flat-bottomed  boats,  sailed 
away  from  Boston  under  the  convoy  of 
the  Scarborough  and  Fowey  men-of-war. 
It  was  supposed  that  Long  island  was  the 
destination  of  this  force,  and  Washington 
accordingly  was  anxious  to  provide  a 
resistance  to  meet  it.  He  had  written  to 
Congress,  urging  them  to  have  some  of 
the  New-Jersey  troops  thrown  into  New 
York;  but,  not  getting  much  satisfaction 
in  that  quarter,  he  determined  to  act  for 
himself. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LEE  AT  NEW  YORK. 


235 


General  Lee,  who  was  at  that  time  in 
Connecticut,  had  written  a  letter  to  Wash 
ington,  in  which,  with  his  usual  emphatic 
earnestness,  he  said  :  "  New  York  must  be 
secured,  but  it  will  never.  I  am  afraid,  be 
secured  by  direct  order  of  Congress,  for 
obvious  reasons.  You  must  step  in  to 
their  relief.  I  am  sensible  no  man  can 
be  spared  from  the  lines  under  present 
circumstances;  but  I  would  propose  that 
you  should  detach  me  into  Connecticut, 
and  lend  your  name  for  collecting  a  body 
of  volunteers."  Lee  was  especially  anx 
ious  to  lay  his  hands  upon  the  "  danger 
ous  banditti  of  tories"  in  New  York,  who 
were  giving  great  countenance  and  aid 
to  the  enemy.  "  Not  to  crush,"  said  he, 
"  these  serpents  before  their  rattles  are 
grown,  would  be  ruinous." 

Lee's  proposition  accorded  with  Wash 
ington's  views,  but  he  was  anxious  not  to 
overstep  his  authority,  and  therefore  hesi 
tated  to  act  until  he  had  consulted  with 
John  Adams,  who  highly  approved  of  the 
plan,  "  as  practicable,  expedient,  and  as 
properly  lying  within  his  excellency's  au 
thority  without  farther  directions  from 
Congress."  Washington  accordingly  or 
dered  Lee  to  raise  a  volunteer  force  in 
Connecticut,  to  march  to  New  York,  and, 
with  the  aid  of  the  New-Jersey  troops, 
under  Lord  Sterling,  to  put  the  city  and 
its  immediate  neighborhood  in  a  posture 
of  defence.  Lee  was,  moreover,  author 
ized  to  disarm  or  secure  that  "  dangerous 
banditti  of  tories"  whom  he  so  cordially 
hated. 

With  the  aid  of  Governor  Trumbull, 
Lee  soon  gathered  together  the  respect 
able  force  of  twelve  hundred  men,  and 


marched  to  Stamford.  There  he  was  met 
by  a  communication  from  the  New  York 
committee  of  safety,  who  expressed  a  very 
decided  aversion  to  his  entering  the  city, 
lest  it  might  provoke  hostility  on  the  part 
of  the  British  ships-of-war  in  the  harbor. 
Lee  replied  with  unusual  suavity,  which 
was  the  more  remarkable,  as  he  was  at 
the  time  suffering  from  a  fit  of  the  gout. 
Toward  the  end  of  his  letter,  however, 
there  is  a  very  perceptible  spasm  of  dis 
ease  or  temper.  "If  the  ships-of-war," 
growls  he,  "  are  quiet,  I  shall  be  quiet ; 
but  I  declare  solemnly,  that  if  they  make 
a  pretext  of  my  presence  to  fire  on  the 
town,  the  first  house  set  on  flames  by 
their  guns  shall  be  the  funeral-pile  of 
some  of  their  best  friends  !" 

Lee  got  to  New  York  as  soon  as  his 
gout  would  permit  him,  arriving  there 
just  two  hours  after  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  had  come  to  anchor  in 
the  lower  bay  with  the  Mercury  and  a 
transport-brig.  The  inhabitants  were  in 
a  state  of  great  alarm,  in  consequence  of 
two  such  belligerent  arrivals.  Though 
it  was  Sunday,  they  began  moving  away 
their  effects,  and  continued  to  do  so  the 
whole  night.  The  town  seemed  in  a  state 
of  convulsion  with  the  confusion  of  the 
hurried  exodus :  carts  were  going,  boats 
loading,  women  and  children  crying,  and 
distressed  voices  wrere  even  heard  along 
the  roads  in  the  dead  of  night.  Clinton, 
however,  soon  relieved  the  city's  fears, 
by  giving  out  that  his  object  was  merely 
a  visit  to  his  friend  Governor  Tryon,  who 
at  that  time  held  state  in  the  secure  quar 
ters  of  a  British  man-of-war  anchored  in 
the  North  river.  In  a  few  days,  Sir  Henry 


5236 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


sailed  away  to  North  Carolina,  and  left 
Lee  to  deal  with  the  tories. 

Lee  began  his  administration  with  an 
emphatic  menace,  by  declaring,  "  If  the 
men-of-war  set  one  house  on  fire  in  con 
sequence  of  my  coming,  I  will  chain  a 
hundred  of  their  friends  together  by  the 
neck,  and  make  the  house  their  funeral- 
pile  !" — "  He  would,"  says  Gordon,  "  in 
all  likelihood,  have  retaliated  in  some 
manner." 

The  American  commander  busied  him 
self  in  removing  the  cannon  on  the  Bat 
tery,  and  those  in  the  king's  store,  to  a 
place  of  safety,  notwithstanding  the  "per 
dition  to  the  city"  threatened  by  the  Brit 
ish  men-of-war.  They,  however,  withheld 
their  fire ;  the  naval  authorities  publish 
ing  a  "  pleasant  reason"  for  their  reserve, 
saying  that  as  it  was  evidently  Lee's  pur 
pose  to  bring  destruction  on  the  town, 
they  were  determined  not  to  indulge  him. 
Lee,  laughing  at  them  and  their  reasons, 
continued  his  work,  and,  after  removing 
the  cannon,  made  good  use  of  them  by 
planting  them  in  the  redoubts  and  breast 
works  which  he  erected  in  various  places 
about  New  York.  Besides,  he  ferreted 
out  his  old  enemies  the  tories,  and  ad 
ministered  to  them  one  of  his  "  tremen 
dous  oaths,"  which  led  Congress  to  resolve 
"  That  no  oath  by  way  of  test  be  imposed 
upon,  exacted,  or  required,  of  any  of  the 
inhabitants  of  these  colonies,  by  any  mil 
itary  officer."  Lee's  martial  law  was  not 
seldom  in  conflict  with  legislative  enact 
ment,  and  his  measures  were  too  often 
laid  with  gunpowder  not  to  startle  the 
timid  counsels  of  the  prudent.  He  wished 
to  pursue  a  very  high-handed  course  with 


all  in  opposition  to  the  patriot  cause;  and. 
justly  suspecting  that  the  friends  of  the 
enemy  were  especially  strong  in  New 
York,  he  was  particularly  anxious  to 
make  them  feel  the  weight  of  his  blow. 
Governor  Tryon.  in  consequence  of  his 
influence  upon  many  of  the  "  respectable" 
inhabitants  of  New  York,  was  extremely 
odious  to  Lee.  "  The  propensity,  or  ra 
ther  rage,  for  paying  court  to  this  great 
man,"  he  writes,  u  is  inconceivable.  They 
can  not  be  weaned  from  him.  We  must 
put  wormwood  on  his  paps,  or  they  will 
cry  to  suck,  as  they  are  in  their  second 
childhood  !"  Lee's  energetic  measures, 
however,  were  soon  checked  by  a  call  to 
duty  elsewhere. 

The  tories  were  not  confined  to  the 
city  ;  in  the  interior  of  the  province  they 
had  gathered  in  strong  force  at  the  call 
of  Sir  John  Johnson,  the  son  of  Sir  Wil 
liam,  renowned  in  the  French  war.  Sii 
John  had  succeeded  to  his  father's  estate 
on  the  Mohawk,  and  his  baronial  influence 
over  the  Highland  tenants  and  Indian  re 
tainers.  Fortifying  Johnson  hall,  he  was 
preparing,  it  was  believed,  to  set  out  with 
his  clansmen  and  savages  along  the  val 
ley  of  the  Mohawk,  with  the  view  of  for 
cing  submission  to  the  king's  authority. 
General  Schuyler,  having  kept  watch  of 
his  movements,  sent  word  to  Congress, 
which,  in  answer,  committed  to  him  the 
business  of  checking  Sir  John's  proposed 
enterprise.  There  being  no  troops  at  Al 
bany,  Schuyler  was  obliged  to  have  re 
course  to  thesub-committee  of  the  county, 
with  whose  aid  he  succeeded  in  raising 
some  seven  hundred  militia.  With  this 
force  he  commenced  his  march,  and  was 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SIR  JOHN  QUASHED. 


237 


gratified  to  find  that  such  was  the  enthu 
siasm  in  behalf  of  the  patriot  cause,  that 
he  had  not  gone  far  before  his  troops  were 
increased  by  volunteers  to  the  number  of 
three  thousand.  Even  Tryon  county,  sup 
posed  to  be  the  stronghold  of  the  tories, 
supplied  him  nine  hundred  men. 

As  Schuyler  proceeded  with  this  aug 
mented  force  to  Johnstown,  he  was  met 
by  a  deputation  from  the  Mohawks,  which 
addressed  him  in  magniloquent  Indian 
rhetoric,  and  haughtily  forbade  him  to 
advance  against  their  "father,"  Sir  John. 
Schuyler  replied  that  he  had  full  proof 
that  many  people  in  Johnstown  and  the 
neighborhood  thereof  had  for  a  consider 
able  time  past  made  preparations  to  carry 
into  execution  the  wicked  design  of  the 
king's  evil  counsellors.  "  We  have  no  ob 
jection,"  said  Schuyler  in  conclusion,  "nay 
we  wish,  that  you  and  your  warriors 
should  be  present  to  hear  what  we  shall 
propose  to  Sir  John  and  the  people  in 
and  about  Johnstown,  who  are  our  ene 
mies.  But  we  beg  of  you  to  tell  your 
warriors  that,  although  we  have  no  quar 
rel  with  them,  yet  if  we  should  be  under 
the  disagreeable  necessity  of  fighting  with 
our  enemies,  and  your  warriors  should 
join  them  and  fight  against  us,  that  we 
will  repel  force  by  force." 

The  Indian  chiefs  had  occasion,  on  en 
tering  the  American  camp,  and  casting 
their  wary  eyes  upon  the  large  number 
of  soldiers,  to  become  convinced  of  the 
force  of  Schuyler's  last  argument,  and  ac 
cordingly  when  they  replied,  meekly  said: 
"  Brother  Schuyler,  the  great  man, attend ! 
Everything  that  has  been  said  to  us,  broth 
er,  has  been  perfectly  agreeable  to  us." 


Schuyler  now  sent  a  letter  to  Sir  John 
Johnson,  requesting  a  meeting  with  him 
next  day,  and  assuring  him  that  he  and 
such  persons  as  he  might  choose  to  at 
tend  him  should  pass  safe  and  unmolest 
ed  to  and  from  the  place  appointed  for 
the  rendezvous.  Sir  John  accordingly 
met  the  general  about  sixteen  miles  from 
Schenectady,  when  Schuyler's  proposal 
having  been  submitted,  Johnson  asked 
until  the  following  day  for  time  to  an 
swer.  Schuyler  consented,  and  in  the 
meantime  advanced  his  troops  on  the 
frozen  Mohawk  to  within  four  miles  of 
Johnstown.  Sir  John's  response  now 
came,  but,  not  being  satisfactory,  Schuy 
ler  resolved  that  he  would  march  against 
the  Johnson  stronghold,  at  the  same  time 
informing  the  baronet  that  he  would  give 

o  O 

him  until  twelve  o'clock  at  night  to  re 
consider  his  answer.  Sir  John,  true  to 
time,  sent  in  precisely  at  that  hour  a  sat 
isfactory  reply.  He  agreed  to  deliver  up 
all  the  arms  and  military  stores  in  his 
possession,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
favorite  family  arms  which  Sir  John  was 
allowed,  at  his  own  request,  to  retain. 
He  pledged  himself  besides,  on  his  parole 
of  honor,  neither  to  take  up  arms  against 
America,  nor  to  move  in  the  county  be 
yond  certain  specified  limits.  His  follow 
ers  were,  of  course,  bound  by  similar  ob 
ligations. 

The  next  day  Schuyler  pro 
ceeded  to  Johnstown,  and  drew 
up  his  men  in  the  street,  when  Sir  John's 
Hio'hlanders,  some  two  or  three  hundred 

O  ' 

in  number,  marched  to  the  front  of  the 
lines  and  grounded  their  arms.  Schuy 
ler  then  dismissed  them  with  an  exhort  a 


Jan,  20, 


238 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


tion  strictly  to  observe  the  terms  of  their 
agreement,  and  to  refrain  from  all  acts  of 
hostility.  The  conduct  of  the  American 


general,  throughout  this  whole  transac 
tion,  was  highly  approved  by  Congress, 
and  applauded  by  the  patriots. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Patrick  Henry  in  the  Legislature  of  Virginia. — The  Virginian  Volunteers. — The  Culpepper  Corps. — The  Eattlesnake 
Device. — Lord  Dunmore's  Proceedings. — The  Fight  at  Great  Bridge. — Lord  Dunmore  retires  from  Norfolk. — The 
City  burned. — Description  of  Norfolk. — Plantations  laid  waste. — North  Carolina. — The  Manoeuvres  of  the  Tories. — 
IT  Donald  and  M'Leod. — Their  Highland  Followers. — General  Moore  and  the  Patriots. — MvDonald  retreats. — Moore 
pursues. — The  Battle  at  Moore' s-Creek  Bridge. — M'Leod  falls. — The  Enemy  put  to  Flight. — The  Spirit  in  South 
Carolina  and  Georgia. 


1775, 


"  THERE  is  no  longer  any  room 
for  hope.  If  we  wish  to  be  free ; 
if  we  wish  to  preserve  inviolate  those  in 
estimable  privileges  for  which  we  have 
been  so  long  contending  ;  if  we  mean  not 
basely  to  abandon  the  noble  struggle  in 
which  we  have  been  so  long  engaged,  and 
which  we  have  pledged  ourselves  never 
to  abandon  until  the  glorious  object  of 
our  contest  shall  be  obtained,  wre  must 
fight !  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must  fight !  An 
appeal  to  arms  and  the  God  of  hosts  is 
all  that  is  left  us."  These  were  the  words 
uttered  by  Patrick  Henry,  in  the  course 
of  his  eloquent  speech  in  support  of  the 
resolutions  he  introduced  in  the  Virginia 
legislature,  recommending  a  levy  of  vol 
unteer  troops:  the  resolutions  were  passed 
by  a  large  majority.  The  appointment 
of  a  committee  of  safety  followed,  which 
at  once  proceeded  to  raise  an  armed  force, 
of  which  Patrick  Henry  was  made  com- 
mander-in-chief.  Volunteers  came  in  read 
ily,  among  whom  was  a  corps  of  men  from 
the  county  of  Culpepper,  whose  appear 
ance  gave  promise  of  doughty  service. 


Dressed  in  green  hunting-shirts,  like  so 
many  Eobin-Hood  foresters,  with  bucks' 
tails  in  their  slouched  hats,  and  with  tom 
ahawks  and  scalping-knives  bristling  from 
their  belts,  their  very  looks  frightened 
the  people.*  Their  flag,  with  the  device 
of  a  coiled  rattlesnake,  and  the  motto, 
"  Don't  tread  on  me  !"  and  the  inscription 
on  the  bosom  of  each  man's  shirt,  of  "Lib 
erty  or  death,"  taken  from  Henry's  speech, 
were  no  less  alarming.  These  Culpepper 
men  proved  themselves  no  less  formida 
ble  than  they  looked. 

Lord  Dunmore,  the  governor  of  Vir 
ginia,  had  been  frightened  away  from 
Williamsburg,  the  seat  of  government,  by 

*  "  Companies  were  raised  in  nearly  every  county  ;  among 
the  rest,  in  Culpepper,  adjoining  Fauquier.  This  troop, 
which  was  three  hundred  and  iifty  strong,  assembled  near 
an  old  oak,  which  is  still  standing  ;  and  Colonel  Thomas 
Marshall  was  elected  major.  His  son  John  was  made  lieu 
tenant.  The  flag  of  the  troop  presented  a  coiled  rattlesnake 
— the  head  for  Virginia,  and  the  twelve  rattles  for  the  other 
states:  the  mottoes,  'DON'T  TREAD  ON  ME!'  and  'LIBER 
TY  OR  DEATH  !'  These  latter  words  were  also  painted  upon 
the  breasts  of  the  green  hunting-shirts  of  the  company.  Tne 
men  were  armed  with  rifles,  tomahawks,  and  knives.  Such 
WHS  the  warlike  guise  in  which  the  afterward  famous  chief 
justice  appeared  at  the  head  of  his  ardent  troop." — JOHN 
ESTEN  COOKE. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  GREAT  BRIDGE. 


the  energetic  conduct  of  the  patriots,  and 
taken  refuge  on  board  of  a  ship-of-war. 
Arming  several  vessels,  and  collecting  to 
gether  a  number  of  tories  and  negroes, 
lie  determined  to  inflict  punishment  up 
on  the  "  rebels."  He  sailed  with  this  force 
along  the  coast,  doing  all  the  damage  in 
his  power,  seizing  here  and  there  a  patri 
ot,  destroying  plantations,  carrying  off 
negroes,  and  burning  houses.  Having 
received  a  reinforcement  of  soldiers,  he 
prepared  to  make  an  attempt  on  Hamp 
ton.  His  vessels,  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  warped  in  close  to  the  town,  and 
in  the  mgrning  began  a  furious  cannon 
ade.  A  company  of  the  Culpepper  rifle 
men  had  in  the  meantime  reached  Hamp 
ton,  and,  being  properly  dispersed  and 
hid,  commenced  firing  at  the  ships,  and 
with  such  effect,  that  the  enemy  were 
forced  to  haul  off  precipitately,  for  no 
man  who  ventured  to  show  himself  on 
deck  was  secure  from  the  deadly  aim  of 
the  Virginia  marksmen. 

Dunmore  was  terribly  vexed  at  being 
thus  repulsed  by  a  few  raw  militiamen, 
and  took  his  revenge  by  proclaiming  mar 
tial  law,  requiring  all  persons  capable  of 
bearing  arms  to  resort  to  his  majesty's 
standard,  or  to  be  looked  upon  as  trai 
tors  ;  and  declaring  all  indentured  ser 
vants,  negroes,  or  others  (appertaining  to 
"  rebels"),  who  were  able  and  willing  to 
bear  arms,  free,  upon  serving  with  the 
royal  troops.  Dunmore  was  at  this  time 
at  Norfolk,  where  there  were  a  goodly 
number  of  tories,  and  his  proclamation 
brought  some  hundreds  of  them,  both 
black  and  white,  to  his  standard.  With 
this  miscellaneous  rabble  added  to  his 


two  hundred  regulars,  he  prepared  to 
meet  a  force  of  Virginian  patriots  who 
were  rapidly  advancing  to  drive  him  from 
Norfolk. 

His  lordship's  first  operation  was,  to 
take  possession  and  remove  the  planks 
of  the  Great  bridge,  which  was  the  only 
approach  to  the  town  ;  and  then,  with  the 
utmost  expedition,  he  began  building  a 
redoubt  on  the  Norfolk  side.  He  had 
not  made  much  progress  when  the  Vir 
ginians  arrived,  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Woodford,  who  took  up  a  posi 
tion  at  the  other  end  of  the  bridge,  at 
cannon-shot  distance  from  Dunmore,  and 
began  throwing  up  intrenchments.  The 
two  parties  thus  remained  for  several 
days,  busy  at  their  works,  without  firing 
a  shot,  when  the  Virginians,  becoming 
impatient,  resolved  to  provoke  an  attack. 
For  this  purpose  they  availed  themselves 
of  a  ruse.  A  servant  belonging  to  one 
of  the  Virginian  officers  was  directed  to 
join  Dunmore's  force,  as  a  pretended  de 
serter,  and  report  that  the  patriots  only 
numbered  three  hundred  "  shirtmen"  (so 
the  riflemen  were  called  from  their  hunt 
ing-dress)  in  all.  The  negro  performed 
his  part  admirably  ;  and  the  enemy,  swal 
lowing  the  bait,  determined  to  attack  the 
patriots  in  their  intrenchments. 

The  British  regulars,  under  Captain 
Leslie,  were  accordingly  detailed  for  the 
service,  together  with  about  three  hun 
dred  "  white  and  black  slaves."  The  party 
set  out  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
in  order  to  take  the  Virginians  by  sur 
prise  before  dawn.  Leslie,  having  re 
placed  the  planks  of  the  Great  bridge, 
marched  his  men  across,  with  Captain  For- 


240 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


dyce,  at  the  head  of  his  grenadiers,  lead 
ing  the  van.  The  regulars,  with  fixed 
bayonets,  advanced  steadily  along  the 
causeway  directly  up  to  the  American 
intrenchments.  The  Virginian  riflemen, 
however,  were  on  the  alert,  and,  waiting 
until  the  enemy  were  close  to  them,  be 
gan  a  murderous  fire,  by  which  Fordyce 
and  several  of  his  men  were  at  once  killed. 
The  grenadiers  held  their  ground  with  a 
coolness  and  intrepidity  that  excited  the 
admiration  of  all ;  and  such  was  their  dis 
cipline,  that  they  continued  to  advance 
until  not  one  of  them  escaped  either  death 
or  capture.  Leslie,  who  was  in  the  rear 
with  the  main  body,  now  ordered  a  re 
treat,  when  the  whole  of  the  British  force 
retired  to  their  fort  under  the  cover  of 
its  guns,  having  lost  sixty-two  men  killed 
and  wounded.  The  Virginians  did  not 
lose  a  single  man,  and  had  only  one  slight 
ly  wounded.  Captain  Fordyce  was  buried 
with  the  honors  due  to  his  rank  and  gal 
lantry ;  and  all  the  prisoners,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  the  American  royalists,  who 
were  rigorously  dealt  with,  were  treated 
kindly  by  their  captors.  The  British 
forces  retired  during  the  next  night  with 
in  Norfolk.  Leslie  now  refused  to  serve 
any  longer  on  shore,  until  assured  of  a 
better  support  from  the  tory  inhabitants  ; 
and  the  loyalists,  both  white  and  black, 
on  their  part  declined  to  serve,  unless 
aided  by  a  stronger  reinforcement  of  reg 
ulars.  Under  these  discouraging  circum 
stances,  Lord  Durnnore  determined  to 
abandon  his  position  at  Norfolk. 

The    Virginians    entered    the 
city  as  the  British  withdrew,  and 
found  that  the  tory  inhabitants  had  gone 


Dec,  14, 


1776, 


on  board  the  English  ships,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  the  poor  negroes,  who  had  been 
left  to  shift  for  themselves.  Colonel  Wood- 
ford  now  resigned  the  command  of  the 
provincials  to  Colonel  Howe,  who  re 
mained  in  possession  of  Norfolk  until  the 
beginning  of  the  ensuing  year. 

Lord  Dunmore  was  still  \vith  his 
ships  in  Hampton  roads,  unable  to 
effect  anything  until  the  arrival,  on  the 
first  of  January,  of  the  British  frigate  Liv 
erpool.  A  flag  of  truce  was  then  imme 
diately  sent  into  the  town,  with  a  demand 
for  supplies.  These  being  positively  re 
fused,  Dunmore  determined  to, bombard 
and  set  fire  to  Norfolk,  where  the  Vir 
ginia  riflemen,  under  cover  of  the  ware 
houses  by  Elizabeth  river,  were  continuing 
greatly  to  harass  the  ships  by  their  sharp- 
shooting.  Notice  having  been  given  to 
the  inhabitants,  that  they  might  have  an 
opportunity  of  removing  the  women  and 
children  from  danger,  the  British  vessels 
began  their  cannonade,  while  parties  of 
sailors  and  marines  were  sent  ashore  to 
set  fire  to  the  buildings  by  the  water's 
edge.  The  whole  town,  which  was  built 
of  wood,  was  soon  in  flames  and  reduced 
to  ashes,  notwithstanding  every  exertion 
made  by  Howe  and  his  men  to  extinguish 
the  fire. 

Norfolk  at  that  time  was  a  place  of 
great  importance,  having  a  population  of 
six  thousand,  and  a  thriving  commerce. 
It  was  thought  to  be  "  an  odious  business 
for  a  governor  to  be  himself  a  principal 
actor  in  burning  and  destroying  the  best 
town  in  his  government,"  and  great  in 
dignation  was  excited  in  consequence 
throughout  the  province.  The  patriots 


REVOLUTIONARY.! 


DUNMORE  PUT  TO  FLIGHT. 


were  able  greatly  to  harass  his  lordship, 
in  revenge  for  his  cruelty,  by  cutting  off 
supplies  from  the  ships.  The  plantations 
along  the  Norfolk  shore  were  laid  waste  ; 
and  their  proprietors,  who  were  chiefly 
loyalists,  were  forced  to  retire  into  the 
interior  with  their  stock  and  stores  of 
provisions,  so  that  they  might  not  have 
it  in  their  power  to  supply  the  necessi 
ties  of  the  British.  Dunmore  was  thus 
driven  away  from  Norfolk;  and,  after  con 
tinuing  his  depredations  upon  the  banks 
of  the  southern  rivers  and  coast  and  car 
rying  off  some  thousand  negroes,  he  be 
took  himself  with  his  piratical  fleet  to  St. 
Augustine,  in  the  then  Spanish  province 
of  Florida. 

In  North  Carolina,  the  patriots  were 
emulating  the  spirit  of  their  Virginian 
brethren.  The  British  governor,  Martin, 
had  been  early  forced,  like  Lord  Dun- 
more,  to  seek  refuge  on  board  a  man-of- 
war,  where  for  the  most  part  he  had  been 
obliged  to  content  himself  with  the  proc 
lamation,  without  the  exercise,  of  his  au 
thority.  Learning,  however,  that  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  had  sailed  for  North  Car 
olina,  and  that  an  expedition  was  to  be 
sent  out  from  Great  Britain  probably  for 
the  same  destination,  Martin  took  cour 
age,  and  began  to  intrigue  with  the  Scotch 
settlers  in  the  western  districts  of  the 
province,  who  were  known  to  be  favora 
bly  disposed  to  the  crown.  Among  these 
were  a  large  number  of  Highlanders,  and 
Martin  selected  two  gentlemen  among 
them,  who  had  been  British  officers,  of 
the  names  of  M'Donald  and  M'Leod,  and 
gave  them  commissions,  with  authority 
to  raise  a  body  of  troops.  These  two  per- 

31 


sons  had  not  been  long  in  the  country 
but  their  names  were  enough  to  excite 
all  the  clannish  predilections  of  the  High 
landers,  who  gathered  as  if  rallying  about 
their  chieftains  among  their  native  hills, 
and  enrolled  themselves  to  the  number  of 
sixteen  hundred  under  the  royal  stand 
ard,  which  they  regarded  little,  except  as 
unfurled  by  a  M'Donald  and  a  M'Leod. 

The  North  Carolina  patriots  were  on 
the  alert;  and  General  Moore,  assembling 
some  eleven  hundred  militiamen,marched 
to  meet  the  enemy.  Coining  up  within 
seven  miles  of  the  "  Regulators,"  as  they 
were  called,  and  the  Highlanders,  who 
were  encamped  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Cross  creek  (now  Fayette ville ),  which  was 
in  the  midst  of  those  Scotch  settlers  who 
were  favorably  disposed  toward  the  king, 
Moore  halted  in  a  strong  position.  The 
enemy  then  advanced  within  four  miles, 
and  sent  in  to  the  patriots  with  a  flag  of 
truce  one  of  the  governor's  manifestoes, 
and  a  letter  to  their  general,  summoning 
him  to  join  the  royal  standard  or  be  treat 
ed  as  an  enemy.  Moore,  in  his  answer, 
declined  the  proposition  for  the  present, 
but  promised  a  more  specific  reply  on  the 
next  day.  M'Donald,  in  command  of  the 
royalist  force,  received  accordingly,  the 
following  morning,  Moore's  promised  let 
ter,  in  which  the  American  general,  as  a 
significant  offset  to  the  Scotchman's  sum 
mons,  called  upon  him  to  sign  the  patri 
otic  association  of  the  province. 

While  Moore  was  expecting  a  rejoin 
der  to  his  communication,  he  learned  that 
M'Donald,  without  waiting  to  indite  a  re 
ply,  had  crossed  the  river  in  the  night, 
and  pushed  on  rapidly  toward  the  coast. 


242 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  It. 


Moore,  after  ordering  off  a  detachment 
LO  join  the  approaching  reinforcements  of 
eight  hundred  militia  which  were  coming 
from  Newbern,  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  Caswell,  and  another  party  to  se 
cure  the  ford  of  Cross  creek,  marched  him 
self  in  pursuit.  The  Newbern  militia  for 
tunately  reached  Moore's-creek  bridge  in 
time  to  take  possession  of  it,  and  oppose 
the  retreat  of  the  royalist  force. 

The  Americans,  however,  had  held  pos 
session  only  a  few  hours,  during  which 
time  they  had  destroyed  a  portion  of  the 
bridge,  and  raised  a  small  breast 
work,  when  the  enemy  came  up. 
M'Leod,  who  was  now  in  command,  in 
consequence  of  the  illness  of  M'Donald, 
no  sooner  saw  that  his  progress  was  op 
posed,  than  he  led  his  men  at  once  against 
the  American  works.  They  marched  up 
within  thirty  paces,  when  they  were  met 
by  a  well-served  fire  from  the  American 
breastwork.  Captain  M'Leod  fell  at  the 
first  volley,  pierced  with  twenty  bullets, 


Feb.  27, 


and  his  troops  immediately  took  to  flight. 
Even  McDonald's  influence  could  not  suc 
ceed  in  rallying  them  ;  and  he,  complete 
ly  abandoned,  was  forced  to  surrender 
himself  a  prisoner.  General  Moore,  com 
ing  up  soon  after,  confronted  the  fugi 
tives,  and  took  nearly  nine  hundred  of 
them  captive.  The  royalists  lost  about 
seventy  killed  and  wounded ;  the  patri 
ots  only  two  wounded.  A  good  supply 
of  arms  also  fell  into  the  possession  of 
the  conquerors. 

In  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  little 
was  done  in  the  way  of  active  hostility 
as  yet  by  the  patriots,  beyond  the  seizure 
of  an  occasional  vessel.  There  was,  how 
ever,  sufficient  evidence  of  a  resolute  spir 
it  of  resistance  ;  and  in  the  course  of  this 
narrative  we  shall  have  occasion  to  record 
abundant  proofs  that  the  southern  no  less 
than  the  northern  provinces  were  willing 
and  able  to  strike  a  blow  for  the  liberties 
of  the  country.  We  must  now  return  to 
Washington  and  his  camp  at  Cambridge. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Everything  thaws  but  "Old  Put." — An  Assault  on  Boston  proposed,  but  rejected  by  the  Council  of  War. — Arrival  of 
Knox  from  Ticonderoga,  with  an  Abundant  Supply  of  Ammunition,  &c. — The  taking  Possession  of  Dorchester 
Heights  proposed. — Morals  of  the  Camp  protected. — Bombardment  of  Boston. — Expedition  for  Dorchester  sets  out. 
— The  Enemy  oppose,  and  are  defeated.  —  Great  Preparations  of  Lord  Howe. — A  Storm. — The  Attack  postponed. — A 
New  Missile  invented.  — Howe  at  last  acknowledges  the  Position  of  Dorchester  Heights  to  be  too  formidable  for  him. 
—He  prepares  to  evacuate  Boston. — A  Flag  of  Truce. — A  Communication  from  the  Selectmen  of  Boston. — Attempt 
on  Nook's  Hill. — A  Terrible  Cannonade. 


"THE  bay  is  open.     Everything 

thaws  here  except '  Old  Put.'     He 

is  still  as  hard  as  ever,  crying  out  for 

'powder,  powder!  ye  gods,  give  us  pow 


der!'"  wrote  an  officer.  And  Washing 
ton,  too,  had  his  complaints  to  make  on 
the  same  score.  "The  weather," he  writes, 
"  turns  out  exceedingly  mild,  insomuch 


KEY  OLDTION  AK  Y.j 


FORTIFYING  DORCHESTER  HEIGHTS. 


24, 


Fcb,  16. 


as  to  promise  nothing  favorable  from  ice. 
. . .  And  no  appearance  of  powder."  To 
ward  the  middle  of  February,  however, 
some  "  freezing  weather"  having  formed 
"  some  pretty  strong  ice,"  which  afforded 
a  wider  and  consequently  less  dangerous 
approach  to  Boston,  Washington  was  in 
favor  of  an  assault,  notwithstanding  the 
militia  were  not  all  come  in,  and  there 
was  little  or  no  powder  for  a  regular  can 
nonade  or  bombardment.  A  council  of 
war  was  accordingly  summoned, 
but  the  enterprise  being  thought 
too  dangerous,  it  was  abandoned  for  the 
present. 

A  few  days  subsequently,  Colonel  Knox 
arrived  in  the  camp  with  a  welcome  sup 
ply  of  cannon,  mortars,  and  howitzers, 
which  that  spirited  officer  had  succeeded, 
in  the  depth  of  a  northern  winter,  in  bring 
ing  from  Crown  Point  and  Ticonderoga. 
By  means  of  sleds,  and  with  the  utmost 
labor,  Knox  dragged  for  hundreds  of 
miles  through  the  drifted  snows  and  over 
the  frozen  lakes  an  armament  of  immense 
wreight,  "  a  noble  train  of  artillery,"  as  he 
called  it,  and  safely  deposited  it  at  Cain- 
bridge,  where  he  received,  as  he  well  mer 
ited,  the  praises  of  the  commander-in-chief 
and  the  applause  of  the  whole  army.  Si 
multaneously  with  this  acquisition  came 
a  supply  of  shells  and  powder,  captured 
from  the  enemy.  The  militia  had  come 
in,  too, in  considerable  force.  Under  these 
prosperous  circumstances,  the  council  of 
war  was  at  last  so  far  inspirited  as  to  de 
cide  upon  action.  It  was  resolved  that 
Dorchester  heights  should  be  taken  pos 
session  of  as  soon  as  possible,  with  the 
view  of  drawing  the  enemy  out. 


"  How  far,"  wrote  Washington,  who  had 
suggested  this  movement,  "  our  expecta 
tions  may  be  answered,  time  only  can  de 
termine  ;  but  I  should  think,  if  anything 
w7ill  induce  them  to  hazard  an  engage 
ment,  it  will  be  our  attempt  to  fortify  these 
heights  [Dorchester];  as,  that  event's  ta 
king  place,  we  shall  be  able  to  command 
a  great  part  of  the  town  and  almost  the 
whole  harbor."  Great  activity  and  ani 
mation  now  pervaded  the  camp.  Carts 
loaded  with  in  trenching- tools,  carts  with 
fascines  and  huge  bundles  of  hay,  went 
by  the  hundreds  lumbering  along  the 
roads,  flanked  by  guards  and  followed  by 
detachment  after  detachment  of  working- 
parties;  the  surgeons  and  surgeons' mates 
throughout  the  army  were  busy  in  pre 
paring  lint  and  bandages ;  of  the  latter 
two  thousand  had  been  ordered,  although 
a  sanguine  member  of  the  medical  depart 
ment  expresses  the  hope  that  "  not  one 
quarter  of  the  number  will  be  required, 
whatever  may  be  the  nature  of  the  occa 
sion."  To  add  to  the  seriousness  of  the 
approaching  events,  the  soldiers  were  re 
minded  of  their  duty  by  these  severely 
earnest  orders,  which  could  only  have 
been  addressed  with  effect  to  men  like 
those  of  Washington,  fighting  for  con 
science  sake  :— 

"All  officers,"  rigidly  declares  the  or 
der,  "non-commissioned  officers,  and  sol 
diers,  are  positively  forbid  playing  at 
cards,  and  other  games  of  chance.  At 
this  time  of  public  distress,  men  may  find 
enough  to  do  in  the  service  of  their  God 
and  their  country,  without  abandoning 
themselves  to  vice  and  immorality. 

"As  the  season  is  now  fast  approaching 


244 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


when  every  man  must  expect  to  be  drawn 
into  the  field  of  action,  it  is  highly  impor 
tant  that  he  should  prepare  his  mind,  as 
well  as  everything  necessary  for  it.  It 
is  a  noble  cause  we  are  engaged  in ;  it  is 
the  cause  of  virtue  and  mankind ;  every 
temporal  advantage  and  comfort  to  us 
and  our  posterity  depends  upon  the  vigor 
of  our  exertions ;  in  short,  freedom  or 
slavery  must  be  the  result  of  our  conduct. 
There  can,  therefore,  be  no  greater  in 
ducement  to  men  to  behave  well.  But 
it  may  not  be  amiss  for  the  troops  to 
know  that,  if  any  man  in  action  shall  pre 
sume  to  skulk,  hide  himself,  or  retreat 
from  the  enemy  without  the  orders  of  his 
commanding  officer,  he  will  be  instantly 
shot  down  as  an  example  of  cowardice ; 
cowards  having  too  frequently  disconcert 
ed  the  best-formed  troops  by  their  das 
tardly  behavior." 

A  night  was  now  appointed  for  the  at 
tempt  on  Dorchester  heights.  The  time, 
at  the  suggestion  of  the  New-England 
officers,  was  the  4th  of  March ;  the  next 
day,  which  probably  would  be  the  day 
of  action,  being  the  anniversary  of  the 
"  massacre  of  Boston,"  which,  it  was  be 
lieved,  would  stimulate  by  its  memories 
the  courage  of  the  Massachusetts  troops. 

For  two  days  previously,  the  Ameri 
cans  bombarded  Boston,  but  with  no  ef 
fect  on  the  enemy,  beyond  splintering  a 
few  of  their  wooden  buildings  and  wound 
ing  a  soldier  or  two.  The  Americans 
themselves,  however,  met  with  a  serious 
loss  in  the  bursting  of  two  heavy  mortars, 
one  of  which  was  the  big  gun  the  "  Con 
gress,"  Old  Put's  christling.  The  bom 
bardment,  notwithstanding,  had  the  effect 


intended,  of  concealing  from  the  enemy 
the  preparations  for  taking  possession  of 
Dorchester  heights.  General  Howe,  not 
suspicious  of  anything  more  serious,  con 
tented  himself  with  responding  to  the 
American  fire,  and  threw  a  shower  of 
bombs,  but  fortunately  without  serious 
damage. 

All  things  being  ready,  the  expedition 
sets  out  for  Dorchester  on  the  night  ap 
pointed.  The  covering-party  of 
eight  hundred  men  lead  the  way ; 
then  go  the  carts  with  the  intrenching- 
tools,  followed  by  the  working-detach 
ment  of  twelve  hundred  men,  under  Gen 
eral  Thomas;  while  the  rear  of  the  pro 
cession  is  closed  by  a  long  train  of  more 
than  three  hundred  carts  laden  with  fas 
cines  and  bundles  of  hay,  and  dragged 
by  oxen.  The  bundles  of  hay  are  de 
signed  for  Dorchester  neck,  which  is  very 
low,  and  exposed  to  be  raked  by  the  en 
emy  on  one  side,  where  accordingly  they 
are  to  be  laid  to  cover  the  Americans  in 
passing  and  repassing.  "  Every  man," 
says  Gordon,  who  describes  the  whole  af 
fair  quaintly  yet  graphically,  "  knows  his 
place  and  business.  The  covering-party, 
when  upon  the  ground,  divides;  half  goes 
to  the  point  nearest  to  Boston,  the  other 
to  that  next  to  the  castle.  All  possible 
silence  is  observed.  But  there  is  no  oc 
casion  to  order  the  whips  to  be  taken 
from  the  wagoners,  lest  their  impatience 
and  the  difficulty  of  the  roads  should  in 
duce  them  to  make  use  of  them,  and  oc 
casion  an  alarm.  The  whips  used  by  the 
drivers  of  these  ox-carts  are  not  formed 
for  making  much  noise,  and  can  give  no 
alarm  at  a  distance.  The  men  in  driving 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


AN  ASSAULT 


245 


their  oxen  commonly  make  most  noise 
with  their  voices ;  and  now  a  regard  to 
their  own  safety  dictates  to  them  to  speak 
to  their  cattle,  as  they  move  on,  in  a  whis 
pering  note. 

"  There  are  no  bad  roads  to  require  an 
exertion ;  for  the  frost  having  been  of 
long  continuance,  they  are  so  hard  frozen 
as  to  be  quite  good.  The  wind  lies  to 
carry  what  noise  can  not  be  avoided  in 
driving  the  stakes,  and  picking  against 
the  ground  (still  frozen  above  eighteen 
inches  deep  in  many  places),  into  the  har 
bor  between  the  town  and  the  castle,  so 
that  it  can  not  be  heard  and  regarded  by 
any  who  do  not  suspect  what  is  going  on, 
especially  as  there  is  a  continued  cannon 
ade  on  both  sides.  Many  of  the  carts 
make  three  trips,  some  four ;  for  a  vast 
quantity  of  materials  has  been  collected, 
especially  chandeliers  and  fascines. 

"  By  ten  o'clock  at  night  the  troops 
have  raised  two  forts,  one  upon  each  hill, 
sufficient  to  defend  them  from  small-arms 
and  grape-shot.  The  night  is  remarka 
bly  mild;  a  finer  for  working  could  not 
have  been  selected  out  of  the  three  hun 
dred  and  sixty-five.  They  continue  work 
ing  with  the  utmost  diligence  until  re 
lieved  at  three  o'clock  next  morning.  It 
is  so  hazy  below  the  heights,  that  the  men 
can  not  be  seen,  though  it  is  a  bright 
moonlight  night  above  on  the  hills. 

"  It  is  some  time  after  daybreak  before 
the  ministerialists  in  Boston  can  clearly 
discern  the  new-erected  forts.  They  loom 
to  great  advantage,  and  are  thought  to 
be  much  larger  than  is  really  the  case. 
General  Howe  is  astonished  upon  seeing 
what  has  been  done ;  scratches  his  head, 


and  is  heard  to  say:  'I  know  nci:  what  I 
shall  do ;  the  rebels  have  done  more  in 
one  night  than  my  whole  army  would 
have  done  in  months  !'  " 

Washington  felt  confident  that  this 
movement  of  his  troops  would  bring  on 
an  attack  from  the  enemy ;  and  he  pre 
pared  in  case  of  this  event — which  he 
not  only  supposed  probable,  but  eagerly 
hoped  for — to  make  an  assault,  while  the 
British  should  be  engaged  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Dorchester  heights,  on  another 
part  of  Boston  to  the  west.  He  had  ac 
cordingly  ordered  four  thousand  picked 
troops  to  be  in  readiness  to  embark  on 
forty-five  batteaux  which  had  been  pre 
pared  for  the  purpose,  and  were  moored 
at  the  mouth  of  Charles  river,  under  the 
cover  of  two  floating  batteries.  These 
troops  were  formed  in  two  divisions : 
General  Sullivan  leads  the  first,  General 
Greene  the  second ;  and  all  are  under  the 
general  command  of  Putnam. 

The  whole  plan  of  defence  and  offence 
has  been  settled  by  Washington.  Every 
movement  of  the  enemy  is  watched :  from 
the  hills,  which  command  a  view  of  Bos 
ton,  the  officers  can  observe  with  their 
glasses  everything  that  takes  place  in  the 
city  which  lies  below  them.  Proper  sig 
nals  are  arranged,  by  which  intelligence 
can  be  rapidly  communicated  from  height 
to  height — from  Dorchester  to  Roxbury, 
and  from  Roxbury  to  Cambridge.  The 
boats  being  prepared,  and  the  troops  in 
readiness  to  embark,  Washington  is  on 
the  alert,  when  the  enemy  attack  the 
American  position  on  Dorchester  heights, 
and  are  defeated,  to  signalize  to  Putnam 
to  send  his  four  thousand  men  across  from 


246 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


Cambridge  to  assault  the  city,  while  the 
British  are  in  a  state  of  confusion  from 
their  expected  repulse. 

All  is  hurry  and  bustle  in  Boston.  Gen 
eral  Howe  is  collecting  all  the  ladders  in 
town,  and  having  them  cut  to  the  proper 
length  for  scaling.  A  large  body  of  troops 
is  drawn  up  by  the  water-side ;  and  the 
transportrvessels  are  weighing  their  an 
chors,  in  readiness  to  receive  them.  The 
men  finally  embark  ;  an  observer  reports 
that  most  look  pale  and  dejected,  and 
some  are  heard  to  say,  with  a  sad  pre 
sentiment,  "It  will  be  another  Bunker's- 
hill  affair,  or  worse !"  while  others,  in  a 
spirit  of  bravado,  talk  of  how  they  intend 
"  to  serve  the  rebels."  The  gallant  Lord 
Percy  commands  the  force,  and  all  seems 
read}''  for  the  attack. 

The  Americans,  as  they  behold  this 
movement  of  the  British  troops,  clap 

their  hands  for  joy,  and  "  wish 
March  5.  JnJ> 

them  to  come  on.      Washington 

is  on  the  heights,  and  says  to  those  about 
him,  "  Remember  it  is  the  5th  of  March, 
and  avenge  the  death  of  your  brethren  !" 
— "What  says  the  general  ?"  eagerly  in 
quire  those  who  had  not  distinctly  heard 
his  words.  "  Remember  it  is  the  5th  of 
March,  and  avenge  the  death  of  your 
brethren !"  is  repeated  in  answer,  and 
passed  rapidly  from  man  to  man,  until 
the  whole  body  of  troops  is  aroused  to 
martial  excitement,  as  by  an  electric 
flash. 

Crowds  of  people  gather  upon  the  sur 
rounding  hills,  and  with  hushed  lips  and 
beating  hearts  fearfully  await  the  com 
ing  struggle.  They  wait  and  wait  un 
til  the  evening,  straining  their  eyes  to 


catch,  if  possible,  through  the  gathering 
darkness,  the  approach  of  the  enemy. 
Night  closes;  the  tide  ebbs;  the  struggle 
is  put  off  until  another  day ;  the  specta 
tors  go  homeward,  with  sad  expectations 
of  the  morrow.  Mrs.  Adams  is  amon^ 

O 

these  anxious  beholders,  and  on  return 
ing  home,  before  retiring  for  the  night, 
writes  a  hurried  note  to  her  absent  hus 
band  :  "  I  have  just  returned,"  she  says, 
"  from  Penn's  hill,  where  I  have  been  sit 
ting  to  hear  the  amazing  roar  of  cannon, 
and  from  whence  I  could  see  every  shell 
which  was  thrown.  The  sound,  I  think, 
is  one  of  the  grandest  in  nature,  and  is  of 
the  true  species  of  the  sublime.  'Tis  now 
an  incessant  roar;  but  oh,  the  fatal  ideas 
which  are  connected  with  the  sound ! 
How  many  of  our  dear  countrymen  must 
fall !"  She  goes  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep, 
for  she  writes  on  the  following  morning : 
"  I  went  to  bed  about  twelve,  and  rose 
again  a  little  after  one.  I  could  no  more 
sleep  than  if  I  had  been  in  the  engage 
ment;  the  rattling  of  the  windows,  the 
jar  of  the  house,  the  continual  roar  of 
twenty-four  pounders,  and  the  bursting 
of  shells,  give  us  such  ideas,  and  realize 
a  scene  to  us  of  which  we  could  scarcely 
form  any  conception." 

The  troops  continue  their  work,  while 
the  whole  camp  is  on  the  alert  for  the 
call  of  duty  at  any  moment.  The  bom 
bardment  goes  on  from  both  sides  during 
the  whole  night.  The  British  transports 
and  floating  batteries  are  hauled  out  in 
the  night,  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  de 
barkation  of  the  troops  on  the  next  day; 
but,  in  attempting  to  make  their  way  to 
Castle  William,  their  rendezvous,  the  wind 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        EVACUATION  OF  BOSTON  RESOLVED  UPON. 


247 


proves  unfavorable,  and  blows  with  such 
a  gale,  that  three  of  the  vessels  are  driven 
ashore,  and  the  rest  are  obliged  to  return. 
The  gale  increases  to  a  storm  which  rages 
all  the  night  and  next  day,  while  torrents 
of  rain  keep  pouring  down.  The  attack 
is  postponed  once  more  ;  for,  with  the  vio 
lence  of  the  wind,  and  the  heavy  surf 
beating  against  the  shore,  it  is  in  vain  to 
attempt  to  land  the  troops. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Americans  con 
tinued  to  strengthen  their  fortifications. 
The  quartermaster-general,  Mifflin,  who 
had  the  supervision  of  the  work,  was  in 
defatigable  in  his  exertions.  Having 
brought  upon  the  ground  the  buildings 
already  framed,  he  had  the  men  in  three 
days  under  the  cover  of  fairly  comfortable 
barracks.  Moreover,  he  ingeniously  de 
vised  a  new  species  of  arms,  which  prom 
ised  to  prove  of  great  effect.  These  were 
barrels  filled  with  stones,  gravel,  and  sand, 
and  placed  round  the  works  in  readiness 
to  be  rolled  down  against  the  enemy,  in 
order  to  break  their  ranks  and  legs,  if 
they  should  venture  to  attempt  to  ad 
vance  up  the  hill. 

Another  day  passes,  and  the 
weather  continuing  unfavorable 
the  British  still  hold  back ;  and,  finally, 
giving  up  all  hopes  of  dislodging  the  pa 
triots  from  their  now  formidable  position 
on  Dorchester  heights,  they  determine 
to  evacuate  Boston.  Howe  had  no  other 
alternative.  The  last  spirited  and  effect 
ual  movement  of  the  Americans,  favored 
by  the  weather,  so  propitious  to  them 
and  so  fatal  to  their  enemy,  had  made 
the  town  untenable.  The  admiral  had 
told  Howe  that,  if  the  Americans  contin- 


Marcli  6, 


ued  in  possession  of  the  heights  of  Dor 
chester,  not  one  of  his  majesty's  ships 
could  be  kept  in  the  harbor;  and  Howe 
was  now  forced  to  admit  that  his  enemy 
was  too  formidable  to  be  dislodged.  The 
British  army,  thus  hemmed  in,  was  use 
less  for  offence,  and  would  soon  be  inca 
pable  of  defence  ;  the  fleet,  thus  exposed, 
was  in  hourly  danger,  and  could  only 
save  itself  by  sailing  away. 

Howe  had  long  been  in  favor  of  remo 
ving  the  scene  of  hostilities  from  Boston 
to  New  York,  but  had  never  expressed 
a  doubt  of  the  safety  of  his  army  in  its 
present  position.  He  had,  in  fact,  in  his 
despatch  to  the  British  government,  de 
clared,  "  We  are  not  under  the  least  ap 
prehension  of  an  attack  upon  this  place 
from  the  rebels,  by  surprise  or  otherwise." 
So  far  was  he  from  having  any  fears  on 
that  score,  that  he  expresses  the  wish  that 
"  they  would  attempt  so  rash  a  step,  and 
quit  those  strong  intrenchments  to  which 
they  may  attribute  their  present  safety." 
He  had  felt  perfectly  secure,  and  had  de 
termined  to  take  his  own  good  time,  when 
the  spring  had  fairly  advanced,  and  rein 
forcements  had  come  in  from  Great  Brit 
ain,  in  shifting  the  scene  of  war  from  Mas 
sachusetts  to  a  southern  province.  On 
the  morning  when  those  works  on  Dor 
chester  heights  —  which  had  been  raised 
in  a  single  night,  "  with  an  expedition," 
as  a  British  officer  wrote,  "  equal  to  that 
of  the  genii  belonging  to  Aladdin's  won 
derful  lamp" — struck  the  astonished  eyes 
of  Howe,  he  felt  for  the  first  some  "ap 
prehension"  of  the  "rebels."  When,  more 
over,  Nature  herself  seemed  to  join  the 
Americans,  and  he  was  baffled  by  the 


248 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


winds  and  storms  in  his  only  hope  of  tri 
umph,  he  wisely  submitted  to  his  misfor- 
t une,  and  judiciously  giving  up  all  thought 
of  victory,  sought  only  a  means  of  escape. 

Great  preparations  were  now  made  in 
Boston,  evidently  for  departure.  The 
transports  were  preparing  for  sea  with 
the  utmost  expedition.  There  was  the 
greatest  movement  and  confusion  among 
the  troops.  Night  and  day  they  were 
hurrying  down  their  cannon,  ammunition, 
and  stores,  to  the  wharves.  Such  was  the 
haste  with  which  they  were  loading  the 
vessels,  that  no  time  was  taken  to  make 
even  a  memorandum  of  what  was  put  on 
board.  The  carpenters  were  hard  at  work 
on  the  transports,  fitting  up  bunks  for  the 
soldiers  and  cabins  for  the  officers,  and 
there  was  everywhere  proof  of  an  early 
intention  on  the  part  of  the  British  to 
escape  from  Boston. 

Intelligence  of  Howe's  resolution  was 
now  conveyed  to  the  American  camp,  in 
a  manner  which,  although  not  directly 
official,  could  leave  no  doubt  of  the  fact. 
A  flag  of  truce  came  out  from  the  enemy, 
with  a  letter,  which  was  received  by  Colo 
nel  Learned,  in  command  of  the  advance 
post  at  Roxbury.  This  communication, 
being  taken  to  headquarters,  was  there 
opened  by  Washington,  for  whom  it  was 
evidently  intended,  although  not  so  ad 
dressed.  Here  is  the  letter  : — 

"BOSTON,  8th  March,  1776. 

"As  his  excellency  General  Howe  is 
determined  to  leave  the  town,  with  the 
troops  under  his  command,  a  number  of 
the  respectable  inhabitants  being  very 
anxious  for  its  preservation  and  safety, 
have  applied  to  General  Robertson  for 


this  purpose,  who  at  their  request  has 
communicated  the  same  to  his  excellen 
cy  General  Howe,  who  has  assured  him 
that  he  has  no  intention  of  destroying  the 
town,  unless  the  troops  under  his  com 
mand  are  molested  during  their  embarka 
tion,  or  at  their  departure,  by  the  armed 
force  without ;  which  declaration  he  gave 
General  Robertson  leave  to  communicate 
to  the  inhabitants.  If  such  an  opposition 
should  take  place,  we  have  the  greatest 
reason  to  expect  the  town  will  be  exposed 
to  entire  destruction.  Our  fears  are  qui 
eted  with  regard  to  General  Howe's  in 
tentions.  We  beg  we  may  have  some 
assurance  that  so  dreadful  a  calamity  may 
not  be  brought  on  by  any  measures  with 
out.  As  a  testimony  of  the  truth  above, 
we  have  signed  our  names  to  this  paper, 
carried  out  by  Messrs.  Thomas  and  Jona 
than  Amory  and  Peter  Johannot,  who 
have,  at  the  earnest  entreaties  of  the  in 
habitants,  through  the  lieutenant-govern 
or,  solicited  a  flag  of  truce  for  the  pur 
pose.  "JOHN  SCOLLAY, 

"TIMOTHY  NEWELL, 
"  THOMAS  MARSHALL, 
"  SAMUEL  AUSTIN." 

Howe  had  succeeded  in  frightening  the 
inhabitants  by  his  threat  to  burn  the  town 
in  case  of  his  being  assaulted  by  Wash 
ington's  troops,  and  effected  the  object 
he  is  said  to  have  intended.  His  pride 
is  supposed  to  have  revolted  at  making 
terms  of  capitulation  directly  with  the 
"  rebel"  leader ;  and  at  the  same  time,  be 
ing  conscious  how  much  he  was  at  the 
mercy  of  his  enemy,  he  was  desirous  of 
securing  conditions  of  safety  to  his  army. 
The  citizens  of  Boston,  as  was  expected, 


KISVOIMJTrOXARY.] 


NO  ATTACK— NO  FIRE. 


249 


took  the  alarm,  and,  by  writing  the  letter, 
did  as  was  hoped  and  probably  suggested. 
Washington,  on  receiving  the  commu 
nication,  called  together  such  of  the  gen 
eral  officers  as  he  could  immediately  as 
semble,  and  with  their  advice  determined 
not  to  answer  it,  as  it  was  not  addressed 
to  him,  nor  signed  or  authenticated  by 
General  Howe.  It  was,  however,  thought 
proper  to  direct  Colonel  Learned,  to  whom 
the  letter  had  been  first  presented,  to  an 
swer  it  thus : — 

ROXBURY,  March  9,  1776. 

"  GENTLEMEN  :  Agreeably  to  a  promise 
made  to  you  at  the  lines  yesterday,  I 
waited  upon  his  excellency  General  Wash 
ington,  and  presented  to  him  the  paper 
handed  to  me  by  you,  from  the  selectmen 
of  Boston.  The  answer  I  received  from 
him  was  to  this  effect:  'that  as  it  was  an 
unauthenticated  paper,  without  an  ad 
dress,  and  not  obligatory  upon  General 
Howe,  he  would  take  no  notice  of  it.'  I 
am,  with  esteem  and  respect,  gentlemen, 
your  most  obedient  servant, 

"EBENEZER  LEARNED. 

"To  MESSRS.  AMOIIY  AND  JOHANXOT." 

Somehow  or  other,  the  object  of  the 
letter  was  obtained,  through  a  tacit  un 
derstanding  between  the  two  general;?, 
although  each  dodged  the  responsibility 
of  committing  himself  to  a  written  agree 
ment.  "General  Washington,"  writes  a 
chronicler  of  the  time,  '''brought  himself 
under  no  obligation ;  but  expressed  him 
self  in  words  which  admitted  of  a  favora 
ble  construction,  and  intimated  his  good 
wishes  for  the  towns-people."  General 
Howe  probably  never  thought  seriously 
of  burning  the  city.  His  preparations  for 

32 


departure  were  such  as  to  indicate  no 
such  intention.  Washington  himself  had 
come  to  that  conclusion ;  for  he  infers, 
"  from  the  destruction  they  are  making 
of  sundry  pieces  of  furniture,  of  many  of 
their  wagons,  carts,  &c.,  which  they  can 
not  take  with  them,"  that  there  is  no  de 
sign  to  burn  the  city,  for  in  that  case  the 
whole  might  have  been  destroyed  togeth 
er.  At  any  rate,  Washington  did  not  at 
tack,  and  Howe  did  not  burn. 

The  Americans,  however,  went  on  with 
their  works,  and  now  attempted  to  take 
possession  of  Nook's  hill,  which  was  still 
nearer  Boston  than  Dorchester  heights, 
and  completely  commanded  the  town. 

Washington  sent  out  during  the 

.  March  8, 

night  a  strong  force  to  raise  a 

redoubt,  and' establish  a  position  there. 
On  reaching  the  height,  however,  some 
of  the  men  imprudently  lighted  a  fire, 
which  alarmed  the  British,  and  drew  from 
their  ships  a  heavy  cannonade,  which,  al 
though  well  returned  by  the  American 
batteries,  was  so  severe,  that  the  patriots 
were  forced  to  retire.  The  camp  and  the 
whole  country  round  were  kept  in  a  state 
of  anxious  excitement  by  the  incessant 
firing  throughout  the  night.  Mrs.  Adams 
is  again  on  the  alert  with  her  ever-ready 
pen,  and  writes  to  her  husband  on  Sun 
day  evening,  March  10:  "A  most  terrible 
and  incessant  cannonade  from  half-after 
eight  till  six  this  morning.  I  hear  we 
lost  four  men  killed,  and  some  wounded, 
in  attempting  to  take  the'  hill  nearest  to 
the  town,  called  Nook's  hill.  We  did  some 
work,  but  the  fire  from  the  ships  beat  off 
our  men,  so  that  they  did  not  secure  it, 
but  retired  to  the  fort  on  the  other  hill." 


250 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

* 

General  Howe's  Proclamation. — Crean  Brush,  Esquire. — His  Proceedings. — Impatience  of  Howe  to  depart. — The  Licence 
of  Sailors  and  Soldiers. — Howe  threatens. — Offers  Rewards. — Washington  hastens  the  Departure  of  the  British  by 
another  and  Successful  Attempt  on  Nook's  Hill. — The  Result. — The  British  depart. — The  Inhabitants  of  Boston. — 
Alarms  of  Fire. — The  Precipitate  Hurry  of  the  Enemy. — The  Tories  anxious  to  get  away. — Many  of  them  unable  to 
escape. — The  Patriot  Army  enters  Boston. — Appearance  of  the  City. — Washington's  Letters  to  his  Brother  and  John 
Hancock. — The  Small-Pox. — General  Heath  sent  with  a  Detachment  to  New  York. — The  Puzzling  Movements  of  the 
British  Fleet. — It  sails  at  last. — The  Joy  of  the  Enemy  at  getting  away. — Tribute  of  Honor  to  Washington. — The 
Evacuation  of  Boston. — How  received  in  England. 


1776. 


Mar.  10. 


THE  attempt  on  Nook's  hill,  al 
though  temporarily  unsuccessful, 
served  to  hasten  the  preparations  for  de 
parture  of  the  British.  General  Howe 
issued  a  proclamation,  which  was 
addressed  to  Crean  Brush,  Es 
quire,  an  inveterate  tory  of  New  York, 
who  had  become  notorious  as  an  impor 
tunate  adviser  and  an  active  and  insolent 
agent  of  British  tyranny.  The  procla 
mation  was  printed  in  the  form  of  a  hand 
bill,  and  was  circulated  throughout  the 
city.  These  are  its  words  : — 

"Sin:  I  am  informed  there  are  large 
quantities  of  goods  in  the  town  of  Bos 
ton,  which,  if  in  possession  of  the  rebels, 
would  enable  them  to  carry  on  war.  And 
whereas  I  have  given  notice  to  all  loyal 
inhabitants  to  remove  such  goods  from 
hence,  and  that  all  who  do  not  remove 
them,  or  deliver  them  to  your  care,  will 
be  considered  as  abettors  of  rebels,  You 
are  hereby  authorized  and  required  to 
take  into  your  possession  all  such  goods 
as  answer  this  description,  and  give  cer 
tificates  to  the  owners  that  you  have  re 
ceived  them  for  their  use,  and  will  deliv 
er  them  to  the  owners'  order,  unavoidable 
accidents  excepted.  And  you  are  to 


make  inquiry  if  any  such  goods  be  se 
creted  or  left  in  stores ;  and  you  are  to 
seize  all  such  and  put  them  on  board  the 
Minerva  ship  or  the  brigantine  Elizabeth. 

"  Given  under  my  hand,  at  headquar 
ters,  Boston,  this  10th  day  of  March,  1776. 
"  W.  HOWE,  Com.  Chief. 

"  To  CREAN  BRUSH,  Esquire." 

This  order  was  interpreted  by  Crean 
Brush,  Esquire,  with  all  the  liberality  of 
insolence  for  which  he  was  notorious.  Va 
rious  shops,  belonging  to  persons  in  the 
country  were  broken  open,  and  all  goods 
of  whatever  sort  or  kind  (although  Howe 
had  more  particularly  specified,  in  one  of 
his  orders,  linens  and  woollens)  were  ta 
ken  out  and  put  on  board  ship,  to  be  car 
ried  away.  Brush  was  not  content  with 
despoiling  the  absent,  but,  growing  more 
audacious,  in  the  confusion  of  the  ap 
proaching  departure  of  the  troops,  he  be 
gan  to  strip  the  shops  of  all  their  goods, 
in  the  very  face  of  the  owners  who  were 
in  town !  Under  this  apparent  official 
sanction,  the  soldiers  and  sailors  went 
about  plundering  and  committing  depre 
dations.  Shops,  stores,  and  dwelling- 
houses,  were  entered  by  these  ruthless 
robbers,  who  destroyed  what  they  could 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


NOOK'S  HILL  TAKEN. 


251 


not  carry  away.  Howe  strove  to  check 
the  villains  by  proclamations  and  or 
ders  ;  but,  although  he  threatened  the 
guilty  with  death,  they  continued  their 
pillage. 

The  British  commander  was  now  evi 
dently  impatient  to  depart.  The  streets 
were  barricaded  in  different  parts  of  the 
town,  and  proclamation  was  made  by  the 
crier  for  every  inhabitant  to  keep 
to  his  house  from  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning  till  night,  that  there  might 
be  no  interference  with  the  troops,  who 
were  now  disposed  in  readiness  for  em 
barkation.  The  wind,  however,  being 
unfavorable  for  the  ships,  the  departure 
was  postponed,  and  the  troops  sent  back 
to  their  quarters.  The  soldiers  thus  de 
tained  were  thrown  loose  from  their  or 
dinary  discipline,  and  had  "little  else  to 
study  but  mischief,  which  they  practised 
to  a  great  degree,  by  breaking  open  stores 
and  tossing  the  contents,  being  private 
property,  into  the  dock ;  destroying  the 
furniture  of  every  house  they  could  get 
into,  and  otherwise  committing  every 
kind  of  wantonness  which  disappointed 
malice  could  suggest."  The  naval  depart 
ment  acted  in  ready  concert  of  licentious 
ness  with  the  military,  and  sailors  landed 
in  gangs  from  the  ships  of  war  (led,  it  was 
said,  by  officers),  and  went  about  the  city, 
rifling  and  destroying  everything  within 
their  reach.  Howe  continued  by  procla 
mation  to  threaten  the  rogues  with  hang 
ing,  but  with  little  or  no  effect.  He 
proved  his  anxious  loyalty  by  securing 
safety  to  its  appurtenances,  by  the  more 
effective  system  of  pecuniary  awards:  he 
offered  fifty  pounds  sterling  for  the  con- 


Mar,  13. 


Mar,  16. 


viction  of  any  one  found  cutting  or  de 
facing  the  king's  or  queen's  picture  hang 
ing  in  the  townhouse,  which  had  already 
been  entered  and  somewhat  damaged 
by  his  lawless  soldiers. 

These  delays  of  the  British  in  evacua 
ting  Boston  were  a  disappointment  to 
Washington,  as  he  fully  expected  that 
he  would  have  got  rid  of  them 
before.  He  was  now  well  per 
suaded  of  their  intention  of  going,  as  all 
their  movements  indicated  it ;  but  he  felt 
that  it  was  necessary  to  continue  on  his 
guard,  lest  after  all  it  should  prove  a  feint 
to  deceive  him.  He  resolved,  with  the 
advice  of  his  council,  to  precipitate  Howe's 
movements,  by  making  another  attempt 
on  Nook's  hill.  A  strong  force  was  ac 
cordingly  detached  for  this  pur 
pose;  and  it  succeeded  in  taking 
possession,  erecting  a  breastwork,  and 
holding  that  important  post,  in  spite  of  a 
sharp  cannonade  from  the  enemy. 

This  successful  movement  of  the  Amer 
icans  was  what  "  the  king's  troops  had 
most  fearfully  dreaded,"  as  Nook's  hill 
gave  Washington  the  entire  command  of 
Boston  neck  and  the  south  end  of  the 
town.  The  British  commander  now  no 
longer  hesitated,  and  began  to  embark 
his  troops  as  early  as  two  o'clock  on  the 
next  morning  (Sunday),  and  had 
every  man  on  board  and  the  ships 
under  sail  before  ten.  The  whole  number 
of  soldiers  thus  hastily  shipped  amounted 
to  seven  thousand  five  hundred  and  sev 
enty-five.  These,  with  the  sailors  and 
marines,  made  up  the  entire  available 
force  of  the  British,  to  the  number  of 
about  ten  thousand. 


Mar.  17. 


252 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


So  soon  as  the  last  red-coat  disappeared, 
the  inhabitants  hurried  out  of  their  dwel 
lings  and  began  anxiously  to  seek  for  any 
lurking  evidences  of  fire.  Combustibles, 
so  placed  as  to  indicate  a  design  of  burn 
ing  the  town,  were  found  in  some  of  the 
houses.  These  preparations  had  proba 
bly  been  made  to  carry  out  the  threat  of 
Howe,  in  case  of  being  fired  upon  during 
embarkation.  The  Americans,  however, 
did  not  fire  a  shot.  "  Our  troops,"  wrote 
an  English  officer,  "  did  not  receive  the 
smallest  molestation,  though  the  rebels 
were  all  night  at  work  on  the  near  hill 
...and  we  kept  a  constant  fire  upon  them 
from  a  battery  of  twenty-four  pounders. 
They  did  not  return  a  single  shot.  It 
was  lucky  for  the  inhabitants  now  left  in 
Boston  they  did  not ;  for  I  am  informed 
everything  was  prepared  to  set  the  town 
in  a  blaze,  had  they  fired  one  cannon." 

The  hurry  of  the  retreat  is  shown  by 
this  graphic  letter  of  another  British  offi 
cer  :  "  Our  not  being  burdened  with  pro 
visions,  permitted  us  to  save  some  stores 
and  ammunition,  the  light  fieldpieces  and 
such  things  as  were  most  convenient  of 
carriage.  The  rest,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  we 
were  obliged  to  leave  behind;  such  of 
the  guns  as,  by  dismounting,  we  could 
throw  into  the  sea,  was  so  done.  The 
carriages  were  disabled,  and  every  precau 
tion  taken  that  our  circumstances  \vould 
permit;  for  our  retreat  was  by  agreement. 
The  people  of  the  town  who  were  friends 
to  government,  took  care  of  nothing  but 
their  merchandise,  and  found  means  to 
employ  the  men  belonging  to  the  tran 
sports  in  embarking  their  goods,  so  that 
several  of  the  vessels  were  entirely  filled 


with  private  property,  instead  of  the 
king's  stores.  By  some  unaccountable  ac 
cident,  the  medicines,  surgeons'  chests, 
instruments,  and  necessaries,  were  left  in 
the  hospital.  The  confusion  unavoidable 
to  such  a  disaster  will  make  you  conceive 
how  much  must  be  forgot,  where  every 
man  had  a  private  concern.  The  neces 
sary  care  and  distress  of  the  women,  chil 
dren,  sick,  and  wounded,  required  every 
assistance  that  could  be  given.  It  was 
not  like  breaking  up  a  camp,  where  every 
man  knows  his  duty;  it  was  like  depart 
ing  your  country  with  your  wives,  your 
servants,  your  household  furniture,  and 
all  your  incumbrances.  The  officers,  who 
felt  the  disgrace  of  their  retreat,  did  their 
utmost  to  keep  up  appearances.  The 
men,  who  thought  they  were  changing 
for  the  better,  strove  to  take  advantage 
of  the  present  times,  and  were  kept  from 
plunder  and  drink  with  difficulty ."* 

The  departure  of  the  British  from  Bos 
ton  had  been  so  sudden  and  unexpected, 
that  there  had  not  been  provided  a  suffi 
cient  number  of  vessels,  properly  appoint 
ed,  for  carrying  away  the  fugitives.  In 
addition  to  the  troops,  there  were  nearly 
a  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  who  were 
either  so  attached  to  the  royal  cause  that 
they  preferred  to  go,  or  who  were  so  far 
suspected  of  tory  principles  that  they  did 
not  think  it  prudent  to  remain.  These 
greatly  encumbered  the  transports  with 
their  numbers,  and  their  plunder  and  ef 
fects.  The  ships,  too,  had  been  hurried 
away  so  quickly,  that  many  of  them  were 
quite  unfit  for  sea.  Some  had  hauled  out 
even  before  their  yards,  booms,  and  bow- 

*  Remembrancer,  vol.  iii.,  p.  108  ;  quoted  by  Irving. 


HEVOLU-nONARY.] 


THE  PROVINCIALS  ENTER  BOSTON. 


sprits,  had  been  bent ;  and  the  fleet  was 
now  supposed  to  be  delaying,  in  the  Nan- 
tasket  roads,  where  it  had  come  to  an 
chor,  in  consequence  of  not  being  in  a  fit 
condition  to  sail,  particularly  at  a  season 
when  the  equinoctial  gale  was  hourly  to 
be  expected. 

As  soon  as  the  British  troops  had  left 
Bunker's  hill,  and  were  observed  passing 
in  crowds  to  the  ships  at  anchor  below 
the  castle,  the  continental  forces  were 
drawn  out  in  parade.  Several  regiments, 
under  the  command  of  Putnam,  then  em 
barked  immediately  in  boats,  and  went 
down  the  river;  while  two  men  were  sent 
in  advance  to  Bunker's  hill,  to  reconnoi 
tre  that  position  and  report  upon  its  con 
dition.  As  the  latter  approached,  they 
were 'surprised  to  find  the  British  sentries 
still  at  their  posts;  but,  advancing  cau 
tiously  till  they  came  close  to  the  works, 
they  discovered  that  the  supposed  sol 
diers  on  guard  were  merely  wooden  men, 
with  muskets  on  their  shoulders,  which 
the  enemy  had  put  up  there,  to  conceal 
the  moment  of  their  departure,  and  thus 
guard  themselves  against  an  attack  du 
ring  their  flight.  The  two  Americans, 
finding  the  fort  entirely  deserted,  made 
a  signal  to  the  camp,  and  a  detachment 
of  soldiers  was  immediately  ordered  to 
take  possession. 

The  troops  which  sailed  down  the  river 
had  in  the  meantime  landed  at  Sewall's 
point,  where,  learning  that  all  the  British 
had  left  Boston,  a  portion  of  them  entered 
to  take  possession,  and  the  main  body  re 
turned  to  Cambridge.  At  the  same  time, 
General  Ward  with  about  five  hundred 
troops,  under  the  immediate  command 


of  Colonel  Learned — who  unbarred  and 
opened  the  gates — entered  Boston  from 
the  Roxbury  quarter.  On  their  way  over 
the  Neck,  the  men  picked  up  numbers  of 
crowfeet,  which  had  been  scattered  there 
by  the  enemy.  The  "crowfoot"  is  an  iron 
instrument,  consisting  of  a  round  ball  with 
spikes,  so  arranged  that  it  will  wound  the 
step  of  horse  or  man  in  whatever  manner 
it  may  be  thrown. 

Everything  in  Boston  showed  the  pre 
cipitation  with  which  the  British  had  de 
parted.  Their  barracks  and  other  works 
on  Bunker's  hill,  although  of  wood,  were 
all  left  standing,  while  but  a  small  part 
of  their  lines  was  destroyed.  Some  two 
hundred  and  fifty  cannon,  among  them 
a  very  large  iron  mortar,  had  been  left 
behind,  and  one  piece  of  artillery  was 
thrown  into  the  water  from  the  end  of 
the  wharf.  Some  thirty  thousand  pounds 
of  powder,  twenty-five  hundred  chaldrons 
of  sea-coal,  twenty-five  thousand  bushels 
of  wheat,  twenty-three  hundred  bushels 
of  barley,  six  hundred  bushels  of  oats,  a 
hundred  jars  of  oil,  and  a  hundred  and 
fifty  horses,  were  among  the  stores  left 
by  the  British  in  their  haste  to  get  away. 

Washington,  in  a  letter  to  his  brother, 
says:  "The  enemy  left  all  their  works 
standing  in  Boston  and  on  Bunker's  hill; 
and  formidable  they  are.  The  town  has 
shared  a  much  better  fate  than  was  ex 
pected,  the  damage  done  to  the  houses 
being  nothing  equal  to  report.  But  the 
inhabitants  have  suffered  a  good  deal  in 
being  plundered  by  the  soldiery  at  their 
departure.  All  those  who  took  upon 
themselves  the  style  and  title  of  govern 
ment-men  in  Boston,  in  short  all  those 


254 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


who  have  acted  an  unfriendly  part  in  this 
great  contest, have  shipped  themselves  off 
in  the  same  hurry,  but  under  still  greater 
disadvantage  than  the  king's  troops,  be 
ing  obliged  to  man  their  own  vessels,  as 
seamen  enough  could  not  be  had  for  the 
king's  transports,  and  submit  to  every 
hardship  that  can  be  conceived.  One  or 
two  have  done,  what  a  great  number 
ought  to  have  done  long  ago,  committed 
suicide.  By  all  accounts,  there  never  ex 
isted  a  more  miserable  set  of  beings  than 
these  wretched  creatures  now  are  :  taught 
to  believe  that  the  power  of  Great  Brit 
ain  was  superior  to  all  opposition,  and,  if 
not,  that  foreign  aid  was  at  hand,  they 
were  even  higher  and  more  insulting  in 
their  opposition  than  the  regulars.  When 
the  order  issued,  therefore,  for  the  em 
barking  the  troops  in  Boston,  no  electric 
shock,  no  sudden  explosion  of  thunder, 
in  a  word,  not  the  last  trump,  could  have 
struck  them  with  greater  consternation. 
They  were  at  their  wits'  end,  and,  con 
scious  of  their  black  ingratitude,  they 
chose  to  commit  themselves,  in  the  man 
ner  I  have  above  described,  to  the  mercy 
of  the  waves  at  a  tempestuous  season, 
rather  than  meet  their  oifended  country 
men." 

Washington,  in  his  letter  to  John  Han 
cock,  the  president  of  Congress,  was  en 
abled  to  say:  "I  have  a  particular  pleas 
ure  in  being  able  to  inform  you,  sir,  that 
your  house  has  received  no  damage  worth 
mentioning.  Your  furniture  is  in  toler 
able  order,  and  the  family  pictures  are 
all  left  entire  and  untouched."  This  was 
a  fortunate  result,  which  Hancock  well 
merited  for  his  patriotic  readiness  of  self- 


sacrifice,  when,  in  communicating  the  re 
solve  of  Congress  (December  22),  author 
izing  Washington  to  make  an  assault  up 
on  the  enemy,  "notwithstanding  the  town 
and  property  in  it  might  be  destroyed," 
he  had  written :  "  May  God  crown  your 
attempt  with  success !  I  most  heartily 
wish  it,  though  I  may  be  the  greatest  suf 
ferer." 

The  small-pox  was  prevailing  with  se 
verity  in  several  parts  of  Boston,  and  ac 
cordingly  Washington,  to  prevent  the 
spread  of  the  infection,  forbade  any  one 
to  enter  the  town  without  a  pass,  which 
was  given  but  to  few,  except  those  who 
had  had  the  disease,  or  been  protected 
by  inoculation.  A  great  many,  however, 
who  were  from  inland  places,  and  had 
never  been  in  a  seaport,  were  so  far  ex 
cited  by  the  natural  curiosity  of  rustics 
to  see  "  the  great  town  of  Boston,"  that 
they  did  not  hesitate  to  resort  to  tricks 
and  fraud  in  order  to  gain  admission. 
"The  thought  of  being  liable  to  catch  the 
distemper  would  have  terrified  them  in 
the  highest  degree  a  little  while  back ; 
but  to  gratify  a  different  passion  they 
suppressed  their  fears,  which  might  oper 
ate  for  the  preventing  of  their  taking  the 
infection.  The  works  of  the  enemy  nat 
urally  engaged  their  attention.  These, 
by  judicious  persons  who  have  surveyed 
them,  are  acknowledged  to  be  excellent, 
and  every  one  is  convinced  that  it  would 
have  been  a  most  hazardous  attempt  to 
have  endeavored  forcing  them." 

Washington,   believing   the   scene   of 
war  was  to  be  shifted  to  New  York,  sent 
five  regiments  and  some  artille- 
ry  there,  under  the  command  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BRITISH  FLEET  SAILS. 


255 


General  Heath,  and  moved  his  main  body 
into  Boston.  On  the  next  day  he  issued 
a  proclamation,  enjoining  mutual 
good  feeling  and  treatment  on 
the  part  of  the  soldiers  and  citizens ;  and 
soon  a  concourse  of  people  from  the  coun 
try  came  crowding  into  the  town,  "  full 
of  friendly  solicitude."  Then  were  wit 
nessed  "  the  tender  interviews  and  fond 
embraces  of  those  who  had  been  long 
separated  under  circumstances  so  pecu 
liarly  distressing." 

The  British  fleet,  after  having,  by  fire 
and  powder,  destroyed  the  works  on  Cas 
tle  William,  dropped  down,  and  lingered 
for  ten  days  in  Nantasket  roads.  In  the 
.meantime,  Washington  was  kept  quite 
anxious  by  its  movements.  "  The  ene 
my,"  he  says,  "  have  the  best  knack  at 
puzzling  people  I  ever  met  with  in  my 
life.  They  have  blown  up,  burnt,  and  de 
molished  the  castle  totally,  and  are  now 
all  in  Nantasket  road.  They  have  been 
there  ever  since  Wednesday.  What  they 
are  doing,  the  Lord  knows."  After  spec 
ulating  upon  various  supposed  causes  of 
the  enemy's  delay,  Washington  adds : 
"  My  opinion  of  the  matter  is,  that  they 
want  to  retrieve  their  disgrace  before 
they  go  off,  and  I  think  a  favorable  op 
portunity  presents  itself  to  them.  They 
have  now  got  their  whole  force  into  one 
collected  body,  and  no  posts  to  guard. 
We  have  detached  six  regiments  to  New 
York,  and  have  many  points  to  look  to ; 
and,  on  Monday  next,  ten  regiments  of 
militia,  which  were  brought  in  to  serve 
till  the  first  of  April,  will  be  disengaged. 
From  former  experience,  we  have  found 
it  as  practicable  to  stop  a  torrent  as  these 


people,  when  their  time  is  up.  If  this 
should  be  the  case  now,  what  more  favor 
able  opening  can  the  enemy  wish  for,  to 
make  a  push  upon  our  lines,  nay  upon 
the  back  of  our  lines  at  Roxbury,  as  they 
can  land  two  miles  from  there,  and  pass 
behind  ?  I  am  under  more  apprehension 
from  them  now  than  ever,  and  am  taking 
every  precaution  I  can  to  guard  against 
the  evil ;  but  we  have  a  kind  of  people 
to  deal  with  who  will  not  fear  danger  till 
the  bayonet  is  at  their  breast,  and  then 
they  are  susceptible  enough  of  it." 

Washington  went  on  preparing  for  the 
worst,  by  fortifying ;  and  when  he  had 
made  considerable  progress  with  his  works 
on  the  commanding  position  of  Fort  hill, 
he  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  the  ene 
my  gone.  The  fleet  finally  sailed,  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  cruisers, 
which  were  left  for  the  protec 
tion  of  any  British  vessels  which  might 
arrive  off  the  New-England  coast  with 
supplies  for  the  British  troops.  The  de 
lay  in  the  harbor  seemed  to  have  greatly 
vexed  the  patience  of  some  of  the  Eng 
lish  officers  :  "We  were,"  writes  one,  "can 
nonaded  fourteen  days  by  the  provincial 
army,  and,  at  last,  after  many  losses,  em 
barked  on  board  several  vessels,  and  are 
got  thus  far.  We  do  not  know  where 
we  are  going,  but  are  in  great  distress.... 
I  wish  I  was  with  you." — "Our  men  have 
suffered,"  writes  another,  who,  better  in 
formed,  knew  where  he  was  going.  "  We 
have  one  consolation  left.  You  know  the 
proverbial  expression, '  Neither  Hell,  Hull, 
nor  Halifax,'  can  afford  worse  shelter  than 
Boston.  To  fresh  provision  I  have,  for 
many  months,  been  an  utter  stranger. 


Mar,  27, 


256 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


An  egg  was  a  rarity.  Yet  I  submit.  A 
soldier  may  mention  grievances,  though 
he  should  scorn  to  repine  when  he  suffers 
them.  The  next  letter  from  Halifax." 
Halifax,  in  fact,  was  the  destination  of 
the  fleet,  and  not  New  York,  as  Washing 
ton  supposed. 

The  evacuation  of  Boston  by  the  Brit 
ish  was  hailed  throughout  the  colonies  as 
a  great  triumph  for  the  American  cause, 
and  Washington  received  congratulations 
from  all  quarters  on  his  success,  and  flat 
tering  testimonials  to  his  skilful  conduct 
of  the  siege.  First  came  the  selectmen 
of  Boston,  with  an  address ;  then  a  long 
and  flattering  testimonial  from  the  coun 
cil  and  house  of  representatives  of  Massa 
chusetts  ;  and  finally  from  Congress  a 
vote  of  thanks  moved  by  John  Adams, 
and  this  letter,  drawn  up  by  him,  John 
Jay,  and  Stephen  Hopkins  : — 

PHILADELPHIA,  April  2,  1776. 

"  Sir :  It  gives  me  the  most  sensible 
pleasure  to  convey  to  you,  by  order  of 
Congress,  the  only  tribute  which  a  free 
people  will  ever  consent  to  pay — the 
tribute  of  thanks  and  gratitude  to  their 
friends  and  benefactors. 

"  The  disinterested  and  patriotic  prin 
ciples  which  led  you  to  the  field  have  also 
led  you  to  glory;  and  it  affords  no  little 
consolation  to  your  countrymen  to  reflect 
that,  as  a  peculiar  greatness  of  mind  in 
duced  you  to  decline  any  compensation 
for  serving  them,  except  the  pleasure  of 
promoting  their  happiness,  they  may, 
without  your  permission,  bestow  upon 
you  the  largest  share  of  their  affection 
and  esteem. 

"  Those  pages  in  the  annals  of  America 


will  record  your  title  to  a  conspicuous 
place  in  the  temple  of  fame,  which  shall 
inform  posterity  that,  under  your  direc 
tions,  an  undisciplined  band  of  husband 
men,  in  the  course  of  a  few  months,  be 
came  soldiers ;  and  that  the  desolation 
meditated  against  the  country  by  a  brave 
army  of  veterans,  commanded  by  the 
most  experienced  generals,  but  employed 
by  bad  men,  in  the  worst  of  causes,  was 
by  the  fortitude  of  your  troops,  and  the 
address  of  their  officers,  next  to  the  kind 
interposition  of  Providence,  confined  for 
near  a  year  within  such  narrow  limits  as 
scarcely  to  admit  more  room  than  was 
necessary  for  the  encampments  and  for 
tifications  they  lately  abandoned. 

"  Accept,  therefore,  sir,  the  thanks  of 
the  united  colonies,  unanimously  declared 
by  their  delegates  to  be  due  to  you,  and 
the  brave  officers  and  troops  under  your 
command  ;  and  be  pleased  to  communi 
cate  to  them  this  distinguished  mark  of 
the  approbation  of  their  country. 

"  The  Congress  have  ordered  a  golden 
medal,*  adapted  to  the  occasion,  to  be 
struck,  and  when  finished  to  be  presented 
to  you. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  every 
sentiment  of  esteem,  sir,  your  most  obe 
dient  and  very  humble  servant, 

"  JOHN  HANCOCK,  President" 

*  "The  medal,  which  was  struck  in  Paris,  contains  on 
the  obverse  a  head  of  Washington  in  profile,  exhibiting  an 
excellent  likeness,  and  around  it  the  inscription  :  Georgio 
Washington  supremo  duci  exercituum  adsertori  libertatis 
comitia  Americana.  On  the  reverse  is  the  town  of  Boston 
in  the  distance,  with  a  fleet  in  view  under  sail.  Washington 
and  his  officers  are  on  horseback  in  the  foreground,  and  he 
is  pointing  to  the  ships  as  they  depart  from  the  harbor. 
The  inscription  is  :  Hostibus  primo  fugatis  Bostonium  re- 
cuperatum  xvii.  Martii,  MDCCLXXVI." 

SPARKS. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]     AN  ENGLISH  DUKE  APPLAUDS  THE  PATRIOTS. 


257 


Private  individuals  no  less  than  public 
bodies  too1',  occasion  to  congratulate  and 
compliment  Washington  upon  his  tri 
umph.  "I  congratulate  you,"  wrote  John 
Adams,  "  as  well  as  all  the  friends  of  man 
kind,  on  the  reduction  of  Boston ;  an 
event  which  appeared  to  me  of  so  great 
and  decisive  importance,  that,  the  next 
morning  after  the  arrival  of  the  news,  I 
did  myself  the  honor  to  move  for  the 
thanks  of  Congress  to  your  excellency, 
and  that  a  medal  of  gold  should  be  struck 
in  commemoration  of  it."  Eldridge  Ger 
ry  declared,  "  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  how 
Great  Britain  will  reconcile  all  this  to 
her  military  glory." 

The  intelligence  of  the  evacuation  of 
Boston  was  received  in  England  with  a 
feeling  of  such  surprise  that  few  would 
believe  it  true.  There  were  those,  how 
ever,  who  were  well  aware  of  the  fact, 
and  the  duke  of  Manchester,  in  a  remark 
able  speech  in  the  house  of  lords,  showed 
that  he  was  not  only  fully  informed  of 
the  circumstances  of  the  flight  from  Bos 
ton,  but  conscious  how  much  they  les 
sened  the  prestige  of  Great  Britain  and 
brightened  the  fame  and  hopes  of  the 
colonies.  "  To  come  now,  my  lords,"  said 
the  duke,  "to  that  which  has  cast  the 
deepest  stain  on  the  glory  of  the  British 
arms,  to  that  which  must  rouse  the  indig 
nation  of  all  who  feel  for  her  disgrace ; 
the  arnry  of  Britain,  equipped  with  every 
possible  essential  of  war,  a  chosen  army, 
33 


with  chosen  officers,  backed  by  the  power 
of  a  mighty  fleet,  sent  to  correct  revolted 
subjects,  sent  to  chastise  a  resisting  city, 
sent  to  assert  Britain's  authority,  has  for 
many  tedious  months  been  imprisoned 
within  that  town  by  the  provincial  army, 
who,  their  watchful  guards,  permitted 
them  no  inlet  to  the  country,  who  braved 
all  their  efforts,  and  defied  all  that  their 
skill  and  abilities  in  war  could  ever  at- 
tempt.  One  way,  indeed,  of  escape  is 
left ;  the  fleet  is  still  respected ;  to  the 
fleet  the  army  has  recourse ;  and  British 
generals,  whose  names  never  met  with  a 
blot  of  dishonor,  are  forced  to  quit  that 
town,  which  was  the  first  object  of  the 
war,  the.  immediate  cause  of  hostilities, 
the  place  of  arms,  which  has  cost  this  na 
tion  more  than  a  million  to  defend.  We 
are  informed  of  this  extraordinary  event 
by  a  gazette,  published  by  authority  from 
government,  in  which  it  is  related  that 
General  Howe  had  quitted  Boston ;  no 
circumstances  mentioned  to  palliate  the 
event,  no  veil  but  that  of  silence  to  cast 
over  the  disgrace.  But,  my  lords,  though 
the  government  account  is  short  and  1111- 
circumstaiitial,yet  private  intelligence  and 
public  report,  on  which,  till  it  is  with  au 
thenticity  denied,  I  must  rely,  informs  us 
that  General  Howe  quitted  not  Boston 
of  his  own  free  will ;  but  that  a  superior 
enemy  by  repeated  efforts,  by  extraordi 
nary  works,  by  the  fire  of  their  batteries^ 
rendered  the  place  untenable." 


258 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Washington  still  perplexed  about  the  Enemy's  Movements. — Another  Command  proposed  for  Lee. — Canada  first  pro 
posed. — Finally  the  South. — Lee  goes  to  Virginia. — Lord  Stirling  left  in  Command  at  New  York. — His  Life  and  Char 
acter. — Sterling  continues  the  Works  at  New  York  and  on  Long  Island. — Washington  resolves  upon  going  to  New 
York. — General  Thomas  appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  American  Troops  in  Canada. — Arnold  before  Quebec. — 
General  Wooster  arrives  at  last. — The  Small-Pox  among  the  Troops. — Thomas,  anxious  to  do  something,  sends 
down  the  St.  Lawrence  a  Fire-Ship. — Failure. — Retreat. — Carleton  sallies  out. — His  Success. — Death  of  Thomas. — 
The  Canadians  less  favorably  disposed  toward  the  Cause  of  the  Patriots. — Washington's  Solicitations  about  Canada. — 
Schuyler  censured. — His  Character. — Unpopular  with  the  New  Englandcrs. — Why  ? — Defended  by  Washington. — 
Schuyler  justifies  himself. — His  life. 


Mar,  27, 


WASHINGTON  was  perplexed  about  the 
destination  of  the  British  fleet.  "  Whither 
they  are  bound  and  where  they  will  next 
pitch  their  tents  I  know  not,"  he  says,  but 
bolieving  that  New  York  was  to  be  the 
place  he  ordered  the  main  body  of  his 
army  there,  and  determined  soon  to  fol 
low  himself.  General  Lee,  it 
will  be  remembered,  had  with 
his  usual  energy  repressed  the  mischie 
vous  machinations  of  the  tories,  and  driven 
by  his  military  operations,  Governor  Try- 
on  and  the  enemy's  ships  from  the  North 
river  to  the  safer  distance  of  the  bay,  where 
they  were  now  moored  off  Staten  island. 
Congress  had  other  occupation  in  view  for 
L  ee,  and  ordered  him  to  take  the  command 
in  Canada.  These  orders  were  hardly  giv 
en,  however,  when  they  were  changed,  and 
it  was  resolved  to  send  Lee  to  the  South. 
He  would  have  preferred  the  Canadian 
command,  as  he  thought  himself,  from  the 
fact  that  he  was  the  only  general  officer 
on  the  continent  who  could  speak  or  think 
in  French,  the  best  adapted  for  that  quar 
ter.  Washington  seemed  to  be  of  the 
same  opinion,  and  wrote  to  Lee,  saying: 
"  I  was  just  about  to  congratulate  you  on 


your  appointment  to  the  command  in 
Canada,  when  I  received  the  account  that 
your  destination  was  altered.  As  a  Vir 
ginian,  I  must  rejoice  at  the  change ;  but 
as  an  American,  I  think  you  would  have 
done  more  essential  service  to  the  com 
mon  cause  in  Canada.  For,  besides  the 
advantage  of  speaking  and  thinking  in 
French,  an  officer  who  is  acquainted  with 
their  manners  and  customs,  and  has  trav 
elled  in  their  country,  must  certainly  take 
the  strongest  hold  of  their  affection  and 
confidence."  Washington  had  a  high 
opinion  of  Lee's  capacity,  but  was  not 
unconscious  of  his  irritable  and  capricious 
temper.  To  his  brother  John  Augustine, 
who  remained  at  Mount  Vernon,  Wash 
ington  writes:  "General  Lee,  I  suppose, 
is  with  you  before  this.  He  is  the  first 
officer,  in  military  knowledge  and  expe 
rience,  we  have  in  the  whole  army.  He 
is  zealously  attached  to  the  cause,  honest 
and  well-meaning,  but  rather  fickle  and 
violent,  I  fear,  in  his  temper.  However, 
as  he  possesses  an  uncommon  share  of 
good  sense  and  spirit,  I  congratulate  my 
countrymen  (Virginians)  upon  his  ap 
pointment  to  that  department." 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


HIS  LORDSHIP  OF  STIRLING. 


259 


Lee  accordingly  proceeded  to  Virginia, 
.  and  soon  after  his  arrival,  in  an 
swer  to  a  letter  he  had  received 
from  Washington  at  Boston,  giving  an 
account  of  his  success  there;  wrote :  "  I 
must  sincerely  congratulate  you,  I  con 
gratulate  the  public  on  the  great  and 
glorious  event,  your  possession  of  Boston. 
It  will  be  a  most  bright  page  in  the  an 
nals  of  America,  and  a  most  abominably 
black  one  in  those  of  the  beldam  Britain. 
Go  on,  my  dear  general,  crown  yourself 
with  glory,  and  establish  the  liberties  and 
lustre  of  your  country  on  a  foundation 
more  permanent  than  the  capitol  rock." 
What  he  says  of  himself  in  the  same  let 
ter,  does  not  seem  so  satisfactory,  'and  is 
stated  in  his  usual  half-humorous,  half- 
discontented  tone  :  "  My  situation  is  just 
as  I  expected.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  make 
a  shabby  figure,  without  any  real  demerits 
of  my  own.  I  am  like  a  dog  in  a  dancing 
school.  I  know  not  where  to  turn  my 
self,  where  to  fix  myself.  The  circum 
stances  of  the  country  intersected  by 
navigable  rivers,  the  uncertainty  of  the 
enemy's  designs  and  motions,  who  can  fly 
in  an  instant  to  any  spot  they  choose  with 
their  canvass  wings,  throw  me,  and  would 
throw  Julius  Cesar,  into  this  inevitable 
dilemma,  I  may  possibly  be  in  the  north, 
when,  as  Richard  says,  I  should  serve  my 
sovereign  in  the  west.  I  can  only  act 
from  surmise,  and  I  have  a  very  good 
chance  of  surmising;  wrong;.  I  am  sorrv 

O  O  */ 

to  grate  your  ears  with  a  truth,  but  must 
at  all  events  assure  you,  that  the  provin 
cial  Congress  of  New  York  are  angels  of 
decision  when  compared  with  your  coun 
trymen,  the  committee  of  safety  assem 


bled  at  Williamsburgh.  Page,  Lee,  Mer 
cer,  and  Payne  are  indeed  exceptions ; 
but  from  Pendleton,  Bland,  the  treasurer, 
and  Company,  libera  nos  domine" 

When  Lee  departed  for  the  South, Lord 
Stirling  was  left  in  command  of  the  troops 
at  New  York.  William  Alexander  was 
the  genuine  name  of  his  "lordship,"  but 
he  was  always  called  Lord  Stirling  by  the 
Americans,  probably  to  compensate  him 
for  the  obstinate  resistance  to  his  claim 
in  Great  Britain,  where  he  had  made  an 
unsuccessful  effort  for  a  recognition  of 
his  title  as  earl.  He  was  a  great  stickler 
for  the  lordship.  On  one  occasion  being 
present  at  the  execution  of  a  soldier  for 
desertion,  the  criminal  repeatedly  cried 
out,  "the  Lord  have  mercy  on  me;"  his 
lordship,  with  warmth,  exclaimed, "  I  wont, 
you  rascal,  I  wont  have  mercy  on  you."* 
His  father  was  a  Scotchman  who  had  gone 
to  America  to  escape  the  consequences 
of  having  engaged  in  the  unsuccessful 
rebellion  in  behalf  of  the  Pretender  in 
1715.  He  settled  in  New  York  where 
he  married  the  daughter  of  a  fortunate 
speculator  called  "Ready-money  Provost," 
and  where  his  son  William  was  born  in 
1726.  The  youth  had  an  early  inclina 
tion  for  war,  and  volunteering  for  the 
French  and  Indian  campaign,  served  as 
aid-de-camp  to  General  Shirley.  Subse 
quently,  visiting  England,  he  laid  his  claim 
to  the  earldom  of  Stirling  before  the 
house  of  lords,  and  upon  its  not  being 
allowed,  he  returned  to  America,  where 
his  rights  to  the  "lordship"  were  always 
afterward  recognised  by  courtesy.  He 
now  married  the  daughter  of  Philip  Liv 

*  Thacher. 


260 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


ingston,  the  "  second  lord  of  the  manor," 
and  building  "  a  fine  mansion"  in  New 
Jersey,  went  to  live  there.  On  the  break 
ing  out  of  the  difficulties  with  Great  Brit 
ain,  Lord  Stirling  joined  the  popular  cause, 
and  after  being  appointed  colonel  of  the 
first  battalion  of  New  Jersey  militia,  was 
finally  promoted  by  Congress  to  the  rank 
of  brigadier-general.  Lee  spoke  of  him 
as  "  Alexander  pas  le  grand,  mais  le  gros" 

Stirling  being  now  in  command  of  some 
twenty-five  hundred  men,  and  continuing 
to  carry  into  execution  the  plans  of  defence 
for  New  York  and  Long  island  which  had 
been  formed  by  General  Lee,  awaited  the 
arrival  of  the  main  body  of  the  army. 
Washington  having  sent  most  of  his  troops 
in  two  large  detachments,  the  first  under 
the  immediate  command  of  Brigadier- 
General  Heath,  and  the  second  under 
Brigadier-General  Sullivan,  ordered  Gen 
eral  Putnam  to  New  York,  to  assume  the 
general  command,  and  to  pro 
ceed  "  to  execute  the  plan  pro 
posed  by  Major-General  Lee  for  fortifying 
the  city  and  securing  the  passes  of  the 
East  and  North  rivers."  Washington 
himself  did  not  propose  yet  to  set  out 
for  a  week  or  more. 

While  Washington  had  determined  to 
proceed  to  New  York,  and  Lee  had  been 
sent  to  Virginia  to  meet  the  expected 
operations  of  the  enemy  in  those  quar 
ters,  Congress  was  not  unmindful  of  the 
important  interests  at  risk  in  the  North. 
General  Thomas  was  accordingly  ap 
pointed  to  take  command  of  the  Ameri 
can  troops  in  Canada,  where  we  left  them, 
as  will  be  recollected,  after  the  repulse 
of  their  assault  upon  Quebec,  encamped 


Mar,  29, 


within  three  miles  of  the  walls  of  the  city, 
apparently  for  the  winter. 

Arnold's  small  force  having  received 
some  additions  from  a  few  straggling 
soldiers  who,  in  spite  of  the  severity  of 
the  season  and  the  hardships  of  a  long 
journey  through  the  snow  and  over  the 
frozen  rivers,  had  succeeded  in  making 
their  way  to  the  camp,  the  Americans 
were  enabled  to  hold  their  ground,  and 
do  something,  by  means  of  their  ice-bat 
teries,  in  keeping  up  the  show  of  a  siege. 
Sir  Guy  Carleton  kept  within  his  walls 
and  showed  a  degree  of  caution  that  could 
only  be  attributed  to  the  distrust  of  his 
own  people,  whose  loyalty  was  somewhat 
dubious,  and  not  to  any  dread  of  his  ene 
my,  whose  aspect  was  by  no  means  for 
midable.  He  seemed  more  desirous  of 
exercising  benevolence  than  hostility 
toward  his  opponents.  He  treated  his 
prisoners  with  a  kindness  and  generosity, 
so  great,  that  no  chronicler  of  the  events 
of  those  days  has  failed  to  give  his  testi 
mony  to  the  humanity  of  Governor  Carle- 
ton.  He  sent  out  to  the  American  camp 
for  the  clothes  of  those  held  captive  in 
Quebec,  and  allowed  their'friends  to  send 
them  money  and  such  necessaries  and 
luxuries  as  they  might  require. 

General  Wooster  passed  the  whole  win 
ter  in  inactivity  at  Montreal,  while  Arnold 
was  encamped  before  Quebec. 
He  came  at  last  as  the  spring 
opened,  and  brought  such  an  addition  to 
the  American  force  as  raised  it  to  the  ap 
parently  respectable  number  of  two  thous 
and  eight  hundred  and  fifty-five  ;  but  one 
third  at  least  of  these,  were  prostrate  with 
small-pox.  A  girl,  who  was  a  nurse  in 


April  1. 


REVOLUTIONAKY.] 


A  SALLY  FROM  QUEBEC. 


261 


the  hospital  at  Quebec,  had  some  friends 
in  the  American  camp,  whom  she  came 
oat  to  visit,  and  was  supposed  thus  to 
have  brought  the  infection  among  the 
troops.  The  disease  soon  after  broke  out 
and  began  to  spread,  when  many  of  the 
men  inoculated  themselves,  and  thus  be 
came  disabled  for  duty.  On  the  arrival, 
however,  of  Wooster,  in  spite  of  the  con 
dition  of  the  troops,  something  was  at 
tempted  in  the  way  of  action,  by  cannon 
ading  the  enemy,  and  more  vigorous 
measures,  doubtless,  would  have  followed, 
had  not  Arnold  been  disabled  by  an  inju 
ry  to  his  wounded  leg  from  the  fall  of  his 
horse.  This  accident,  which  kept  him  in 
bed  for  a  fortnight,  was  a  serious  matter 
for  the  Americans,  for  without  Arnold  the 
soul  of  the  enterprise  was  gone.  With 
this  misfortune,  and  with  his  spirit  chafed 
at  the  conduct  of  Wooster  who,  being 
his  superior  in  command,  did  not  yield 
as  readily  to  Arnold's  imperiousness  as 
he  would  have  wished,  Arnold  asked  leave 
of  absence,  which  was  granted,  and  he 
retired  to  Montreal.  Wooster  did  nothing 
until  the  arrival  of  General  Thomas  to 
whom  he  yielded  up  the  command. 

Thomas,  on  his  arrival,  was  anxious  to 
attempt  something,  and  he  therefore,  as 
the  St.  Lawrence  was  free  of  ice, 
prepared  a  fire-ship.  At  the  same 
time  making  ready  his  scaling-ladders,  he 
drew  up  his  forces  with  the  view  of  mak 
ing  an  assault.  The  fire-ship  was  sent 
adrift  at  night,  and  floating  with  the  flood- 
tide  toward  Quebec  was  supposed  by  the 
enemy  at  first  to  be  a  friendly  vessel. 
As  she  neared,  however,  the  shipping,  her 
true  character  was  discovered,  and  the 


May  1, 


batteries  began  to  fire  upon  her.  The 
crew  on  board  finding  that  their  purpose 
was  discovered,  lighted  the  train  and 
took  to  their  boats.  The  ship  was  soon 
in  a  blaze,  but  the  sails  taking  fire,  she 
lost  her  headway,  and  the  tide  beginning 
to  ebb,  she  was  carried  down  the  river 
and  the  whole  attempt  failed. 

Next  day,  General  Thomas,  disappoint 
ed  by  the  failure  of  his  plan,  and  finding 
from  the  condition  of  his  troops  and  the 
scarcity  of  provisions  that  it  was  use 
less  to  make  an  assault  or  to  continue 
the  siege,  determined  to  retreat.  When 
making  preparations  to  carry  out  this 
purpose,  the  enemy  received  a  reinforce 
ment  by  the  arrival  of  a  squadron  from 
Great  Britain  with  several  hundred  troops 
on  board.  Carleton,  with  this  addition 
to  his  troops,  sallied  out  and  made  an  at 
tack  upon  the  Americans  who,  in  the  con 
fusion  of  their  retreat  which  had  already 
begun,  and  being  pressed  by  the  enemy, 
were  forced  to  fly  precipitately  and  aban 
don  their  baggage,  artillery,  and  stores. 
There  were  a  great  number  of  sick  among 
the  provincials,  some  of  whom,  with  the 
small-pox  full  upon  them,  strove,  ill  as 
they  were,  to  escape,  while  others  gave 
themselves  up  at  once  to  the  assailants, 
and  were  treated  by  Carleton  with  his 
usual  considerate  kindness. 

The  British  did  not  continue  the  pur 
suit  far,  or  they  might  have  totally  de 
stroyed  the  provincials.  These,  however, 
continued  their  flight,  night  and  day,  for 
a  distance  of  forty-five  miles.  On  reach 
ing  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel  they  halted, 
and  being  reinforced  by  the  arrival  of 
several  regiments,  encamped  there  for 


262 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


several  days,  during  which  period  General 
Thomas,  who  had  sickened  with  the  small 
pox,  died.  As  he  had  forbidden  his  troops, 
that  they  might  not  be  disabled  by  their 
temporary  illness,  to  b£  inoculated,  he 
refused  himself  to  take  advantage  of  the 
only  means  then  known  of  protection 
against  the  fatal  disease,  and  thus  became 
a  sacrifice  to  the  severity  of  military  dis 
cipline.  General  Sullivan  now  succeeded 
to  the  command,  superseding  Wooster. 

Affairs  in  Canada  were  a  source  of 
great  anxiety  to  all  engaged  in  the  Amer 
ican  cause.  The  friendly  disposition  at 
one  time  evinced  by  the  Canadians  seems 
greatly  to  have  changed.  When  General 
Montgomery  first  penetrated  into  the 
country,  he  readily  obtained  men,  wag 
ons,  and  provisions;  and  when  he  was 
before  Quebec,  offers  of  service  were  made 
to  him  from  a  number  of  parishes,  in  the 
neighboring  country.  His  death,  how 
ever,  added  to  other  occurrences,  had 
caused  such  a  change  in  the  disposition 
of  the  people,  that,  as  an  American  offi 
cer  wrote, "  we  no  longer  look  upon  them 
as  friends,  but,  on  the  contrary,  as  waiting 
an  opportunity  to  join  our  enemies."  The 
clergy  and  landed  proprietors  had  not 
been  properly  conciliated,  and  they  be 
came  unanimously  opposed  to  the  Amer 
ican  cause,  and  even  while  Montreal  was 
held  by  our  troops,  many  of  the  inhabit 
ants  of  consequence  were  supposed  to  be 
carrying  on  a  correspondence  with  Carle- 
ton  at  Quebec.  "With  respect  to  the 
better  sort  of  people,  both  French  and 
English,"  wrote  the  same  officer  just 
quoted,  "seven  eights  are  tories,  who 
would  wish  to  see  our  throats  cut,  and 


perhaps  would  readily  assist  in  doing  it." 
The  Americans  were  to  blame  greatly  for 
this  result,  for  they  not  only  neglected 
to  conciliate  the  better  classes,  but  had 
ill-used  the  peasantry.  The  inhabitants 
had  been  "  dragooned  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet  to  supply  wood  for  the  garrison 
at  a  lower  rate  than  the  current  price. 
For  carriages  and  many  other  articles 
furnished,  certificates  had  been  given  that 
were  either  not  legible  or  without  a  sig 
nature,  and  the  consequence  was  that  on 
being  presented  they  were  rejected  by 
the  quartermaster-general."  The  people 
thus  deceived  became  importunate  in 
their  claims,  which  being  only  met  by 
vague  promises,  they  concluded  that  their 
labor  and  property  had  been  expended 
in  vain,  and  had  no  longer  faith  in  the 
united  colonies,  which  they  believed  bank 
rupt. 

Washington  shared  in  this  so 
licitude  about  Canada,  and  wrote 
to  Schuyler :  "  The  commotions  among 
the  Canadians  are  alarming.  I  am  afraid 
proper  measures  have  not  been  taken  to 
conciliate  their  affections;  but  rather  that 
they  have  been  insulted  and  injured,  than 
which  nothing  could  have  a  greater  ten 
dency  to  ruin  our  cause  in  that  country. 
For  human  nature  is  such,  that  it  will  ad 
here  to  the  side  from  whence  the  best  treat 
ment  is  received.  I  therefore  conjure 
you,  sir,  to  recommend  the  officers  and 
soldiers  in  the  strongest  terms  to  treat 
all  the  inhabitants,  Canadians,  English. 
and  savages,  with  tenderness  and  respect, 
paying  them  punctually  for  what  they 
receive,  or  giving  them  such  certificates 
as  will  enable  them  to  receive  their  pay." 


REVOLUTION  ART.] 


SCHUYLER  VERSUS  THE  DEMOCRATS. 


263 


Congress,  too,  was  so  far  impressed  with 
ihe  unfortunate  state  of  affairs  in  Canada, 
and  the  necessity  of  a  remedy,  that  it 
appointed  Dr.  Franklin.  Samuel  Chase, 
Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton,  and  the 
Rev.  John  Carroll,  a  Roman  catholic  priest, 
as  commissioners  to  proceed  to  the  North, 
with  the  view  of  investigating  and  remov 
ing  grievances,  and  conciliating  the  Cana 
dian  people.  Everything  seemed  to  be 
in  such  an  ill  condition,  in  regard  to  the 
military  operations  in  Canada,  as  almost 
to  justify  the  sweeping  remark  of  a  trav 
eller  of  those  days,  who,  after  descanting 
freely  upon  men  and  things  in  that  quar 
ter,  declared  over  his  bottle  to  some  Amer 
ican  officers  who  were  his  chance  com 
panions  at  an  inn  in  Albany  :  "  In  short, 
gentlemen,  we  have  commissioners  there 
without  provisions;  quartermasters  with 
out  stores  ;  generals  without  troops  ;  and 
troops  without  discipline,  by  G — d." 

General  Schuyler  was  held  responsible 
by  many  of'the  New  Englanders  for  the 
disastrous  condition  of  things  at  the  North. 
"  In  a  time  of  adversity,"  says  Irving,  who 
never  fails  to  say  a  good  word  for  Schuy 
ler,  "  it  relieves  the  public  mind  to  have 
some  individual  upon  whom  to  charge  its 
disasters.  General  Schuyler,  at  present, 
was  to  be  the  victim."  He  was  charged 
with  having  neglected  to  send  forward 
supplies  and  reinforcements  to  the  troops 
in  Canada,  and  even  treason  was  hinted 
at  by  some  of  his  enemies,  in  the  bitter 
ness  of  their  hostility.  Schuyler  was  not 
a  popular  man  with  the  New  England 
officers,  many  of  whom  were  of  too  coarse 
a  mould  to  please  his  somewhat  fastidious 
tastes.  His  own  associations  were  aristo 


cratic,  while  theirs  were  of  the  true  demo 
cratic  stamp.  .  He  was  a  stickler  for  the 
respect  due  to  rank  ;  they,  with  a  dispo 
sition  to  yield  to  popular  majorities,  made 
common  cause  with  the  ranks.  He  was  re 
served  and  formal  toward  his  inferiors; 
they,  free  and  "  hail  fellows"  with  all,  as 
they  acknowledged  no  superiority.  Schuy 
ler  had  the  incidental  circumstances  of 
distinguished  birth,  and  of  refinement 
and  wealth,  to  give  him  personal  and  so 
cial  importance ;  the  New  England  officers 
were,  for  the  most  part,  men  of  humble 
origin,  of  little  education,  and,  when 
drawn  from  the  field  or  the  bench,  had 
nothing  but  their  military  pay.  He  was 
a  conventional  gentleman ;  they  made 
no  pretensions  to  anything  beyond  the 
rude  simplicity  of  honest  manners. 

Graydon,  in  his  gossiping  memoirs 
gives  us,  probably,  a  better  insight  than 
more  dignified  historians,  into  the  true 
cause  of  Schuyler's  unpopularity  with  the 
New  Englanders.  Graydon,  then  a  young 
officer  of  a  Pennsylvania  regiment,  had 
been  appointed  by  Congress  to  carry  a 
sum  of  money  in  specie  to  Schuyler.  He 
arrives  at  Lake  George,  and  gives  this 
account  of  his  visit  to  the  general : 
"  Though  General  Schuyler  has  been 
charged  with  such  haughtiness  of  demean 
or,  as  to  have  induced  the  troops  of  New 
England  to  decline  serving  under  his 
command,  the  reception  we  met  with, 
was  not  merely  courteous  but  kind.  His 
quarters  being  contracted,  a  bed  was  pre 
pared  for  us  in  his  own  apartment,  and 
we  experienced  civilities  that  were  flat 
tering  from  an  officer  of  his  high  rank. 
Though  thoroughly  the  man  of  business, 


264 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


he  was  also  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of 
the  world  ;  and  well  calculated  to  sustain 
the  reputation  of  our  army  in  the  eyes 
of  .the  British  officers  (disposed  to  depre 
ciate  it),  as  is  evidenced  by  the  account 
given  by  General  Burgoyne  of  the  man 
ner  in  which  he  was  entertained  by  him 
at  Albany.  But  that  he  should  have  been 
displeasing  to  the  Yankees,  I  am  not  at 
all  surprised  :  he  certainly  was  at  no  pains 
to  conceal  the  extreme  contempt  he  felt 
for  a  set  of  officers,  who  were  both  a  dis 
grace  to  their  stations  and  the  cause  in 
which  they  acted  !  Being  yet  a  stranger 
to  the  character  of  these  men,  and  the 
constitution  of  that  part  of  our  military 
force  which  in  Pennsylvania  was  consid 
ered  as  the  bulwark  of  the  nation,  I  must 
confess  my  surprise  at  an  incident  which 
took  place  while  at  dinner.  Beside  the 
general,  the  members  of  his  family,  and 
ourselves,  there  were  at  table  a  lady  and 
gentleman  from  Montreal.  A  New  Eng 
land  captain  came  in  upon  some  business, 
with  that  abject  servility  of  manner  which 
belongs  to  persons  of  the  meanest  rank  : 
he  was  neither  asked  to  sit  or  take  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  after  announcing  his  message, 
was  dismissed  with  that  peevishness  of 
tone  we  apply  to  a  low  and  vexatious  in 
truder.  This  man,  in  his  proper  sphere, 
might  have  been  entitled  to  better  treat 
ment;  but  when  presuming  to  thrust  him 
self  into  a  situation,  in  which  far  other 
qualifications  than  his  were  required,  and 
upon  an  occasion,  too,  which  involved 
some  of  the  most  important  of  human 
interests,  I  am  scarcely  prepared  to  say 
it  was  unmerited." 

Schuyler,  however,  found  a  nobler  ad 


vocate  in  Washington,  who,  on  sending 
to  him  a  letter  containing  charges  against 
his  conduct,  accompanied  by  documents 
which  had  been  received  at  headquarters 
from  a  committee  of  Kings  county,  wrote : 
"  From  these  you  will  readily  discover 
the  diabolical  and  insiduous  acts  and 
schemes  carrying  on  by  the  tories  and 
friends  of  government,  to  raise  distrust, 
dissensions,  and  divisions  among  us.  Hav 
ing  the  utmost  confidence  in  your  integ 
rity,  and  the  most  incontestable  proof  of 
your  great  attachment  to  our  common 
country  and  its  interests,  I  could  not  but 
look  upon  the  charge  against  you  with 
an  eye  of  disbelief,  and  seniiments  of  de 
testation  and  abhorrence ;  nor  should  I 
have  troubled  you  with  the  matter,  had 
I  not  been  informed  that  copies  were  sent 
to  different  committees  and  to  Governor 
Trumbull,  which  I  conceived  would  get 
abroad,  and  that  you,  should  you  find 
that  I  had  been  furnished  with  them, 
would  consider  my  suppressing  them  as 
an  evidence  of  my  belief,  or  at  best  of 
my  doubts,  of  the  charges." 

On  receiving  this  letter,  Schuyler  wrote 
to  Washington,  insisting  upon  a  court  of 
inquiry,  and  in  the  meantime  some  who 
had  been  ready  to  give  credence  to  the 
charges,  frankly  acknowledged  their  sus 
picions  unfounded,  although  there  were 
others  in  whom  the  feeling  against  the 
New  York  general  continued  to  rankle. 

General  Philip  Schuyler,  of  whom  we 
have  said  so  much,  and  of  whom  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  say  more,  was  born  in 
Albany,  on  the  22d  of  November,  1733. 
His  family  was  of  colonial  distinction. 
His  grandfather  was  mayor  of  Albany, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


A  SORRY  SET. 


265 


and  proprietor  of  one  of  the  Dutch  man 
ors,  which  descended  by  the  law  of  prim 
ogeniture  to  John  Schuyler  his  son,  and 
the  father  of  Philip  who,  being  the  eldest 
son,  inherited  the  estate,  and  with  unex 
ampled  generosity  divided  it  with  his 
brothers  and  sisters.  His  mother  was 
Cornelia  Van  Cortlandt,a  woman  of  great 
force  of  character,  and  remarkable  for 
the  graceful  dignity  of  her  manners. 


Philip  Schuyler  served  during  the  French 
campaign,  and  won  the  friendship  of  the 
gallant  and  young  Lord  Howe,  who  fell 
at  Ticonderoga,  He  was  a  prominent 
man  in  the  colonial  assembly,  and  an 
early  advocate  of  the  American  cause. 
In  1775  he  was  a  delegate  to  the  conti 
nental  Congress,  and  in  the  same  year 
was  appointed  third  major-general  of  the 
American  army. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

General  Putnam  at  New  York. — His  Cousin. — The  Appearance  of  the  Troops. — The  Officers. — Colonel  Putnam  coming 
Home  from  Market. — Alexander  Hamilton. — His  Life. — Personal  Appearance. — His  first  Acquaintance  with  General 
Greene. — Washington  at  New  York. — The  Provincial  Navy. — Commodore  Hopkins. — His  Exploits. — The  Engage 
ment  between  the  Alfred  and  Glasson. — The  American  Squadron  puts  into  New  London. — Hopkins  censured  by  Con 
gress. — Washington's  Despair  of  Reconciliation  with  Great  Britain. — Perplexities  of  Business. — Uncertainty  of  the 
Enemy's  Movements. 


1776, 


GENERAL  PUTNAM  had  arrived  at 
New  York  and  went  busily  to  work 
at  once,  carrying  out  the  plans  of  Lee  in 
fortifying  the  exposed  points  of  the  island, 
and  disciplining  the  troops.  His  cousin, 
Colonel  Rufus  Putnam,  had  been,  in  want 
of  a  better,  appointed  to  the  head  of  the 
engineer  department,  and  though,  like 
the  general,  an  illiterate  man,  seemed,  as 
Washington  said,  "  tolerably  well  quali 
fied  for  conducting  that  business."  Gray- 
don  says,  "  Mr.  Putnam  might  have  been 
a  good  practical  artist,  though  misterming 
the  Gorge  the  George?  The  same  viva 
cious  writer  gives  us  an  account  of  the 
troops  gathered  in  New  York  at  that 
time.  "  They  were,"  he  says,  "  chiefly 
from  the  eastern  provinces.  The  appear 
ance  of  things  was  not  much  calculated 
34 


to  excite  sanguine  expectations  in  the 
mind  of  a  sober  observer.  Great  num 
bers  of  people  were  indeed  to  be  seen, 
and  those  who  are  not  accustomed  to  the 
sight  of  bodies  under  arms  are  always 
prone  to  exaggerate  them.  But  this  pro 
pensity  to  swell  the  mass  had  not  an 
equal  tendency  to  convert  it  into  soldiery; 
and  the  irregularity,  want  of  discipline, 
bad  arms,  and  defective  equipment  in  all 
respects,  of  this  multitudinous  assemblage, 
gave  no  favorable  impression  of  its  prow 
ess." 

The  eastern  battalions,  especially,  seem 
ed  to  have  offended  the  eye  of  the  young 
military  aspirant.  The  ranks  were  un 
promising,  and  particularly  the  officers, 
"  who  were  in  no  single  respect  distin 
guishable  from  their  men,  other  than  in 


26  6 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u. 


the  colored  cockades,  which,  for  this  very 
purpose,  had  been  prescribed  in  general 
orders;  a  different  color  being  assigned 
to  the  officers  of  each  grade."  So  far  from 
aiming  at  a  deportment  which  might 
raise  them  above  their  privates,  and  thence 
prompt  them  to  due  respect  and  obedience 
to  their  commands,  the  object  was  by  hu 
mility,  to  preserve  the  existing  blessing 
of  equality :  an  illustrious  instance  of 
which  was  given  by  Colonel  Putnam,  the 
chief  engineer  of  the  army,  and  no  less 
a  personage  than  the  cousin  of  the  ma 
jor-general  of  that  name.  "  What,"  says 
a  person  meeting  him  one  day  with  a 
piece  of  meat  in  his  hand,  "carrying  home 
your  rations  yourself,  colonel !" — "  Yes," 
says  he,  "  and  I  do  it  to  set  the  officers  a 
good  example." 

There  were,  however,  other  officers 
who  better  pleased  the  fastidiousness  of 
our  annalist ;  those  of  New  York,  for  ex 
ample,  among  whom  was  Alexander  Ham 
ilton.  Hamilton  at  that  time  was  barely 
twenty  years  of  age,  and  had  not  only 
shown  that  ardor  of  youthful  spirit  and 
genius  which  always  excites  a  sympathetic 
glow  of  appreciation  among  the  young, 
but  had  wron,  by  the  premature  manli 
ness  of  his  character  and  judgment,  the 
respect  of  the  old.  Hamilton  was  born 
on  the  West  Indian  island  of  Nevis.  His 
father  was  a  Scotch  trading  captain  of 
the  name  of  Hamilton.  His  mother,  a 
Creole  woman,  of  Spanish  or  French  ori 
gin.  The  child,  not  over  carefully  watched 
by  parental  solicitude,  was  left  to  wander 
very  much  at  his  will.  On  one  occasion 
he  had  strayed  into  the  counting-house 
of  a  distinguished  merchant,  who  was  so 


much  struck  by  the  lively  and  precocious 
parts  of  the  boy,  that  he  proposed  to 
"  make  his  fortune  for  him."  The  benev 
olence  of  the  merchant  met  with  no  re 
sistance  from  his  natural  guardians,  and 
young  Hamilton  was  accordingly  taken 
by  him  into  his  counting-house.  Child 
as  he  was,  he  made  such  rapid  progress 
in  the  knowledge  of  business,  that  in  the 
temporary  absence  of  the  "head  of  the 
firm,"  he  was  left  sole  manager  of  its  con 
cerns,  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  From  the 
West  Indies  he  was  sent  to  assume  a  more 
important  station  in  the  New  York  branch 
of  his  patron's  establishment.  His  remark 
able  talents  and  the  great  zeal  he  had 
shown  for  study  induced  his  generous 
friends  to  give  him  the  benefit  of  a  clas 
sical  education.  He  was  accordingly  put 
to  school  at  Elizabethtown,  and  thence, 
in  17  73,  admitted  into  King's,  now  Colum 
bia  college,  with  the  view  of  preparing 
for  a  medical  education.  Young  Ham 
ilton  had  an  early  taste  for  literature, 
and,  by  frequent  clever  articles,  some 
times  lively  and  sometimes  severe,  writ 
ten  on  the  exciting  political  topics  of  the 
day,  showed  a  natural  power  and  acquired 
great  facility  as  a  writer. 

Yet  a  student,  he  had  an  occasion  to 
prove  that  he  could  speak  as  well  as  write. 
A  meeting  of  the  New  York  whig  citizens 
had  been  called  together  to  express  their 
indignation  at  the  new  blow  of  British 
tyranny  which  had  fallen  upon  the  New 
Englanders  in  the  shape  of 'the  Boston 
port-bill.  Naturally  self-reliant  and  with 
his  confidence  in  his  own  powers,  stimu 
lated  by  the  warmth  of  his  interest  in  the 
popular  cause, young  Hamilton,  then  hard- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 

ly  seventeen  years  of  age,  ventured  to 
address  the  meeting,  and  spoke  with  a 
force  of  eloquence  which,  from  so  juvenile 
an  orator,  surprised  £very  listener.  He 
now  took  an  active  part  in  the  political 
movements  of  the  times,  both  as  a  speak 
er  and  writer.  On  the  war  breaking  out 
he  formed  a  company  of  artillery  and  was 
chosen  the  captain.  He  was  thus  serving, 
when  Graydon  seems  to  have  marked 
him  out  as  an  exceptional  officer  for  his 
gentlemanlike  air  and  bearing/" 

Irving  gives  this  account  of  the  im 
pression  the  youthful  captain  made  upon 
another  more  acute  military  observer: 
"  As  General  Greene  one  day,  on  his  way 

*  At  a  later  period  in  life  he  is  described  by  another  ob 
server  as  bring  "  under  middle  size,  thin  in  person,  but  re 
markably  erect  and  dignified  in  his  deportment.  Plis  hair 
was  turned  back  from  his  forehead,  powdered,  and  collected 
in  a  club  behind.  His  complexion  was  exceedingly  fair,  and 
varying  from  this  only  by  the  almost  feminine  rosiness  of 
his  cheeks.  His  might  be  considered,  as  to  figure  and  color, 
a  very  handsome  face.  When  at  rest  it  had  rather  a  severe 
and  thoughtful  expression ;  but  when  engaged  in  conversa 
tion  it  easily  assumed  an  attractive  smile.  He  was  expected 
one  day  [the  writer  is  speaking  of  as  late  a  period  as  1795] 
at  dinner,  and  was  the  last  who  came.  When  he  entered  the 
room  it  was  apparent  from  the  respectful  attention  of  the 
company  that  he  was  a  distinguished  individual.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  blue  coat  with  bright  buttons;  the  skirts  of  his 
coat  were  unusually  long.  He  wore  a  white  waistcoat,  black 
silk  small  clothes,  white  silk  stockings.  The  gentleman  who 
received  him  as  a  guest,  introduced  him  to  such  of  the  com 
pany  as  were  strangers  to  him  ;  to  each  he  made  a  formal  bow, 
bending  very  low,  the  ceremony  of  shaking  hands  not  being 
observed.  The  fame  of  Hamilton  had  reached  every  one  who 
know  anything  of  public  men.  His  appearance  and  deport 
ment  accorded  with  the  dignified  distinction  to  which  he  had 
attained  in  public  opinion.  At  dinner,  whenever  he  engaged 
in  the  conversation,  every  one  listened  attentivelv.  His 
mode  of  speaking  was  deliberate  and  serious ;  and  his  voice 
engagingly  pleasant.  In  the  evening  of  the  same,  he  was  in 
a  mixed  assembly  of  both  sexes  ;  and  the  tranquil  reserve, 
noticed  at  the  dinner  table,  had  given  place  to  a  social  and 
playful  manner,  as  though  in  this  alone  he  was  ambitious  to 
excel."  —  Familiar  Letters  on  Public  Characters  and  Public 
Events,  from  the  Peace  of  1783  to  the  Peace  of  1815.  Bos 
ton.  1834. 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 


267 


to  Washington's  headquarters,  was  pas 
sing  through  a  field  —  then  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  city,  now  in  the  heart  of  its 
busiest  quarter,  and  known  as  "  the  park" 
—  he  paused  to  notice  a  provincial  com 
pany  of  artillery,  and  was  struck  with 
its  able  performances,  and  with  the  tact 
and  talent  of  its  commander.  He  was  a 
mere  youth,  apparently  about  twenty 
years  of  age ;  small  in  person  and  stature, 
but  remarkable  for  his  alert  and  manly 
bearing.  It  was  Alexander  Hamilton. 

"'  Greene  was  an  able  tactician  and 
quick  to  appreciate  any  display  of  mili 
tary  science;  a  little  conversation  sufficed 
to  convince  him  that  the  youth  before 
him  had  a  mind  of  no  ordinary  grasp  and 
quickness.  He  invited  him  to  his  quar 
ters,  and  from  that  time  cultivated  his 
friendship." 

Washington  followed  the  army  to  New 
York,  where  he  arrived  on  Saturday,  the 
thirteenth  of  April,  having  passed  through 
Providence,  Norwich,  and  New  London. 
While  at  the  latter  place,  Commodore 
Hopkins  put  into  the  harbor  after  a  cruise 
which  was  not  supposed  to  redound  much 
to  the  fame  of  the  embryo  provincial 
navy.  It  will  be  recollected  that  Con 
gress  had  in  December  established  the 
basis,  however  humble,  of  a  naval  force. 
The  following  were  the  resolutions  passed 
at  that  time  (December  22d,  1775.) 

"Resolved  that  the  following  naval  offi 
cers  be  appointed:  Ezek  Hopkins,  Esquire, 
commander-in-chicf;  Dudley  Salterstall, 
captain  of  the  Alfred;  Abraham  Whip- 
pie,  captain  of  the  Columbus ;  Nicholas 
Biddle,  captain  of  the  Andrea  Dora;  John 
B.  Hopkins,  captain  of  the  Cabot.  First 


2C8 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


Lieutenants,  John  Paul  Jones,  Rhodes 
Arnold,  —  —  Stansbury,  Heysted  Hacker, 
and  Jonathan  Pitcher.  Second  lieuten 
ants,  Benjamin  Seabury,  Joseph  Olney, 
Elisha  Warner,  Thomas  Weaver,  and 

McDougal.    Third  lieutenants,  John 

Fanning,  Ezekiel  Burroughs,  and  Daniel 
Yaughan. 

Most  of  the  vessels  were  purchased, 
and  ill  adapted  for  the  purpose  intended. 
There  was  not  a  tolerable  sailer  in  the 
whole  fleet.  The  Alfred  was  the  largest 
of  them  all,  and  she  had  only  a  main-deck 
battery  of  twenty,  and  quarter-deck  and 
forecastle  guns,  varying  from  two  to  ten. 
It  was  on  board  this  vessel  that  the  first 
American  man-of-war  ensign  was  ever 
hoisted,  and  it  Avas  done  by  John  Paul 
Jones,  then  a  lieutenant,  of  some  of  whose 
future  more  important  deeds  wre  shall 
have  occasion  to  speak.  The  device  of 
that  flag  is  supposed  to  have  been  the 
Massachusetts  one  of  a  pine  tree,  wTith 
the  addition  borrowed  from  Virginia  of 
a  coiled  rattlesnake  about  to  strike,  and 
the  motto,  "Don't  tread  on  me."  The 
squadron,  consisting  of  the  Alfred  twenty- 
four  guns,  Columbus  twenty,  Dora  four 
teen,  and  Cabot  fourteen,  having  been 
got  ready  for  sea,  rendezvoused  under 
Cape  Henlopen  early  in  February.  Soon 
after  they  were  joined  by  the  Hornet  ten, 
Wasp  eight,  and  Fly,  three  small  vessels 
which  had  been  equipped  at  Baltimore. 
Hopkins,  who  had  received  from  Congress 
the  title  of  commander-in-chief,  was  gen 
erally  spoken  of  by  the  sailors  as  commo 
dore,  although  not  seldom  styled  admiral. 
The  commodore,  as  we  shall  call  him, 
having  received  orders  to  cruise  to  the 


southward,  in  order  to  try  to  fall  in  with 
Lord  Dunmore's  fleet,  and  stop  its  ravages 
on  the  coast,  sailed  in  that  direction  on 
the  seventeenth  of  February.  He  was 
on  the  third  night  out,  going  before  the 
wind  with  a  stiff  breeze,  when  the  Hornet 
and  Fly  parted  company  and  were  not 
again  seen  during  the  cruise. 

Abaco,  in  the  Bahamas,  was  the  place 
of  rendezvous  appointed,  which  was 
reached  in  fifteen  days,  without  any  oc 
currence  of  moment.  The  island  of  New 
Providence  being  but  a  short  distance  and 
known  to  contain  a  supply  of  military 
stores,  Hopkins  determined  to  make  a 
descent  upon  *it.  Accordingly,  setting 
sail  one  night,  he  landed  on  the  island  ear 
ly  the  next  morning  some"  three  hundred 
marines,  who  met  with  no  resistance 
until  a  fort  was  reached  at  some  distance 
from  the  place  where  they  had  debarked. 
Here,  as  they  approached,  the  garrison 
fired  a  volley  at  them,  and  then  spiking 
the  guns  retired.  The  Americans  taking 
possession  of  the  fort  tarried  there  until 
next  day,  when  they  marched  into  the 
town  without  interruption.  The  of 
ficer  in  command  wrent  straightway  to 
the  governor  and  demanding  the  keys, 
which  were  given  up  at  once,  entered  the 
fort  within  the  town,  where  was  found  a 
good  supply  of  cannon  and  mortars. 
There  was,  however,  no  powder,  for  the 
governor,  having  taken  the  alarm,  had 
sent  it  all  off  the  night  before.  After 
having  shipped  their  plunder,  and  taken 
on  board  the  governor,  his  lieutenant, 
and  a  counsellor,  the  squadron  put  to  sea 
again  on  a  cruise. 

Hopkins'  course  was  now  to  the  north, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


AN  ESCAPE. 


269 


April  I. 


and  on  reaching  the  east  end  of  Long 
island  he  captured  a  British 
schooner,  and  on  the  day  after  a 
bomb  brig  of  eight  guns  in  command  of 
a  son  of  the  Wallace  who  had  rendered 
himself  so  notorious  on  the  New  England 
coast  by  his  brutal  violence.  As  the 
American  squadron,  somewhat  scattered, 
was  moving  on  during  the  night-watch, 
with  a  light  breeze  and  smooth  sea,  an 
enemy's  ship  was  observed  bearing  down 
apparently  for  the  Alfred.  Shortly,  how 
ever,  she  went  on  another  track,  which 
brought  her  in  the  direction  of  the  Cabot, 
when  the  younger  Hopkins,  who  com 
manded  the  latter,  closed  in  with  his  lit 
tle  vessel  and  fired  a  broadside  though 
with  not  much  effect,  as  his  metal  was 
too  light  to  do  much  damage  to  his  for 
midable  opponent.  The  enemy  returned 
the  fire  with  much  greater  force,  and  can 
nonaded  the  Cabot  so  heavily  that  she 
was  obliged  to  haul  off,  with  her  captain 
severely  wounded,  her  master  and  several 
of  the  crew  killed,  and  her  hull  and  rig 
ging  badly  damaged.  The  Alfred  now 
bore  up  and  ranged  alongside  of  the  Brit 
ish  ship,  which  proved  to  be  the  Glasgow 
of  twenty  guns,  Captain  Tyringham 
Howe.  The  two  were  at  once  engaged 
as  hot  as  possible,  broadside  to  broadside, 
and  both  were  delivering  their  fires  with 
great  spirit  when  the  Providence  came 
up  under  the  stern  of  the  enemy,  and  the 
Dora  approached  near  enough  to  give 
some  effect  to  her  guns.  For  nearly  an 
hour  they  were  thus  briskly  keeping  up 
the  fight,  when  a  shot  from  the  Glasgow 
unfortunately  carried  away  the  block  and 
wheel  rope  of  the  Alfred,  which  made 


her  unmanageable,  and  she  broached  to. 
This  gave  the  British  ship  an  opportuni 
ty  to  rake  her  effectually.  The  day  was 
now  beginning  to  dawn,  and  Howe  could 
see,  as  the  several  vessels  of  the  Ameri 
can  squadron  bore  up,  the  strength  of 
his  antagonist.  He  accordingly  found  it 
prudent  to  give  up  the  battle,  and  making 
all  sail  he  could  crowd  upon  his  ship  stood 
in  for  Newport. 

The  squadron  did  its  best  to  overtake 
him,  and  kept  up  a.  running  fire  in  pur 
suit,  but  the  Glasgow  proved  the  better 
sailer  and  distanced  the  American  vessels 
which  were  so  deep  with  the  stores  with 
which  they  had  been  laden  at  New  Prov 
idence,  and  not  very  fast  goers  at  their 
best,  that  they  could  not  keep  up.  Hop 
kins,  as  they  approached  Newport,  fear 
ing  that  the  British  fleet  off  that  harbor 
might  come  out,  gave  up  the  chase,  and, 
contenting  himself  with  the  capture  of 
the  Glasgow's  tender,  took  his  vessels  into 
New  London. 

The  enemy  was  a  ship  of  twenty  guns, 
with  a  crew  of  a  hundred  and  twenty 
souls,  and  was  well  appointed  in  every 
respect,  as  she  was  well  handled  by  her 
commander.  Her  loss  was  slight,  how 
ever,  having  had  only  one  man  killed  and 
three  wounded.  The  Alfred  had  six  men 
killed  and  six  wounded.  The  Cabot  had 
four  killed  and  seven  wounded,  and  one 
man  on  board  the  Columbus  lost  his  arm 
from  a  shot  from  the  enemy  during  the 
chase.  The  hull  and  rigging  on  both 
sides  were  well  cut  up,  and  showed  the 
severity  of  the  encounter. 

Hopkins'  conduct  was  so  much  disap 
proved  that  he  was  summoned  to  answer 


270 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


May  15, 


for  it  before  Congress.  He  was  charged 
with  disobedience  of  orders  for  having 
returned  northward  after  his  descent  up 
on  New  Providence,  as  that  action  was 
deemed  a  poor  compensation  for  the  ex 
pense  of  fitting  out  a  fleet,  and  by  no 
means  an  heroic  beginning  to  the  history 
of  the  American  navy.  Hopkins, 
on  reaching  Philadelphia,  did  not 
succeed  in  satisfying  Congress  as  to  the 
propriety  of  his  conduct,  and  he  conse 
quently  received  the  censure  of  the  house. 

Washington  preceded  the  arrival  of 
some  of  his  troops,  which  had  set  out  on 
the  same  day  with  him  from  Cambridge. 
Although  on  his  journey  he  had  done 
everything  in  his  power  to  expedite  the 
march,  he  found,  from  the  badness  of  the 
roads  and  the  difficulty  of  procuring  teams 
for  bringing  the  stores  and  baggage,  that 
his  army  would  be  still  delayed  for  a 
week  or  more  in  reaching  New  York. 

Washington,  being  now,  after  the  tri 
umph  of  Boston,  relieved  from  the  duties 
of  conducting  aspecial  military  operation, 
began  to  be  more  conscious  of  the  scope 
of  the  cause  of  which  he  had  been  chosen 
leader.  He  had  given  up  all  hopes  of 
reconciliation  with  the  mother-country, 
and  confessed  freely  his  conviction  that 
he  was  engaged  in  a  struggle  not  only 
for  freedom  but  independence.  He  gave 
but  little  heed  to  what  he  heard  of  the 
plans  of  the  British  for  negotiation  with 
the  view  to  bring  back  the  colonies  to 
their  loyalty.  He  was  told  that  the  Eng 
lish  government  was  about  to  send  over 
a  large  number  of  commissioners  to  Amer 
ica,  and  that  they  were  to  make  advances 
to  the  colonies  separately.  Mark  how 


[rAirr  n. 

he  scouts  the  idea !  "  The  account  given 
of  the  business  of  the  commissioners  from 
England  seems  to  be  of  a  piece  with 
Lord  North's  conciliatory  motion  last 
year,  built  upon  the  same  foundation,  and. 
if  true,  that  they  are  to  be  divided  among 
the  colonies  to  offer  terms  of  pardon,  it 
is  as  insulting  as  that  nation ;  and  only 
designed,  after  stopping  all  intercourse 
with  us,  to  set  us  up  to  view  in  Great 
Britain  as  a  people  that  will  not  hearken 
!  to  any  propositions  of  peace.  Was  there 
;  ever  anything  more  absurd  than  to  repeal 
|  the  very  acts  which  have  introduced  all 
this  confusion  and  bloodshed,  and  at  the 
same  enact  a  law  to  restrain  all  intercourse 
with  the  colonies  for  opposing  them  ? 
The  drift  and  designs  are  obvious;  but 
is  it  possible  that  any  sensible  nation  upon 
earth  can  be  imposed  upon  by  such  a  cob 
web  scheme  or  gauze  covering?  But 
1  enough." 

This  was  written  while  he  was  at  Cam- 
I  bridge,  and  although  emphatic  in  denun 
ciation  of  British  policy,  it  still  shows 
from  the  very  fact  of  arguing  the  ques 
tion,  that  there  was  in  Washington's  heart 
a  lurking  hope  of  accommodation.  Again, 
still  in  Cambridge,  he  writes :  "  If  the 
commissioners  do  not  conic  over  with 
full  and  ample  powers  to  treat  with  Con 
gress,  I  sincerely  wish  they  may  never 
put  their  feet  on  American  ground,  as  it 
must  be  self-evident,  in  the  other  case, 
that  they  will  come  over  with  iusiduous 
intentions,  to  distract,  divide,  and  create 
as  much  confusion  as  possible.  How,  then, 
can  any  man,  let  his  passion  for  reconcil 
iation  be  ever  so  strong,  be  so  blinded 
and  misled  as  to  embrace  a  measure  evi- 


Apr.  15. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 

dently  designed  for  his  destruction  ?  No 
man  does,  no  man  can  wish  the  restora 
tion  of  peace  more  fervently  than  I  do ; 
but  I  hope,  whenever  made,  it  will  be  on 
such  terms  as  will  reflect  honor  upon  the 
councils  and  wisdom  of  America."  This, 
too,  is  emphatic  language,  but  it  does  not 
express  such  a  decided  hopelessness  of 
England  as  that  which,  only  a  fortnight 
later,  he  uses  in  writing  to  John  Adams. 
It  is  true  Washington  begins,  "  I 
have  ever  thought,"  but  he  has 
not  before  given  such  'a  definite  form  to 
his  views.  "I  have  ever  thought,"  he 
says,  "  and  am  still  of  opinion,  that  no 
terms  of  accommodation  will  be  offered 
by  the  British  ministry,  but  such  as  can 
not  be  accepted  by  America.  We  have 
nothing,  my  dear  sir,  to  depend  upon  but 
the  protection  of  a  kind  Providence,  and 
unanimity  among  ourselves." 

While  Washington  became  thus  con 
vinced  of  the  greatness  and  probable 
length  of  the  struggle  in  which  he  was 
engaged,  he  found  himself  plunged  deeper 
and  deeper,  from  day  to  day,  in  the  per 
plexities,  troubles,  dissensions,  and  com 
plications  of  business,  his  military  leader 
ship  of  the  patriot  cause  necessarily  in 
volved  him.  The  recruiting  went  on 
slowly,  and  when  troops  were  got  it  was 
hard  to  find  equipments  for  them.  There 
was  equal  difficulty  in  obtaining  arms 
and  men.  Provision  was  not  only  to  be 
made  for  the  defence  of  New  York  and 
Long  island,  but  reinforcements  were  to 
be  sent  to  Canada.  Officers  were  com 
plaining  for  want  of  pay,  and  militia-men 
were  insisting  upon  returning  home.  The 
tories  of  New  York  were  exciting  anxiety 


WASHINGTON  IN  NEW  YORK. 


271 


by  their  relations  with  Governor  Tryon 
and  the  enemy's  ships  in  the  harbor,  and 
news  had  arrived  of  the  great  prepara 
tions  made  by  the  British  ministers  to 
crush,  as  they  believed,  the  "  rebels." 

With  these  cares  and  labors  we  can 
well  understand  how  Washington  should 
be  so  devoted  to  business  as  to  declare, 
"  I  give  in  to  no  kind  of  amusement  my 
self;  and  consequently  those  about  me 
can  have  none,  but  are  confined  from 
morning  till  evening,  hearing  and  answer 
ing  the  applications  and  letters  of  one 
and  another."  To  his  brother  Augustine, 
too,  he  gives  "  the  hurry  and  multiplicity 
of  business  in  which  I  am  constantly  en 
gaged  from  the  time  I  rise  out  of  my  bed 
until  I  go  into  it  again"  as  the  true  cause 
for  not  writing  oftener. 

Washington,  however, struggled  brave 
ly  with  all  these  cares  and  embarrassments. 
He  sent  as  many  troops  as  he  could  spare 
to  Canada.  He  checked  the  tories  by 
putting  a  stop  to  their  correspondence 
with  the  enemy, by  his  own  decided  meas 
ures,  and  a  firm  and  dignified  appeal  to 
the  New  York  committee  of  safety.  He 
only  succeeded  after  much  difficulty  in 
gathering  together  an  army  of  ten  thou 
sand  men,  and  while  disciplining  them  and 
keeping  them  busy  at  the  works  of  de 
fence,  strove,  by  every  effort,  to  prepare 
himself  for  the  enemy. 

Washington  was  perplexed  about  the 
intentions  of  Howe,  who,  with  his  army 
strongly  reinforced  by  troops  from  Great 
Britain,  might  be  daily  expected  to  arrive 
and  begin  the  campaign.  The  whole 
American  army  was  so  small  as  yet  that 
to  make  it  effective  it  was  necessary  to 


272 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    IT. 


concentrate  the  forces.  When  Congress, 
therefore,  requested  the  opinion  of  Wash 
ington  as  to  whether  it  was  necessary  to 
send  more  troops  to  Canada,  he  answer 
ed  them  in  these  dubious  words:  "With 
respect  to  sending  more  troops 
to  that  country,  I  am  really  at 
a  loss  what  to  advise,  as  it  is  impossible 
at  present  to  know  the  designs  of  the 
enemy.  Should  they  send  the  whole  force 
under  General  Howe  up  the  river  St. 


April  26. 


Lawrence  to  relieve  Quebec  and  recover 
Canada,  the  troops  gone  and  now  going 
will  be  insufficient  to  stop  their  progress  ; 
and  should  they  think  proper  to  send 
that  or  an  equal  force  this  way  from  Great 
Britain,  for  the  purpose  of  possessing  this 
city  and  securing  the  navigation  of  Hud 
son's  river,  the  troops  left  here  will  not 
be  sufficient  to  oppose  them  ;  and  yet  for 
anything  wre  know,  I  think  it  not  improb 
able  they  may  attempt  both." 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Arnold  at  Montreal. — The  Disaster  at  the  "  Cedars." — Arnold  sends  forward  a  Deputation  of  Caghnawaga  Indians. — Ar 
nold  arrives  at  St.  Annes. — Perplexed. — Takes  a  View  of  the  Enemy. — Retires. — Comes  to  Terms  with  the  Enemv 
though  unwillingly. — General  Sullivan. — His  Life. — Affairs  in  Canada. — Sullivan  sanguine. — Washington  gives  him 
some  Discreet  Advice — Washington's  Opinion  of  Sullivan. — Thompson  sent  by  Sullivan  to  attack  the  Enemy  at  Three 
Rivers. — The  unfortunate  Result. — Sanguine  Sullivan  triumphing  in  an  imaginary  Victory. — His  bright  Anticipations 
clouded. — His  Retreat. — The  Enemy  strengthened  by  fresh  Troops. — Burgoyne  leading  the  Advance.  —  Sullivan  pur 
sued. — Arnold  abandons  Montreal,  and  retreats  with  the  Enemy  close  at  his  Heels. — Junction  with  Sullivan  at  St. 
Johns. — Arnold's  Energy  and  Courage. — The  last  Man  to  leave  the  Enemy's  Shores. — Sullivan  reaches  Crown  Point. 
— The  end  of  the  Northern  Campaign. — Adams's  Survey  of  its  Misfortunes. 


1776, 


AFTER  Arnold  had,  in  consequence 
of  his  accident  and  his  dissatisfaction 
Avith  the  bearing  of  General  Wooster,  his 
superior  in  command,  retired  to  Montreal, 
he  remained  there  for  several  weeks  with 
little  inclination,  in  consequence  of  illness, 
for  service, and  without  any  especial  work 
to  do.  He  was  now,  however,  aroused 
to  activity  by  the  disaster  at  the  "  Cedars," 
which  he  determined  to  make  an  effort 
to  repair.  Before  tracing  Arnold's  move 
ments,  however,  let  us  describe  the  affair 
which  prompted  them. 

Early  in  May  three  hundred  and  ninety 
Americans  were  posted,  under  Colonel 
Beadle,  in  a  small  fort  at  a  place  called 


the  Cedars,  situated  on  the  St.  Lawrence 
about  forty  miles  above  Montreal.  Cap 
tain  Forster,  a  British  officer  with  forty 
regulars,  a  hundred  Canadians,  and  five 
hundred  Indians,  descended  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Oswegatchie,  and  approach 
ed  the  fort.  The  American  colonel  in 
command,  as  soon  as  he  became  aware 
of  this  approach,  cowardly  hurried  off  to 
Montreal,  under  the  plea  of  seeking  re 
inforcements,  and  left  the  command  of 
the  garrison  to  Major  Butterfield,  who, 
emulating  the  faintheartedness  of  his  su 
perior,  surrendered  the  fort  to  Forster 
without  a  blow. 

Major  Henry  Sherbourne  was  immedi 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


AFFAIR  AT  THE  CEDARS. 


273 


ately,  on  the  arrival  of  Beadle  at  Montre 
al,  although  that  discreet  colonel  refused 
himself  to  return,  despatched  with  one 
hundred  and  forty  men  to  reinforce  the 
garrison  at  the  Cedars.  Sherbourne,  how 
ever,  was  too  late,  for  the  garrison  had 
surrendered  the  day  before  he  had  got 
across  Lake  St.  Louis.  He,  however,  was 
not  aware  of  the  fact,  and  leaving  forty 
of  his  men  as  a  rear  guard,  pushed  on 
with  the  hundred  others,  and  had  reached 
within  five  miles  of  the  fort,  when  he 
was  set  upon  by  five  hundred  Canadians 
and  Indians  from  under  the  cover  of  a 
thick  wood.  The  Americans  defended 
themselves  as  best  they  could  for  more 
than  an  hour  and  a  half  against  the  fire 
of  the  enemy,  but  were  finally  completely 
overwhelmed  by  the  Indians,  who  rushed 
upon  and  disarmed  them.  They  had  al 
ready  lost  in  action  twenty-eight  killed 
and  wounded,  when  many  more  were 
massacred  in  cold  blood  by  the  savages, 
and  the  rest,  being  stripped  almost  naked, 
were  driven  to  the  fort  and  delivered  up 
to  Captain  Forster,  from  whom  the  Amer 
icans  now  learned,  for  the  first  time,  that 
Butterfield  had  surrendered  himself  and 
garrison.  The  enemy  had  but  some 
twenty-two  killed,  among  whom  was  a 
chief  of  the  Senecas,  whose  death  greatly 
excited  the  ferocity  of  the  savages. 

This  was  the  affair  at  the  Cedars  which 
had  stirred  Arnold  to  revenge,  and  he 
hastened  with  about  eight  hundred  men 
to  inflict  it.  On  setting  out,  he  sent  for 
ward  some  Caghnawaga  Indians  in  his 
interest,  to  demand  of  the  hostile  savages 
to  deliver  up  the  American  prisoners  at 
once,  or  in  case  they  refused,  to  declare 
35 


May  26. 


to  them  that  he  would  sacrifice  every  In 
dian  who  should  fall  into  his  hands,  and 
burn  their  villages. 

On  reaching  St.  Annes,  at  the 
western  extremity  of  the  island 
upon  which  Montreal  is  built,  Arnold  and 
his  men  could  see  the  American  prisoners, 
as  they  were  being  taken  off  by  the  ene 
my  in  their  batteaux  from  an  island  about 
a  league  distant,  and  conveyed  to  the  op 
posite  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  Arnold 
was  now  impatient  for  the  arrival  of  his 
batteaux  which  were  coming  down  the  riv 
er,  but  which  he  and  most  of  his  men,  hav 
ing  reached  by  land,  had  preceded.  The 
batteaux  were  delayed  until  sunset,  and 
in  the  meantime  Arnold's  Caghnewagas 

O  O 

came  back  with  an  answer  to  his  demand 
and  a  threat  from  the  hostile  Indians,  who 
sent  word  that  they  had  five  hundred 
American  prisoners  in  their  power,  whom 
they  would  put  to  death  if  any  attempt 
was  made  to  rescue  them,  and  give  no 
quarter  to  any  others  they  might  capture. 
Arnold  was  perplexed.  "Torn,"  he 
says,  "  by  the  conflicting  passions  of  re 
venge  and  humanity;  a  sufficient  force 
to  take  ample  revenge,  raging  for  action, 
urged  me  on  one  hand :  and  humanity 
for  five  hundred  unhappy  wretches,  who 
were  on  the  point  of  being  sacrificed  if 
our  vengeance  was  not  delayed,  pleaded 
equally  strong  on  the  other."  He,  how 
ever,  decided  not  to  turn  back,  and  crowd 
ing  his  men  into  the  batteaux,  rowed 
to  the  island  whence  he  had  seen  the 
prisoners  taken  off  He  found  there  five 
Americans  still  left,  who  were  almost 
bare  of  clothes  and  nearly  famished. 
From  these  he  learned  that  all  the  others 


274 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


had  been  carried  off  to  Quinze  Chiens, 
with  the  exception  of  two  who,  being 
too  ill  to  move,  had  been  killed.  Arnold 
now  crossed  with  his  boats  toward  Quinze 
Chiens,  which  was  about  four  miles  below 
on  the  opposite  shore.  When  within  less 
than  a  mile  of  the  shore,  the  enemy  be 
gan  firing  at  him  with  their  field-pieces 
and  musketry.  As  the  day  was  closing, 
and  Arnold,  not  knowing  the  ground, 
feared  to  expose  his  men  to  the  risks  of 
a  night  attack,  he  returned. 

On  reaching  St.  Annes  in  the  evening, 
a  council-of-war  was  immediately  called, 
when  it  was  determined  by  all  the  offi 
cers  that  an  attack  should  be  made  on 
the  next  morning.  The  whole  force  was 
astir  with  busy  preparations  until  past 
midnight,  when  a  flag  of  truce  was  ob 
served  coming  from  the  enemy.  It  was 
borne  by  Lieutenant  Park,  who  came  to 
submit  to  Arnold  a  copy  of  the  articles 
which  had  been  agreed  to  between  Major 
Sherbourne  and  Captain  Forster  for  the 
exchange  of  prisoners — Sherbourne  hav 
ing  been  informed  by  Forster  that  the 
prisoners  who  were  crowded  together  in 
the  church  at  Quinze  Chiens  would  cer 
tainly  fall  a  prey  to  the  savages,  whose 
ferocity  that  British  officer  professed  to 
be  unable  to  control,  unless  the  Ameri 
cans  submitted  to  the  terms  proposed. 
Sherbourne,  under  these  circumstances, 
was  forced  to  sign  them,  and  Arnold  was 
now  expected  to  confirm  the  act  of  his 
subordinate  in  command.  Arnold  was 
greatly  vexed  that  he  should  be  thus 
balked  of  his  purpose  by  this  ungenerous 
advantage  taken  by  the  enemy,  and, 
though  he  longed  to  have  his  revenge 


upon  "these  savages  and  still  more  savage 
British  troops,"  could  not  but  give  heed 
to  the  proposition,  as  Captain  Forster  de 
clared  positively,  that  the  fate  of  the 
American  prisoners  depended  upon  his 
confirmation  of  Sherbourne's  capitulation. 

There  was  one  condition  which  Arnold 
rejected  at  once  without  hesitation.  By 
this  it  was  insisted  that  the  American 
prisoners  should  not  again  take  up  arms, 
and  that  they  should  pledge  themselves 
not  to  give  any  information,  by  word  of 
mouth,  or  writing,  or  by  signs,  which 
might  be  prejudicial  to  his  majesty's  ser 
vice.  The  other  terms,  having  been  mod 
ified  by  Arnold  and  consented  to  by  For 
ster,  were  finally  agreed  to.  By  these  it 
was  arranged  that  the  Americans  should 
be  released  on  parole,  in  exchange  for 
British  prisoners  of  equal  rank,  and  repa 
ration  made  for  all  property  which  had 
been  destroyed  by  the  continental  troops. 
It  was  moreover  added,  that  four  Ameri 
can  captains  should  be  sent  to  Quebec, 
and  remain  as  hostages  until  the  exchange 
should  be  effected,  while  six  days  were 
allowed  to  the  British  for  the  delivery  of 
the  prisoners  at  St.  Johns.  Congress  re 
fused  to  ratify  these  terms,  although 
Washington  expressed  strongly  the  opin 
ion  that  it  was  a  military  convention, 
which,  although  extorted  by  a  barbarous 
threat,  was  sufficiently  regular  to  be  bind 
ing.  Arnold  returned  to  Montreal,  full 
of  fierce  rage  at  being  thwarted  in  his 
revenge,  and  burned  for  a  more  favorable 
occasion  to  give  it  vent. 

General  John  Sullivan,  it  will  be  recol 
lected,  had  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Sorel  with  reinforcements,  and  assumed 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CHARACTER  OF  SULLIVAN. 


275 


the  command  of  the  troops,  immediately 
after  the  death  of  Thomas.  Sullivan  was 
a  New-England  man,  having  been  born 
at  Berwick,  Maine,  in  1740.  He  was  now 
in  the  vigor  of  life,  and  although  origin 
ally  a  farmer,  and  subsequently  a  lawyer, 
he  had  already,  in  addition  to  the  usual 
military  training  of  his  fellow-provincials, 
acquired  some  military  experience.  After 
retiring  from  the  continental  Congress, 
of  which  he  had  been  a  member,  he  made 
his  first  essay  in  warfare  as  a  joint  leader, 
with  Langdon,  the  speaker  of  the  New 
Hampshire  Congress,  of  a  small  party  of 
continentals  in  an  attack  on  Fort  William 
and  Mary  at  Portsmouth,  and  succeeded 
in  carrying  off  all  the  cannon.  On  the 
organization  of  the  American  army,  in 
1775,  Sullivan  was  appointed  one  of  the 
eight  brigadier-generals,  and  in  '76,  a 
major-general.  Having  served  under 
Washington  at  the  siege  of  Boston,  he 
now,  so  rapid  was  the  experience  of  those 
days,  presented  himself  with  almost  the 
claims  of  a  military  veteran. 

Affairs  in  Canada  seemed  to  have  been 
in  the  worst  possible  condition  just  pre 
vious  to  the  arrival  of  Sullivan,  for  the 
commissioners  sent  there  by  Congress 
give  this  doleful  account :  "  You  will  have/' 
they  say,  writing  from  Montreal, 
"  a  faint  idea  of  our  situation,  if 
you  figure  to  yourself  an  army,  broken 
and  disheartened,  half  of  it  under  inocu 
lation  and  other  diseases,  soldiers  without 
pay,  without  discipline,  and  altogether 
reduced  to  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  de 
pending  on  the  scanty  and  precarious 
supplies  of  a  few  half-starved  cattle,  and 
trifling  quantities  of  flour,  which  have 


hitherto  been  picked  up  in  different  parts 
of  the  country."  Sullivan's  presence,  ac 
cording  to  his  own  letters,  which  gener 
ally  gave  a  more  rose-colored  view  of 
things  than  was  justified  by  reality,  pro 
duced  a  most  encouraging  effect  upon  the 
hitherto  suffering  and  disheartened  troops. 

"It  was,"  he  writes,  "really  affecting 
to  see  the  banks  of  the  Sorel  lined  with 
men,  women,  and  children,  leaping  and 
clapping  their  hands  for  joy,  to  see  me 
arrive ;  it  gave  no  less  joy  to  General 
Thompson,  who  seemed  to  be  wholly  for 
saken,  and  left  to  fight  against  an  une 
qual  force  or  retreat  before  them."  He 
continued  to  write  in  the  same  strain,  and 
while  every  one  else  was  down  with  de 
spair,  he  was  exalted  with  confident  hope. 
"I  venture  to  assure  you,"  he  writes  to 
Washington,  "  and  the  Congress,  that  I 
can,  in  a  few  days,  reduce  the  army  to 
order,  and  with  the  assistance  of  a  kind 
Providence,  put  a  new  face  to  our  affairs 
here,  which,  a  few  days  since,  seemed  al 
most  impossible."  It  was  no  wonder, 
then,  that  with  such  an  expression  of  san 
guine  self-confidence  from  Sullivan,  that 
Washington  himself,  in  spite  of  the  cool 
calculations  of  the  Congressional  com 
missioners,  and  the  melancholy  forebo 
dings  of  the  saturnine  Schuyler,  should 
grow  more  hopeful. 

"  Before  it  [the  letter  from  Sullivan  just 
quoted]  came  to  hand,"  writes  Washing 
ton,  "  I  almost  dreaded  to  hear  from  Can 
ada,  as  my  advices  seemed  to  promise 
nothing  favorable,  but  rather  further  mis 
fortunes.  But  I  now  hope  that  our  af 
fairs,  from  the  confused,  distracted,  and 
almost  forlorn  state,  in  which  you  found 


27fi 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


them.,  will  emerge  and  assume  an  aspect  of 
order  and  success."  In  a  postscript,  how 
ever,  Washington  apparently  becomes 
somewhat  dubious  of  Sullivan's  glowing 
account  of  affairs,  and  puts  him  on  his 
guard  against  the  dangers  of  deception. 
"  Knowing  your  great  zeal,"  says  Wash 
ington,  "for  the  cause  of  your  country, 
and  your  desire  to  render  her  every  pos 
sible  service,  I  must  caution  you  not  to 
put  too  much  to  the  hazard  in  your  ex 
ertions  to  establish  her  rights,  and  to 
receive  with  a  proper  degree  of  caution 
the  professions  which  the  Canadians  may 
make.  They  have  the  character  of  an 
ingenious,  artful  people,  and  very  capable 
of  finesse  and  cunning.  Therefore,  my 
advice  is,  that  you  put  not  too  much  in 
their  power;  but  seem  to  trust  them, 
rather  than  actually  do  it  too  far.  I 
would  also  have  you  keep  all  your  posts 
as  you  go,  well  secured,  to  guard  against 
any  treacherous  conduct." 

Washington  knew  Sullivan  very  well, 
and  the  next  day  after  writing  the  post 
script  just  quoted,  he  had  occasion  to  give 
an  opinion  of  him,  apropos  to  a  private  let 
ter  wThich  he  had  received,  and  from  which 
he  inferred  that  Sullivan  was  aiming  at 
the  command  in  Canada,  "Whether  he 
wants  it  or  not,"  Washington  writes,  "  is 
a  matter  to  be  considered ;  and  that  it 
may  be  considered  with  propriety,!  think 
it  my  duty  to  observe,  as  of  my  own 
knowledge,  that  he  is  active,  spirited,  and 
zealously  attached  to  the  cause.  That  he 
does  not  want  abilities,  many  members 
of  Congress  can  testify  ;  but  he  has  his 
wants,  and  he  has  his  foibles.  The  latter 
are  manifested  in  his  little  tincture  of 


vanity,  and  in  an  over  desire  of  being 
popular,  which  now  and  then  lead  him 
into  embarrassments." 

Sullivan  was  eager  to  realize  his  san 
guine  expectations,  and  accordingly  he 
sent  out  a  force  of  eighteen  hundred  men 
under  General  Thompson,  to  attack  the 
British  at  Three  Rivers,  while  he 
himself  remained  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Sorel,  engaged  in  constructing  works 
for  the  defence  of  that  post.  Thompson 
in  the  meantime  having  embarked  his 
men  in  fifty  boats,  coasted  along  the  south 
side  of  that  wide  part  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
called  Lake  St.  Peter,  until  he  reached 
Nicolet,  whence,  waiting  until  night,  he 
floated  down  the  river  and  passed  to  the 
left  bank,  within  a  few  miles  of  Three 
Rivers.  It  was  intended  to  have  reached 
this  place  at  night,  in  order  to  take  the 
enemy  by  surprise.  There  had  been, 
however,  an  unexpected  delay,  so  that 
it  was  near  daylight  when  the  troops 
landed. 

In  order  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of 
time,  a  forced  march  had  to  be  made,  and 
the  men  were  hurried  on  to  a  run ;  and 
when  they  had  thus  gone  for  several 
miles,  and  were  greatly  fatigued,  it  was 
discovered  that  the  wrong  road  had  been 
taken  through  the  ignorance  or  the  de 
ception  of  the  Canadian  guide.  They 
were  obliged  to  turn  back,  and  as  they 
hurriedly  retraced  their  steps  the  day 
began  to  break,  and  all  hope  of  a  night 
attack  was  gone.  They,  however,  suc 
ceeded  in  finding  the  proper  route,  and 
continued  to  move  on  briskly,  until,  by 
a  turn  in  the  road,  they  came  in  sight 
of  the  enemy's  shipping  lying  off  Three 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


DEFEAT  AT  THREE  RIVERS. 


27- 


Rivers.  Thompson  knew  that  it  was  use 
less  to  attempt  to  conceal  his  approach, 
and  therefore  ordering  his  drums  to  beat 
And  fifes  to  play,  marched  on  until  he 
came  within  range  of  the  men-of-war's 
guns,  when  he  turned  off  from  the  road 
by  the  river,  to  another  at  a  right  angle 
with  it,  and  thus  avoided  exposure  to 
the  fire  of  the  enemy.  The  Americans 
had,  however,  got  so  close  to  the  ships, 
that  the  orders  to  land,  resounding 
through  the  speaking-trumpets  of  the 
deck-officers,  were  distinctly  heard. 

Thompson  having  been  obliged  to 
leave  the  route  by  the  river,  prepared  to 
enter  the  town  by  the  rear.  When  within 
about  two  miles,  there  was  found  a  great 
morass,  through  which  the  men  had  to 
flounder  up  to  their  waists.  They,  how 
ever,  succeeded  in  struggling  through, 
and  reached  some  solid  ground,  where 
Thompson  was  enabled  to  form  his  men. 
The  enemy  were  ready,  with  a  large  force 
under  General  Fraser,  to  receive  them, 
and  as  soon  as  the  Americans  began  to 
advance,  they  were  met  by  so  severe  a 
fire  that  they  were  staggered  at  once  and 
thrown  into  confusion.  Thompson  tried 
to  rally  his  men,  but  in  vain ;  on  they 
fled,  each  man  looking  out  for  himself, 
straggling  back  again  through  the  mo 
rass,  and  making  his  way  as  rapidly  as 
possible  along  the  road  by  which  he 
had  come.  Hearing  from  the  Canadians 
they  met  that  the  enemy  had  sent  a  de- 
achrnent  with  artillery  to  seize  their 
ooats  and  cut  off  their  retreat,  and 
knowing  that  there  was  a  large  body 
in  hot  pursuit  of  them,  the  straggling 
fugitives  were  brought  to  a  halt,  but 


entirely  bewildered  how  to  act.  At 
this  moment,  Colonel  Maxwell,  taking 
advantage  of  the  pause  in  the  flight, 
called  together  the  officers  about  him, 
and  asked, "  What  shall  we  do  ?  Shall  we 
fight  those  in  the  front  or  in  the  rear  ? 
or  shall  we  tamely  submit  ?  or  shall  we 
turn  off  into  the  woods,  and  let  each  man 
shift  for  himself?" 

The  last  question  was  the  only  one 
they  were  prepared  to  answer,  and  with 
an  affirmative  reply  to  it,  the  fugitives, 
without  more  ado,  scattered  off  down  the 
hill,  and  through  the  woods  to  the  river. 
As  they  fled,  the  enemy  in  their  rear  fired 
at  them,  but  fortunately  without  much 
effect.  The  boats  had  been  removed  out 
of  harm's  way,  by  those  left  in  the  care 
of  them,  and  thus  a  great  number  of  the 
Americans  succeeded  in  escaping,  by 
straggling  parties,  after  wandering  dur 
ing  the  night  in  the  covert  of  the  forest. 
General  Thompson  and  Colonel  Irvine, 
the  second  in  command,  several  other 
officers,  and  some  two  hundred  of  the 
men,  were  left  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
while  nearly  thirty  were  killed.  The 
king's  troops  lost  hardly  a  man.  While 
this  complete  rout  of  Thompson's  force 
was  taking  place  under  the  hot  cannon 
ade  of  the  British,  Sullivan,  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Sorel  was  triumphing  over  an 
imaginary  victory,  and  writing  a  despatch 
full  of  sanguine  anticipations  of  Thomp 
son's  success.  "  He  has  proceeded,"  writes 
the  confident  Sullivan,  "in  the  manner 
proposed,  and  made  his  attack  at  day 
light,  for  at  that  time  a  very  heavy  can 
nonading  began,  which  continued  with 
some  intervals  to  twelve  o'clock.  It  is 


278 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


now  near  one  p.  M.,  the  firing  has  ceased, 
except  some  irregular  firing  with  cannon, 
at  a  considerable  distance  of  time  one 
from  the  other.  At  eight  o'clock  a  very 
heavy  firing  of  small  arms  was  heard  even 
here,  at  the  distance  of  forty-five  miles. 
I  am  almost  certain  that  victory  has  de 
clared  in  our  favor,  as  the  irregular  firing 
of  the  cannon  for  such  a  length  of  time 
after  the  small  arms  ceased,  shows  that 
our  men  are  in  possession  of  the  ground." 

Sullivan's  bright  anticipations  were 
destined  to  be  soon  dispersed,  by  the  ar 
rival  of  the  shattered  remains  of  his  force, 
with  a  sad  account  of  their  misfortunes, 
which  supplied  the  general  with  a  less 
jubilant  subject  for  his  next  despatch. 
He  triumphed  no  longer  in  imaginary 
victories.  He  had  the  sad  fact  to  com 
municate  of  the  total  defeat  and  discour 
agement  of  his  officers  and  men.  He 
spoke,  however,  of  his  own  manful  spirit, 
and  declared  his  determination  to  hold 
his  ground  as  long  as  any  person  would 
"stick  by"  him.  He  seemed,  in  fact,  re 
solved  to  keep  the  post  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Sorel,  and  went  on  strengthening  its 
fortifications.  This,  however,  was  but  the 
desperation  of  an  unfortunate  general, 
struggling  against  inevitable  fate.  It  was 
clear  to  all  that  there  was  no  alternative 
but  retreat,  and  retreat  was  determined 
upon.  The  Americans  had  less  than  three 
thousand  men,  discouraged  by  defeat,  sur 
rounded  by  a  hostile  people,  and  threat 
ened  by  an  overwhelming  British  force. 
Flight  afforded  the  only  hope  of  escape 
from  total  destruction. 

Carleton,  strengthened  by  several  regi 
ments  from  England  under  Burgoyne, 


and  by  a  body  of  mercenary  troops  from 
Brunswick  under  Baron  Reidesel,  hao 
now  at  his  command  nearly  thirteen 
thousand  men.  When  Wooster  was 
driven  from  before  Quebec,  Carleton 
moved  on  a  large  force  by  land  under 
General  Fraser,  and  another  by  water 
under  General  Nesbitt,  to  Three  Rivers. 
These  two  had  just  made  a  junction 
when  the  Americans  began  their  attack, 
unconscious  of  the  overwhelming  num 
bers  prepared  to  receive  it.  The  result 
was  necessarily  fatal.  Carleton  now  de 
termined  to  pursue  the  advantage  the 
large  numbers  of  his  troops  gave  him ; 
and  accordingly,  moving  on  his  reinforce 
ments  as  they  arrived  at  Quebec,  he  sent 
Burgoyne  with  a  strong  advance-column 
to  drive  the  Americans  out  of  Canada. 

Sullivan,  now  persuaded  of  the  neces 
sity  of  retreat,  abandoned  his 
post,  but  not  until  the  enemy 
were  at  his  heels ;  for  the  fleet  of  trans 
ports  arrived,  and  Burgoyne  took  pos 
session  of  the  works  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Sorel,  only  a  few  hours  after  the  rear  of 
the  Americans  had  left.  Sir  Guy  Carle- 
ton  had  over-can tiously  ordered  Bur 
goyne  not  to  pursue  his  enemy  farther 
up  the  river  than  St.  Johns.  This  saved 
the  Americans,  who  had  got  but  little 
start  of  their  pursuers.  Sullivan  having 
embarked  his  men,  sailed  off  with  them 
up  the  river  in  advance,  leaving  Major 
Fuller  to  follow  with  the  baggage.  The 
wind  proved  favorable  and  good  progress 
was  made  for  several  hours,  when  the 
breeze  lulled,  and  the  vessels  were  be 
calmed.  In  the  meantime  the  British 
were  gaining  upon  them,  and  had  ad- 


June  14. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


RETREAT  OF  SULLIVAN. 


279 


vanced  so  near  to  Fuller  that  he  sent  to 
Sullivan  in  advance,  asking  for  orders 
what  to  do,  in  the  probable  emergency  of 
being  overtaken.  The  general  promptly 
sent  a  hundred  batteaux  to  bring  off  the 
men  and  baggage,  and  orders  to  burn  the 
large  vessels.  The  major  had  hardly  time 
to  accomplish  this  duty,  before  the  enemy 
could  reach  him.  He  succeeded,  how 
ever. 

Arnold  was  determined  to  hold  Mont 
real  until  the  last  moment ;  but  hearing 
of  the  disaster  at  Three  Rivers,  and  aware 
of  the  approach  of  the  large  force  of  the 
enemy,  he  found  that  nothing  was  left 
him  but  to  retreat,  and  form  a  junction 
with  Sullivan.  He  accordingly  crossed 
from  Montreal  to  Longueil  on  the  main 
land,  and  pushed  forward  to  St.  Johns, 
"  making  a  very  prudent  and  judicious 
retreat,  with  an  enemy  close  at  his  heels," 
for  Carleton,with  a  large  detachment,  was 
striving  to  intercept  him.  While  Arnold 
was  marching  to  St.  Johns,  the  fleet  with 
Burgoyne's  troops  were  sailing  up  the 
river  to  the  same  place,  and  would  have 
arrived  at  the  same  moment,  probably, 
had  not  the  wind  failed.  Joining  Sulli 
van  at  St.  Johns,  preparations  were  made 
at  once  for  embarking  the  troops.  "  To 
this  work,"  says  Sparks,  "Arnold  applied 
himself  with  his  usual  ability  and  vigil 
ance,  remaining  behind  till  he  had  seen 
every  boat  leave  the  shore  but  his  own. 
He  then  mounted  his  horse,  attended  by 
Wilkinson,  his  aid-de-camp,  and  rode  back 
two  miles,  when  he  discovered  the  ene 
my's  advanced  division  in  full  march  un 


der  General  Burgoyne.  They  gazed  at 
it,  or,  in  military  phrase,  reconnoitred  it, 
for  a  short  time,  and  then  hastened  back 
to  St.  Johns.  A  boat  being  in  readiness 
to  receive  them,  the  horses  were  stripped 
and  shot,  the  men  were  ordered  on  board, 
and  Arnold, refusing  all  assistance, pushed 
off  the  boat  with  his  own  hand ;  thus, 
says  Wilkinson, "  indulging  the  vanity  of 
being  the  last  man  who  embarked  from 
the  shores  of  the  enemy."  The  sun  was 
now  down  and  darkness  followed,  but  the 
boat  overtook  the  army  in  the  night  at 
"  Isle  aux  Noix." 

The  retreat  was  full  of  hardship  and 
danger,  but  yet  it  was  considered  credit 
able  to  Sullivan.  Though  worked  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  endurance  by  the  sever 
ity  of  their  labors,  in  the  course  of  which 
they  had  to  drag  their  batteaux,  heavily 
laden  with  cannon  and  baggage,  up  the 
rapids,  and  though  threatened  constantly 
by  the  approach  of  an  overwhelming  force 
in  their  rear,  they  succeeded  in  bringing 
off  all  their  boats  and  baggage,  destroying 
everything  that  might  be  of  aid  to  the 
enemy,  and  escaping  with  the  loss  only 
of  a  single  man.  After  a  short  delay  at 
the  Isle  aux  Noix,  Sullivan  continued  his 
course  along  Lake  Champlain,  until  he 
reached  Crown  Point.  Thus  closed  the 
campaign  of  the  northern  army,  which 
left  Canada,  as  John  Adams  expressed  it, 
"  disgraced,  defeated,  discontented,  dis 
pirited,  diseased,  and  undisciplined  ;  eat 
en  up  with  vermin,  no  clothes,  beds,  blan 
kets,  or  medicines,  and  no  victuals  but 
salt  pork  and  flour." 


280 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

General  Ward  at  Boston. — A  Naval  Success. — "  One  Mugford." — Capture  of  the  Hope. — Mngford  gives  the  Enemy  a 
Broadside  of  Oaths  and  forces  him  to  strike. — Exultation  on  a  Boston  Fast-Day. — Mugford  has  another  Struggle  with 
the  Enemy. — Falls. — Victory. — General  Lincoln's  Plan  for  driving  the  British  Cruisers  away. — Its  Success. — Arrival 
of  English  Vessels  in  the  Harbor  of  Boston. — Obstinate  Resistance. — Capture. — Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell  taken 
Prisoner. — Generals  Ward  and  Frye  Resign. — Gates  promoted  to  a  Major-Generalship. — His  Life,  Character,  and  Per 
sonal  Appearance. — His  Letter  to  Lee. — The  "  Traveller's  Rest." — Gates  appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  Northern 
Army. — Counter-claims  of  Schuyler. — The  Question  between  them  settled  in  Favor  of  Schuyler. — Gates  and  Schuyler 
in  Harmony. — Resolution  to  abandon  Crown  Point. — Opposed  by  the  Subordinate  Officers. — Extraordinary  Proceedings. 
— Washington  rebukes  the  Conduct  of  the  Officers  but  favors  their  Views. — The  Enemy  greatly  reinforced. — Washing 
ton  called  to  Philadelphia  by  Congress. — General  Putnam  in  Command  at  New  York. — Fortifications  in  New  York. — 
General  Greene  on  Long  Island. — Tryon's  Plan  for  seizing  Washington. — A  Traitor  discovered  among  Washington's 
Guard. — The  Traitor  hung. — Concourse  of  Spectators. 


177G, 


April  1. 


WHEN  Washington  set  out  for 
New  York,  he  left  five  regiments 
under  General  Ward  to  complete  the 
works  at  Boston,  and  provide,  by  new 
fortifications,  against  the  return 
of  Howe,  which  seemed  greatly 
to  have  been  feared  by  the  New-Eng- 
landers.  A  few  British  vessels-of-war  still 
lingered  in  Nantasket  roads,  much  to  the 
annoyance  of  the  Bostonians,  who  were 
bent  upon  driving  them  away  at  the  ear 
liest  moment.  Nothing,  however,  was 
done  for  two  months.  In  the  meantime, 
there  was  a  naval  success  in  the  very 
sight  of  the  English  ships  which  served 
to  encourage  the  patriots  of  Boston  to 
further  effort. 

One  Mugford,  as  Gordon  calls  him,  who 
was  a  trading  skipper,  applied  for  the 
command  of  the  Franklin,  a  continental 
cruiser  then  unemployed.  His  request 
being  granted,  Mugford  made  all  haste, 
got  possession  of  the  vessel,  put  on  board 
a  supply  of  powder  and  ball,  shipped  a 
crew  of  twenty  men,  and  hauled  off  into 


the  bay.  Ward,  in  the  meantime,  had 
been  beset  bv  some  of  his  religious  New 

*/  O 

England  friends,  who  gave  him  such  a 
bad  account  of  the  morals  of  Mugford. 
that  he  sent  off  an  express  to  withdraw 
his  orders.  It  was,  however,  too  late,  the 
enterprising  skipper  had  sailed,  and  al 
ready,  before  he  had  got  well  out  of  the 
harbor,  pounced  upon  a  prize.  This  was 
the  ship  Hope,  last  from  Cork,  a  vessel 
of  two  hundred  and  seventy  tons,  four 
guns  and  seventeen  men,  and  laden  with 
fifteen  hundred  barrels  of  gunpowder, 
and  a  large  supply  of  arms,  implements, 
and  other  necessaries,  intended  for  Howe's 
army  supposed  to  be  still  at  Boston.  As 
soon  as  Mugford  got  a  sight  of  her,  he 
ran  his  little  schooner  alongside  and  or 
dered  her  to  strike,  which  she  did  at  once 
without  resistance,  although  her  captain, 
seeing  that  the  British  men-of-war  were 
so  near  that  they  would  be  able  to  come 
shortly  to  his  aid,  ordered  his  men  to  cut 
the  top-sail,  halliards,  and  ties.  Mugford 
heard  the  order,  and  knew  that  if  it  was 


REVOLUTIONARY.") 


ONE  MUGFORD.' 


281 


executed  he  would  certainly  lose  his  prize, 
for  it  would  give  time  to  the  British  men- 
of-war  to  send  their  boats  to  the  relief  of 
the  Hope,  before  she  could  be  managea 
ble.  Mugford's  impiety,  which  had  near 
ly  lost  him  his  command,  now  appeared 
to  serve  him  a  good  purpose,  for  he 
opened,  says  Gordon,  upon  the  Hope's 
captain  with  vollies  of  oaths  and  execra 
tions;  and  in  the  most  horrid  manner 
threatened  him  and  every  one  on  board 
with  immediate  death,  if  the  order  was 
executed,  upon  which  the  captain  was  so 
terrified  as  to  desist. 

It  was  fast-day  in  Boston,  and  its  good 
people  were  just  returning  from  church, 
but,  notwithstanding  the  seriousness  be 
coming  such  a  religious  occasion,  they 
could  not  contain  their  manifestations  of 
delight  as  Mugford  came  into  the  harbor 
with  his  prize.  Our  skipper,  encouraged 
by  the  success  of  his  first  attempt,  soon 
started  out  for  another  cruise  with  the 

Franklin  and  the  Lady  Wash- 
May  19,    . 

ington,  but  in  going  down  the 

bay  the  former  got  aground,  and  the 
two  dropped  their  anchors.  While  thus 
anchored,  they  wrere  observed  by  the 
British  admiral  who  sent  off  at  midnight 
thirteen  boats  to  attack  them.  The  men 
on  both  sides  struggled  manfully,  and 
Mugford  succeeded  in  sinking  two  of  the 
boats.  While  foremost  in  the  fight,  howr- 
ever,  he  was  mortally  wounded,  but  con 
tinued  to  cheer  on  his  men,  shouting 
out  with  his  last  breath,  as  he  fell,  "  Do 
not  give  up  the  ship — you  will  beat 
them  off."  And  the  men,  without  the 
loss  of  a  single  life  but  that  of  their  gal 
lant  commander,  did  beat  the  enemy  off! 
36 


The  Bostonians,  exceed inglv  anxious 

o   »/ 

as  they  were  to  get  rid  of  the  British 
war-vessels,  which,  numbering  some  ten 
sail  in  all,  presented  a  threatening  aspect, 
readily  concurred  in  General  Lincoln's 
plans  for  driving  them  away.  Every 
thing  being  in  readiness,  the  cit- 

JllI16  13 

izens  of  Boston  were  made  aware 
by  beat  of  drum  that  the  expedition  was 
to  set  out.  One  detachment  of  soldiers, 
amounting  to  nearly  six  hundred  men, 
was  accordingly  embarked  and  sent  to 
Fetlock's  island  and  hill,  another  detach 
ment  took  post  on  Morn  island,  Hoik's 
neck,  and  Point  Olderton,  while  a  third 
with  artillery  sailed  for  Long  island. 
The  troops  did  not  arrive  at  their  several 
places  of  destination  until  near  morning, 
but  were  active  and  alert  for  action.  The 
cannon  were  soon  planted,  and  a  single 
shot  fired  as  an  announcement  to  the 
enemy  of  their  intention.  The  commo 
dore  immediately  hoisted  a  signal  for  the 
fleet  to  get  under  way,  but  in  the  mean 
time  returned  the  Americans'  fire,  and 
did  not  succeed  in  getting  under  sail  un 
til  a  shot  from  Long  island  had  damaged, 
somewhat,  his  upper  rigging.  Thus,  on 
the  very  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which, 
two  years  before,  the  British  government 
had  prohibited  the  sailing  of  any  vessel 
from  Boston,  wTas  its  harbor  made  free. 

No  sooner  had  the  British  admiral  gone 
than  several  English  vessels  arrived  off 
the  harbor  of  Boston,  and  as  they  sup 
posed  Howe  still  in  possession,  they  came 
in  without  suspicion,  and  were  thus  cap 
tured.  Among  these  were  the  George 
and  Anabella,  transports,  which  arrived 
after  a  passage  of  seven  weeks  from  Scot- 


282 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


land,  in  the  course  of  which  they  had 
no  opportunity  of  speaking  a  single  ves 
sel  which  could  inform  them  of  the  evac 
uation  of  Boston.  When  off  the  coast, 
they  were  attacked  by  four  privateers, 
with  whom  they  fought  until  evening, 
when  the  latter  bore  away  and  the  trans 
ports  sought  protection,  as  they  supposed, 
by  sailing  for  the  harbor  of  Boston.  They 
stood  in  and  were  passing  up  Nantasket 
roads,  when  an  American  battery  opened 
upon  them,  and  gave  them  the  first  proof 
that  they  had  got  among  enemies  instead 
of  friends,  as  they  had  anticipated.  The 
wind  had  died  away,  and  the  tide  being 
still  on  the  flood,  there  was  no  chance 
for  them  to  get  out  again.  The  priva 
teers,  which  had  had  a  brush  with  them 
outside,  now  came  up  and  prepared  to 
renew  the  fight,  the  transports  being 
hailed  to  strike  the  British  flag.  The 
sailors  were  ready  to  yield  at  once,  but 
the  lieutenant-colonel  in  command  of  the 
troops  on  board  persisted  in  resistance, 
and  was  readily  obeyed  by  his  soldiers. 
The  fight  now  began,  and  was  continued 
for  an  hour  and  a  half,  when  all  their 
ammunition  being  expended,  the  British 
vessels  surrendered,  after  losing  one  offi 
cer,  and  some  twenty-five  others  killed 
or  wounded.  The  troops  which  were 
captured  amounted  to  over  three  hundred 
men,  and  with  them  was  taken  also  as  a 
prisoner  Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell,  a 
man  of  rank  and  an  officer  of  distinction. 
Major-General  Ward  and  Brigadier- 
General  Frye  had  sent  in  their  resigna 
tions,  which  were  accepted  by  Congress 
on  the  twenty-third  of  April,  but  they 
continued  to  serve  until  the  operations 


[PART   II. 

at  Boston  we  have  just  narrated  were 
brought  to  a  close,  when  they  were  re 
lieved  by  new  appointments.  Through 
the  New  England  influence,  which  watch 
ed  with  great  jealousy  the  advancement 
of  the  military  leaders  who  belonged  to 
the  middle  and  southern  provinces,  Con 
gress  now  made  another  promotion  which 
caused  no  little  trouble  in  New  York. 
Gates,  having  been  sent  by  Washington 
to  Philadelphia  to  confer  with  Congress 
in  regard  to  the  disastrous  state  of  affairs 
in  Canada,  succeeded  in  obtaining  pro 
motion  to  a  major-generalship  and  the 

command  of  the  northern  army 

,  ,,    .  a         '  June  18, 

principally  through  the  influence 

of  the  New-Englanders,  with  whom  he 
had  greatly  ingratiated  himself,  during 
his  service  before  Boston. 

Horatio  Gates  was  born  in  England. 
"He  was,"  says  Horace  Walpole,  "the 
son  of  a  housekeeper  of  the  second  duke 
of  Leeds,  who  marrying  a  young  husband 
had  this  son  by  him.  That  duke  of  Leeds 
had  been  saved  of  a  Jacobite  plot  by  my 
father,  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  and  the  duke 
was  very  grateful  and  took  notice  of  me 
when  quite  a  boy.  My  mother's  woman 
was  intimate  with  that  housekeeper,  and 
thence  I  was  God-father  to  her  son,  though 
I  believe  not  then  ten  years  old  myself. 
This  God-son,  Horatio  Gates,  was  pro 
tected  by  General  Cornwallis  when  gov 
ernor  of  Halifax,  but  being  afterward 
disappointed  of  preferment  in  the  army, 
he  joined  the  Americans."  He  first  came 
to  America  as  an  officer  in  an  expedition 
against  the  French  in  Nova  Scotia.  On 
his  return  to  London,  he  was  consulted 
by  the  British  ministry  in  regard  to  the 


.REVOLUTIONARY.] 


HORATIO  GATES. 


283 


proposed  campaign  under  Braddock,  but 
modestly  pleading  his  youth,  declined  to 
give  any  advice.  He,  however,  served 
in  that  famous  expedition  which  resulted 
so  fatally,  and  showed  himself  a  brave 
and  efficient  officer.  It  was  then  that  he 
became  acquainted  with  Washington, 
and  formed  a  warm  friendship  for  him. 
Through  this  alliance  he  became  familiar 
with  colonial  life  in  Virginia,  and  so 
strongly  attached  to  the  country,  that 
he  determined  to  settle  there.  This  res 
olution  was  strengthened  by  his  mar 
riage  to  an  American  woman.  Accord 
ingly,  selling  out  his  commission  in  the 
British  army,  he  bought  a  plantation  in 
Virginia.  Here  he  retired  within  his 
"Traveller's  Rest,"  as  he  fondly  called 
his  estate,  apparently  resolving  no  longer 
to  mingle  in  the  busy  world  without. 

To  General  Charles  Lee,  who  was  an 
old  comrade,  and  whom  he  desired  to 
become  his  neighbor  and  participator 
with  him  in  the  delights  of  his  rural  re 
treat,  he  wrrites :  — 

"  I  know  not  how  you  find  it ;  but  the 
older  I  grow,  I  become  less  and  less  in 
clined  to  new  acquaintance.  Selfishness 
and  sycophancy  possess  so  generally  the 
minds  of  men,  that  I  think  the  many  are 
best  avoided,  and  the  few  only,  who  are 
liberal  and  sincere,  to  be  sought  for  and 
caressed.  I  therefore  stick  steadily  to 
the  cultivation  of  my  farm,  am  intimate 
with  few,  read  when  I  have  time,  and 
content  myself  with  such  domestic  com 
forts  as  my  circumstances  and  fortune 
afford  me.  I  wish,  therefore,  most  anx 
iously,  you  would  come  to  my  retreat, 
and  there  let  us  philosophize  on  the 


vices  and  virtues  of  this  busy  world,  the 
follies  and  the  vanities  of  the  great  vul 
gar  and  the  small. 

"  '  Laugh  when  we  please,  be  candid  when  we  can, 
And  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man.' 

"  Mrs.  Gates  is  earnest  in  desiring  to 
see  you  under  her  roof,  where  a  good  bed 
is  provided  for  you,  two  or  three  slaves  to 
supply  all  your  wants,  and  space  enough 
about  us  for  you  to  exercise  away  all 
your  spleen  and  gloomy  moods,  when 
soever  they  distress  you.  In  my  neigh 
borhood  there  is  this  moment  as  fine  a 
farm-mill  and  tract  of  land  to  be  sold  as 
any  in  America,  and  provided  it  is  con 
venient  to  you  to  pay  down  half  the 
price,  I  am  convinced  you  may  have  it 
a  very  great  bargain.  It  is  altogether 
two  thousand  four  hundred  acres,  at 
thirty  shillings  sterling  an  acre.  I  am 
satisfied  you  might  have  it  so.  By  pay 
ing  dowrn  about  one  thousand  eight  hun 
dred  pounds  sterling,  you  may  be  put  in 
possession  of  an  estate  that  ten  years 
hence  will  be  worth  seven  thousand 
pounds  sterling  ;  and  I  take  it  for  grant 
ed  that  you  may  have  the  payment  of 
the  rest  of  the  purchase-money  at  easy 
installments,  and  that,  too,  without  in 
terest  ;  so,  by  laying  out  a  thousand 
pounds  sterling  more  in  stocking  and 
improvements,  your  produce  will  yield 
you  a  fine  living,  and  wherewithal  to  pay 
your  annual  installment  bargained  for  in 
the  purchase." 

Lee  was  tempted  by  the  supposed  at 
tractions  of  rural  life,  and,  in  common 
with  Gates  and  Washington,  retired  to 
cultivate  his  own  acres,  but  was  soon 


284 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11 


called  to  exchange  the  ploughshare  for 
the  sword ;  and  not  reluctantly,  we  would 
believe,  apart  from  his  devotion  to  a 
cause  which  would  have  prompted  him 
to  make  every  sacrifice  of  personal  ease 
and  comfort.  All  three  were  soldiers  by 
nature,  and  would  not  have  been  long 
content  with  harvests  of  corn  and  tobacco, 
while  there  were  laurels  to  reap  on  the 
field  of  battle.  When  the  troubles  with 
the  mother-country  began  to  agitate  the 
provinces,  Lee,  Gates,  and  Washington 
were  often  together,  and  warming  with 
indignation,  as  they  talked  over  the  op 
pressive  acts  of  English  tyranny,  began 
already  to  think  of  taking  down  their 
hanging  swords,  and  girding  them  on 
for  the  coming  campaign.  "  I  am  ready 
to  resign  my  life  to  preserve  the  liberty 
of  the  western  world,"  says  Gates  at  the 
close  of  the  very  letter  just  quoted,  in 
which  he  philosophizes  on  the  charms  of 
the  retirement  of  his  "  Traveller's  Rest." 

Together  with  Lee,  he  accompanied 
Washington  to  Cambridge,  to  whose  in 
fluence  he  was  chiefly  indebted  for  his 
appointment  as  adjutant-general.  Wash 
ington  was  so  conscious  of  the  military 
deficiencies  of  the  militia  leaders,  that  he 
was  greatly  anxious  to  secure  the  soldier 
ly  attainments  of  his  friends  Lee  and 
Gates,  whom  he  knew  to  be  accomplished 
officers.  In  the  beginning  of  the  struggle 
they  were  almost  indispensable.  Time 
revealed,  and  experience  perfected  the 
military  talents  of  some  American  of 
ficers  upon  whose  skill  Washington  could 
equally  trust,  and  in  whose  disinterested 
patriotism  he  had  more  faith. 

Gates  was  now  at  the  height  of  popu 


larity.  He  was  personally  always  a  favor 
ite  from  his  courteous  manners  and  kindli 
ness  of  heart;  but  he  was  misled  by  vanity 
to  an  undue  appreciation  of  his  capacity. 
He  was  not  a  man  of  brilliant  qualities ; 
and  though  his  ambition  prompted  him 
to  aspire  to  the  loftiest  military  position, 
he  was  not  possessed  of  the  genius  of  a 
great  commander. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Revolutionary 
war,  Gates  was  between  fifty  and  sixty 
years  old ;  with  his  scant  gray  hair  and 
<:  spectacles  on  nose,"  he  looked  fully  his 
age.  He  had  a  brisk,  good-natured  manner, 
and  was  of  a  cheerful  and  social  humor. 

Being  appointed  to  the  command  in 
Canada,  Gates  proceeded  to  the  North, 
but  found  on  his  arrival  in  Albany  that 
there  was  no  longer,  in  consequence  of 
the  retreat  to  Crown  Point  we  have  al 
ready  described,  any  force  in  Canada  to 
command.  Gates  would  seem,  therefore, 
to  have  been  very  much  in  the  position 
of  Sancho  Panza,  in  his  imaginary  Bara- 
traria,  a  governor  without  a  government. 
He,  howrever,  was  not  disposed  to  rest  con 
tented  writh  this  impersonal  condition, 
and  laid  claim  to  the  command  of  the 
northern  army  wherever  it  might  be.  In 
this  he  seems  to  have  been  instigated 
not  only  by  his  own  ambitious  longings, 
but  by  the  officious  provocatives  of  his 
zealous  New  England  friends.  "  I  find," 
writes  Joseph  Trumbull  to  Gates,  "  you 
are  in  a  cursed  situation,  your  authority 
at  an  end,  and  commanded  by  a  person 
who  will  be  willing  to  have  you  knocked 
in  the  head,  as  General  Montgomery  was, 
if  he  can  have  the  money-chest  in  his 
power." 


RE  VOL  UTIONARY.] 


DISCORD  AND  DISORDER. 


285 


Schuyler  resisted  Gates's  claims ;  and 
as  they  could  not  agree  upon  the  matter 
between  themselves,  they  referred  it  to 
Congress,  while  in  the  meantime  they 
resolved  to  act  as  harmoniously  as  pos 
sible  with  each  other,  until  an  authorita 
tive  decision  should  be  received.  Gen 
eral  Sullivan,  too,  thought  himself  entitled 
to  grumble  at  the  appointment  of  Gates, 
who  certainly  superseded  him  in  rank, 
however  Schuyler's  position  might  be 
affected.  Sullivan  accordingly  obtained 
leave  of  absence  from  Washington,  and 
made  his  way  to  Philadelphia,  where  he 
laid  his  grievances  and  his  resignation 
before  Congress,  but  being  soothed  by 
compliments  upon  the  judiciousness  of 
his  late  retreat  from  Canada,  was  induced 
to  recall  his  resignation  and  return  to  his 
duty. 

The  question  between  Gates  and  Schuy 
ler  was  soon  settled  by  the  decision  of 
Congress  in  favor  of  the  pretensions  of 
the  latter.  Washington  had  been  much 
harassed  by  these  bickerings  among  his 
officers,  whose  example  had  been  very 
extensively  followed  even  by  the  soldiers, 
who  were  in  a  constant  state  of  irritabil 
ity  from  sectional  feeling.  He  incloses  a 
copy  of  the  Congressional  decision  to 
Schuyler,  and  takes  occasion  to  say,  in 
regard  to  his  dispute  with  Gates :  "I  hope 
that  harmony  and  a  good  agreement  will 
subsist  between  you,  as  the  most  likely 
means  of  advancing  the  interests  of  the 
cause  which  you  both  wish  to  promote." 
A  few  days  subsequently,  in  another  let 
ter,  he  writes :  "  I  am  extremely  sorry  to 
have  such  unfavorable  accounts  of  the 
condition  of  the  army.  Sickness  of  itself 


July  6 


is  sufficiently  bad  ;  but  when  discord  and 
disorder  are  added,  greater  misfortunes 
can  not  befall  it,  except  that  of  a  defeat. 
I  must  entreat  your  attention  to  these 
matters,  and  your  exertions  to  introduce 
more  discipline,  and  to  do  away  the  un 
happy  and  pernicious  distinctions  and 
jealousies  between  the  troops  of  different 
governments." 

Sufficient  harmony  seems  finally  to 
have  been  established  between  Schuyler 
and  Gates  for  co-operation,  after  receiv 
ing  the  decision  of  Congress ;  and  the 
two  proceeded  together  to  the  American 
army  at  Crown  Point,  accom 
panied  by  Arnold,  who  had  gone 
to  Albany  to  report  the  state  of  the 
troops  after  the  retreat,  and  the  threat 
ening  progress  of  the  enemy.  Upon 
reaching  Crown  Point,  a  council  of  war 
was  held,  and  it  was  resolved  unanim 
ously  that  that  post  should  be  abandoned 
and  the  army  removed  to  Ticonderoga. 
This  was  opposed  by  many  of  the  subor 
dinate  officers,  who  resorted  to  the  un- 
military  proceeding  of  preparing  and 
signing  a  remonstrance  against  the  deci 
sion  of  their  superiors.  Washington  him 
self,  on  receiving  this  extraordinary  paper, 
although  he  condemned  the  signers  of  it, 
seems  to  have  been  impressed  with  the 
views  they  held  in  regard  to  the  abandon 
ment  of  Crown  Point.  "I  doubt  not," 
he  writes,  "  that  the  measure  was  duly 
weighed  by  the  general  officers  in  coun 
cil,  and  seemed  to  them  best  calculated  to 
secure  the  colonies,  and  prevent  the  ene 
my  from  penetrating  into  them.  How 
ever,  I  can  not  but  observe  —  though  I  do 
not  mean  to  encourage  in  the  smallest 


286 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART   n. 


degree,  or  to  give  the  least  .sanction  to 
inferior  officers  to  set  up  their  opinions 
against  the  proceedings  and  councils  of 
their  superiors,  knowing  the  dangerous 
tendency  of  such  a  practice — that  the 
reasons  assigned  by  the  officers  in  their 
remonstrance  appear  to  me  forcible  and 
of  great  weight."  The  subject  was  sub 
sequently  greatly  discussed,  and  finally 
the  opinion  of  all  military  men  concurred 
in  justifying  the  expediency  of  the  re 
moval  of  the  army  to  Ticonderoga. 

Washington,  troubled  by  the  unfor 
tunate  result  in  Canada,  could  get  but 
little  consolation  from  the  state  of  things 
in  New  York.  Howe  was  hourly  ex 
pected,  with  his  army  greatly  increased 
by  large  reinforcements  of  British  regu 
lars,  and  mercenary  troops  composed  of 
Hessians,  Brunswickers,  and  other  Ger 
mans;  and  Washington  knew  that  his 
own  force  was  neither  in  such  numbers 
nor  condition  as  to  resist  successfully  a 
vigorous  attack.  Called  to  Philadelphia 
by  Congress,  to  aid  them  with  his  coun 
sels  in  this  emergency,  he  succeeded  in 
prevailing  upon  them  to  vote  a  reinforce 
ment  to  the  army  of  thirteen  thousand 
eight  hundred  militia,  the  formation  of  a 
flying  camp  to  consist  of  ten  thousand 
men,  and  the  construction  of  as  many 
fire  rafts,  gondolas  and  floating  batteries 
as  might  be  deemed  necessary  by  Wash 
ington  for  the  defence  of  the  bay  and 
rivers  surrounding  New  York.  During 
his  absence,  General  Putnam  succeeded 
to  the  temporary  command,  and  contin 
ued  to  push  vigorously  the  various  works 
at  New  York,  while  Greene  was  no  less 
active  on  Long  Island. 


Washington,  on  his  return,  as  he 
thought  that  the  enemy  would  probably 
soon  after  their  arrival,  attempt  to  force 
their  way  up  the  North  river,  determined 
to  erect  new,  and  strengthen  the  old  for 
tifications  on  its. banks,  with  the  view  of 
preventing  the  passage  of  the  British  ves 
sels.  He  accordingly  ordered  Colonel 
James  Clinton,  a  New  York  officer,  to 
take  the  command,  and  complete  the  con 
struction  of  Fort  Montgomery,  near  the 
Highlands,  and  Fort  Constitution  on  an 
island  opposite  to  West  Point.  Other 
works  were  also  begun  under  the  super 
vision  of  the  chief  engineer,  Colonel  Eu- 
fus  Putnam,  at  King's  Bridge  and  on 
the  neighboring  heights.  There  were  a 
breastwork  to  defend  the  bridge,  a  redoubt 
on  a  hill  overlooking  the  Hudson  river, 
where,  by  means  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil 
creek,  it  joins  the  Harlem  river,  and  forms 
the  northern  water-boundary  of  the  island 
of  New  York,  and  a  strong  fortification 
called  Fort  Washington,  also  on  the  Hud 
son,  but  several  miles  nearer  New  York. 
This  last  work  was  directly  opposite  to 
Fort  Lee,  wThich  was  on  the  west  side,  and 
it  was  supposed  that  the  two  together 
could  command  the  passage. 

Washington,  while  thus  providing  de 
fences  against  the  open  enemies  of  the 
country,  was  beset  by  the  machinations 
of  some  secret  plotters  against  him  and 
his  army.  By  the  disclosure  of  one  of 
Washington's  own  guard,  who  had  been 
tampered  with,  a  conspiracy  was  discov 
ered,  which  was  supposed  to  have  for  its 
object  the  capture  of  Washington,  a  gen 
eral  massacre  of  his  principal  officers,  the 
spiking  of  the  guns,  the  blowing  up  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


TRYON'S  PLOT. 


287 


the  forts  and  magazines,  and  the  securing 
of  the  passes  of  the  city,  in  order  that 
New  York  and  the  patriot  army  might 
be  at  the  mercy  of  Howe  on  the  day  of 
his  arrival. 

An  investigation  having  taken  place, 
the  plot  was  traced  through  the  dirty 
sources  of  various  pot-houses,  tavern- 
keepers,  gunsmiths,  negro  servants, drum 
mers,  fifers,  and  the  mayor,  Matthews,  to 
the  arch-conspirator  Tryon  himself.  This 
tory  governor,  it  seems,  had,  from  his  safe 
refuge  on  board  a  man-of-war  off  Sandy 
Hook,  where  the  British  ships  were  at 
anchor,  devised  the  scheme,  and  tempted 
the  worthless  to  co-operate  with  him  by 
the  offer  of  five  pounds  and  two  hundred 
acres  of  land  to  each  man  who  should 
enter  the  king's  service,  one  hundred 
acres  to  his  wife,  and  fifty  to  each  child, 
with  the  understanding  that  he  should 


remain  in  New  York  and  lend  his  aid  se 
cretly  to  the  royal  cause.  The  mayor, 
in  conjunction  with  many  of  his  fellow 
tory  citizens,  readily  concurred  in  and 
gave  their  aid  to  Tryon's  plot.  A  large 
number  of  worthless  fellows,  who  were 
in  the  habit  of  resorting  to  the  low  pot 
houses  of  the  town,  were  easily  won  over 
by  the  governor's  bribe,  and  among  these 
were  some  of  the  most  dissolute  of  the  sol 
diers.  Washington's  own  guard 
even  supplied  two  of  the  villains. 
One  of  the  name  of  Thomas  Hickey,  an 
Irish  deserter  from  the  British  army,  a 
stout,  dark-faced  fellow,  was  tried  by 
court-martial,  and,  being  found  guilty  of 
mutiny  and  treason,  was  led  out  by  a 
strong  military  guard,  and  hung  in  a 
field,  now  forming  a  part  of  the  Bowery, 
before  a  crowd  of  twenty  thousand  spec 
tators. 


June  28. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  on  the  Move. — The  South  his  Object. — The  Provincials  timely  informed. — Arrival  of  British  Fleet  auu 
Troops  off  the  Coast  of  South  Carolina. — Clinton's  Life  and  Character. — Charleston  on  the  Alert. — Preparations  to 
receive  the  Enemy. — General  Lee  on  the  Ground. — Assumes  the  Command. — Lee  suggests  to  swear  the  Militia  in. — 
Governor  Rutledge  opposes. — Lee's  emphatic  Appeal. — The  Provincial  Deficiencies. — Lee's  Anxiety. — The  English 
Fleet  taking  Position. — Lee  lectures  his  Men. — The  Attack  on  Fort  Sullivan  begins. — The  Response  from  the  Ameri 
can  Batteries. — The  unsuccessful  Attempt  of  the  British  to  land. — Lee  encouraged  by  the  Good  Conduct  of  the  Militia. 
— The  British  beaten  off. — The  Havoc. — Sir  Peter's  "  Honor  gone." — Wounded  in  the  Breech. — The  heroic  Sergeant 
Jasper. — MacDonald. — The  Actaen  in  Flames. — Moultrie's  Gallantry. — Fort  Sullivan  receives  the  Name  of  Moultrie. 
— The  beaten  British  sail  for  New  York. 


1776, 


IT  will  be  recollected  that  Sir 


Henry  Clinton,  as  has  been  already 
recorded,  left  Boston  with  a  small  fleet 
in  the  month  of  January.  New  York 
was  at  that  time  supposed  to  be  the  ob 
ject  of  the  expedition,  and  in  fact  Clin 


ton  called  in  there  with  a  single  vessel, 
where  Lee,  having  been  sent  by  Wash 
ington  to  oppose  his  landing,  happened 
to  arrive  on  the  same  day,  and  wrote 
thus  of  the  occurrence :  "  He  [Clinton] 
brought  no  troops  with  him,  and  pledges 


288 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


his  honor  none  are  coming.  He  says  it 
is  merely  a  visit  to  his  friend  Tryon.  If 
it  is  really  so,  it  is  the  most  whimsical 
piece  of  civility  I  ever  heard  of."  What 
ever  might  be  Clinton's  purpose  in  his 
visit  to  New  York,  an  attack  on  that  city 
was  certainly  not  the  object  of  his  expe 
dition. 

Howe  had  received  a  despatch  from 
the  British  government,  in  which  it  was 
stated  that  assurances  had  been  received 
that  the  inhabitants  of  the  southern  colo 
nies  were  so  loyally  disposed  that  they 
were  ready  to  join  the  king's  army  on 
the  least  show  of  force  there.  Clinton 
was  accordingly  to  be  sent  with  a  respect 
able  display  of  British  power,  in  order 
to  encourage  the  manifestations  of  the 
cautious  loyalty  of  the  South.  If,  how 
ever,  these  expectations  of  tory  concur 
rence  should  prove  unfounded,  he  was  to 
gain  possession  "of  some  respectable  post 
to  the  southward,  from  which  the  rebels 
might  be  annoyed  by  sudden  and  unex 
pected  attacks  on  their  towns  upon  the 
sea-coast  during  open  winter,"  and  Clin 
ton  was  positively  ordered  to  destroy 
any  towns  which  would  not  submit  to 
the  king's  authority. 

Clinton  had  sailed  from  Boston  with 
orders  from  Howe,  based  on  this  despatch. 
The  Americans  became  aware  of  the  ob 
ject  of  his  expedition,  by  the  fortunate 
capture  of  a  British  vessel,  on  board  of 
which  was  found  this  letter  addressed  by 
the  British  government  to  Governor  Eden 
of  Maryland:  — 

"WHITEHALL,  December  23,  1775. 

"Sir:  An  armament  of  seven  regi 
ments,  with  a  fleet  of  frigates  and  small 


ships,  is  now  in  readiness  to  proceed  to 
the  southern  colonies,  in  order  to  attempt 
the  restoration  of  legal  government  in 
that  part  of  America.  It  will  proceed 
in  the  first  place  to  North  Carolina,  and 
from  thence  either  to  South  Carolina  or 
Virginia,  as  circumstances  shall  point 
out." 

This  fleet  of  men-of-war  and  transports 
was  under  the  command  of  Admiral  Sir 
Peter  Parker,  and  reached  the  rendezvous 
at  Cape  Fear  in  May,  where  they  joined 
the  small  squadron  which  had  brought 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  his  troops  from 
Boston. 


gmia, 


Nothing  could  be  done  in  Vir- 
as   Lord    Dunmore's    ill    success 


proved ;  and  nothing  in  North  Carolina, 
as  was  equally  clear  from  the  mishap  of 
Governor  Martin,  with  his  Highlanders 
and  Regulators  in  that  colony.  It  was 
therefore  determined  to  try  South  Caro 
lina,  and  begin  by  making  an  attempt  on 
Charleston.  Confident  in  their  large 
naval  armament  under  Parker,  and  their 
numerous  troops  which  amounted  in  all 
to  three  thousand  men  under  Cornwallis 
and  Clinton,  who  now  assumed  the  com 
mand  of  all  the  land  forces,  they  sailed 
down  the  coast,  in  full  anticipation  of  an 
easy  victory.  The  admiral's  well-known 
dash  and  courage  gave  spirit  to  his  men, 
and  the  soldiers  obeyed  with  alacrity  their 
general,  who,  although  still  young,  had 
served  with  honor  in  the  wars  of  Europe. 
Henry  Clinton  was  of  distinguished 
family.  His  grandfather  was  the  earl  of 
Lincoln,  and  his  father  was  appointed, 
through  the  influence  of  his  aristocratic 
connections,  governor  of  New  York  in 
1743.  The  son  entered  the  army  at  an 


REVOLUTIONARY] 


DEFENCES  OF  CHARLESTON. 


early  age,  and  had  served  in  a  European 
campaign,  when  he  was  raised  to  the  rank 
of  major-general,  and  ordered  to  Boston 
with  General  Howe  in  1775.  He  showed 
his  martial  spirit  and  courage  while  there 
by  dashing  across  the  river  to  the  aid  of 
Howe  during  his  struggle  with  the  patri 
ots  on  Bunker's  hill,  although  without  a 
command  on  that  day.  He  had  now  been 
chosen  for  a  service  of  moment,  not  only 
on  account  of  his  prominent  military  rank, 
but  also  for  his  well-known  skill  and  dar 
ing.  Clinton  was  not  popular  with  the 
multitude,  but  his  friendship  was  cher 
ished  by  the  few.  He  looked  the  Eng 
lishman  with  his  "  short  and  fat"  body, 
"  his  full  face  and  prominent  nose  •"  and 
had  that  cold  reserve  of  manner,  with 
casual  acquaintances,  which  is  supposed 
to  characterize  his  countrymen. 

South  Carolina  was  not  unprepared  for 
the  formidable  force  now  sailing  down  its 
coast,  and  threatening  destruction  to  its 
chief  city.  Throughout  the  province  the 
patriots  had  been  diligent,  and  particu 
larly  at  Charleston,  which,  from  its  impor 
tance  as  a  commercial  town,  the  excel 
lence  of  its  harbor,  and  the  command  it 
gave  of  the  interior  country  and  the 
southern  coast,  presented  a  desirable  cap 
ture  to  the  enemy.  To  secure  the  town 
against  such  a  misfortune,  the  patriots 
busied  themselves  in  fortifying  it,  and 
principally  the  islands  which  command 
the  approach  to  the  harbor.  The  chief 
works  were  erected  on  the  southwestern 
extremity  of  Sullivan's  and  on  James's 
islands,  in  order  to  defend  the  passage 
between  the  two,  which  leads  from  the 
sea  to  the  harbor.  On  the  former  was 

37 


built  a  strong  fort  of  palmetto,  wrhich  is 
peculiarly  serviceable  for  the  purpose  of 
defence,  since,  from  its  spongy  texture,  a 
ball  on  striking  it  sinks  into  it,  withou 
splitting  the  wrood  or  shattering  the  struc 
ture.  Colonel  Moultrie  had  constructed 
this  fort,  and,  mounting  it  with  twenty- 
six  heavy  cannon,  now  garrisoned  it  with 
three  hundred  and  seventy-five  South- 
Carolina  regulars  and  some  few  militia 
men.  The  work  on  James's  island,  which 
was  called  Fort  Johnson,  was  in  charge 
of  Colonel  Gadsden,  commanding  a  sin 
gle  regiment.  Cannon,  with  breastworks, 
were  also  placed  on  the  northeastern  end 
of  Sullivan's  island ;  at  Wad  dell's  point, 
on  the  mainland  to  the  north ;  and  along 
the  wrharves  in  front  of  the  town. 

When  the  intelligence  reached  Charles 
ton  that  the  British  fleet  had  an 
chored  off  the  coast  about  eigh 
teen  miles  from  Sullivan's  island,  the 
whole  country  around  was  aroused  into 
activity  by  the  firing  of  the  alarm-guns 
from  the  forts.  The  militia  were  every 
where  called  out,  and  hurried  to  the  de 
fence  of  the  capital.  Some,  on  their  ar 
rival,  were  distributed  among  the  several 
garrisons ;  while  others  joined  the  inhab 
itants,  in  strengthening  the  immediate  de 
fences  of  the  city.  Stores  on  the  wharves 
were  pulled  down  to  make  wray  for  breast 
works  ;  barricades  were  thrown  across, 
and  cannon  planted  in,  the  streets.  Some 
seven  hundred  negroes  were  ordered 
down  from  the  country,  to  assist  in  the 
labor ;  and  so  universal  was  the  interest, 
"  that  hoes  and  spades  were  in  the  hands 
of  every  citizen"  day  and  night,  and  men 
willingly  exchanged  their  beds  and  home 


290 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


comforts  for  the  ground  and  open  air, 
with  nothing  but  "blankets  and  knap 
sacks." 

General  Lee  had  arrived,  to  assume  the 
chief  command  ;  and  "  the  great  opinion 
which  was  everywhere  entertained  of  his 
ability  and  experience,  added  to  the  spir 
its  of  the  troops  and  inhabitants."  With 
his  usual  fondness  for  swearing,  Lee  in 
augurated  his  command  by  a  proposition 
to  bind  the  militia  by  an  oath.  Governor 
Rutledge  had  scruples  about  the  legality 
of  the  measure  ;  but  the  men  themselves 
were  so  ardent  at  that  time,  that  they  all 
came  forward,  with  the  exception  of  two, 
and  volunteered  to  swear  in  accordance 
with  Lee's  desire. 

The  orders  of  the  general  are  charac 
teristic.  Each  word  in  the  following 
snaps  like  a  firelock:  — 

"  As  it  now  appears  almost  a  certainty 
(from  the  intelligence  of  some  deserters) 
that  the  enemy's  intention  is  to  make  an 
attack  on  the  city ;  and  as  the  general  is 
confident  that  the  numbers  and  spirit  of 
the  garrison  will  prevent  their  landing, 
it  only  remains  to  guard  against  the  in 
jury  which  the  city  may  receive  from 
their  cannon. 

"  The  continental  troops,  provincials, 
and  militia,  are  therefore  most  earnestly 
conjured  to  work  with  no  less  alacrity, 
than  fight  with  courage.  Courage  alone 
will  not  suffice  in  war ;  true  soldiers  and 
magnanimous  citizens  must  brandish  the 
pickaxe  and  spade,  as  well  as  the  sword, 
in  defence  of  their  country :  one  or  two 
days'  labor,  at  this  critical  juncture,  may 
not  only  save  many  worthy  families  from 
ruin,  but  many  worthy  individuals  from 


loss  of  limbs  and  life.  On  this  principle 
the  general  does  not,  simply  in  his  capa 
city  of  commanding  officer,  order,  but  en 
treat  the  whole  garrison  (those  on  the 
necessary  duties  excepted)  to  exert  them 
selves  in  forwarding  the  requisite  works 
of  protection. 

"  The  colonels,  or  commanding  officers 
of  the  corps,  are  to  review  their  men's 
arms  this  evening  at  roll-calling ;  to  take 
care  they  are  in  as  good  order  as  pos 
sible,  and  that  they  are  furnished  with 
good  flints.  The  officers  commanding 
the  different  guards  are  to  do  the  same 
with  their  respective  guards. 

"  For  the  future  it  must  be  observed, 
as  an  established  rule,  that  no  artillery- 
officer  fires  a  single  cannon  without  pre 
viously  acquainting  the  general." 

All  seemed  to  be  actuated  by  a  very 
determined  spirit  of  resistance  at  Charles 
ton,  and  the  preparations  to  meet  the 
enemy  were  made  with  great  energy, 
and  with  as  much  skill  as  could  be  com 
manded.  The  resources  of  the  patriots, 
however,  were  in  some  respects  very  de 
ficient.  Powder  was  so  scarce,  that  each 
soldier  in  the  forts  was  allowed  only  a 
limited  number  of  rounds ;  and  lead  so 
scanty,  that  it  became  necessary  to  strip 
the  windows  of  the  dwelling-houses  in  the 
town  of  their  weights,  to  melt  and  run 
into  bullets. 

Lee  was  very  anxious  about  the  result, 
for  he  had  little  faith  in  the  steadiness 
and  discipline  of  the  American  troops, 
most  of  whom  were  either  raw  recruits 
or  militiamen.  He  wras  particularly  de 
sirous  to  strengthen  the  works  on  Fort 
Sullivan,  which  to  his  experienced  eye 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LANDING  OF  THE  ENEMY. 


291 


appeared  by  no  means  to  satisfy  the  de 
mands  of  military  art.  He  accordingly, 
after  making  a  thorough  personal  inspec 
tion,  points  out  the  deficiencies,  and  or 
ders  that "  the  screen  behind  the  aperture 
of  the  traverse  be  immediately  begun  and 
finished  with  all  possible  expedition;  that 
a  breastwork  of  timber,  six  feet  high,  be 
raised  on  the  rampart ;  and  that  a  ban 
quet  be  raised  behind  the  traverse,  so  as 
to  enable  the  musquetry  to  fire  over; 
the  parapet  to  be  made  higher,  the  ditch 
deeper  and  wider,  a  screen  to  be  thrown 
up  behind  the  entrance,  and  a  facade  of 
fascines  or  old  timber  to  be  constructed, 
as  necessary  to  keep  up  the  light  sand 
of  which  the  breastwork  of  the  rear-guard 
is  composed."  Lee  was  all  astir,  going 
from  fort  to  fort,  and  issuing  these  em 
phatic  orders. 

Thirty-six  of  the  English  transports 
finally  came  up,  and  all  crossed  the  bar  in 
safety,  with  the  exception  of  two, 
one  of  which  was  got  off,  but  the 
other  went  to  pieces.  The  vessels  then 
anchored  off  Long  island,  which  is  situ 
ated  to  the  northeast  of  Sullivan's,  from 
which  it  is  only  separated  by  a  narrow 
channel  or  creek.  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
here  landed  two  thousand  of  his  troops 
and  about  five  hundred  sailors,  with  the 
intention  of  passing  over  to  Sullivan's 
island,  but  was  prevented  by  the  depth 
of  the  creek,  which  was  no  longer  forda- 
ble,  in  consequence  of  the  large  quantity 
of  water  driven  into  it  by  the  strong  and 
long-continued  easterly  winds.  Clinton 
was  accordingly  forced  to  raise  two  bai> 
teries  to  secure  his  position  upon  Long 
island,  and  to  cover  a  proposed  landing 


June  7. 


with  his  boats  (to  which  he  would  now 
be  obliged  to  resort)  upon  the  eastern 
end  of  Sullivan's,  where  the  Americans — 
principally  riflemen,  under  the  command 
of  Colonel  Thompson  —  had  posted  them 
selves  behind  a  breastwork. 

General  Lee  was  especially  anxious 
about  this  position,  and  says  to  Thomp 
son,  in  a  characteristic  order  for  the  day 
"  It  is  a  certain  truth  that  the  enemy 
entertain  a  most  fortunate  apprehension 
of  American  riflemen.  It  is  equally  cer 
tain  that  nothing  can  diminish  this  ap 
prehension  so  infallibly  as  a  frequent  in 
effectual  fire.  It  is  with  some  concern, 
therefore,  that  I  am  informed  that  your 
men  have  been  suffered  to  fire  at  a  most 
preposterous  distance.  Upon  this  prin 
ciple  I  must  entreat  and  insist  that  you 
consider  it  as  a  standing  order,  that  not 
a  man  under  your  command  is  to  fire  at 
a  greater  distance  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards,  at  the  utmost ;  in  short,  that 
they  never  fire  without  almost  a  moral 
certainty  of  hitting  their  obj  ect.  Distant 
firing  has  a  doubly  bad  effect :  it  encour 
ages  the  enemy,  and  adds  to  the  perni 
cious  persuasion  of  the  American  soldiers, 
viz.,  that  they  are  no  match  for  their  antago 
nists  at  close  fighting.  To  speak  plainly,  it 
is  almost  a  sure  method  of  making  them 
cowards.  Once  more,  I  must  request  that 
a  stop  be  put  to  this  childish,  vicious,  and 
scandalous  practice.  I  extend  the  rule 
to  those  who  have  the  care  of  the  field- 
pieces  ;  four  hundred  yards  is  the  great 
est  distance  they  should  be  allowed  to 
fire  at.  A  transgression  of  this  rule  will 
be  considered  as  the  effect  of  flurry  and 
want  of  courage." 


292 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


I  FART    II. 


Some  of  Thompson's  men.  from  fool- 
nardiness  or  curiosity,  had  crossed  the 
creek  to  Long  island;  whereat  Lee  is 
greatly  inflamed,  and  asks,  in  a  postscript 
to  his  order  :  "  Is  this  wise  ?  Is  it  soldier 
like  ?  Is  it  to  show  the  enemy  where  our 
weakness  is  ?" 

Sir  Henry,  while  busy  with  his  works 
on  L  ong  island,  took  occasion  in  the  mean 
time  io  issue  a  proclamation,  appealing 
to  the  loyalty  of  the  people  of  Charles 
ton  ;  but  it  only  served  to  inflame  them 
to  greater  patriotism  and  to  more  active 
efforts  for  defence.  The  British  com 
mander  seemed  in  no  haste  to  attempt 
to  cross  over  to  Sullivan's  island  ;  and  in 
the  meantime  his  troops  suffered  greatly, 
while  laboring  at  the  works,  from  the 
sweltering  summer  heat,from  which  there 
was  no  relief  of  shade  on  the  sandy,  des 
ert  island  upon  which  they  had  landed. 
Some  of  them  became  sun-struck,  many 
ill  with  dysentery,  and  all  more  or  less 
affected  by  the  severe  heat  and  the  brack 
ish  water  with  which  they  were  forced 
to  satisfy  their  burning  thirst. 

The  admiral  was  less  patient  than  Clin 
ton,  and  hastened  to  take  his  position  off 
Sullivan's  island,  which  he  proposed  to 
make  the  object  of  his  attack.  He  had, 
soon  after  his  arrival,  moved  the  Bristol, 
his  own  ship,  a  fifty-gun  vessel, 
opposite  to  the  large  fort  on  the 
western  extremity  of  the  island.  He  ex 
perienced  some  difficulty  in  crossing  the 
bar,  but,  by  lighting  the  ship  of  some  of 
her  cannon,  finally  succeeded  in  anchor 
ing  her  in  position.  It  was  not  until  the 
28th  of  June  (when  he  was  joined  by  a 
large  man-of-war  of  fifty  guns,  the  arrival 


June  10. 


of  which  he  had  been  awaiting)  that  he 
determined  to  make  his  attack.  On  that 
day  accordingly,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  he  began  to  move  his  ships. 
He  brought  the  Experiment  of  fifty,  the 
Active  of  twenty-eight,  and  the  Solebay 
of  the  same  number  of  guns,  in  line  with 
his  own  ship  the  Bristol,  and  moved  them 
all  in  close  to  the  front  of  the  fort;  and 
ordered  the  Action,  Siren,  and  Sphinx, 
each  twenty-eights,  to  try  to  get  inside, 
within  the  western  extremity  of  the  isl 
and,  where  the  fort  was  known  to  be  in 
complete.  These  vessels,  however,  in  at 
tempting  to  get  into  position,  got  aground 
upon  a  shoal  called  the  Middle  Ground. 
The  Actseon  stuck  fast,  and  all  efforts  to 
move  her  proved  ineffectual.  The  other 
two  got  afoul  of  each  other,  and  the 
Sphinx  lost  her  bowsprit  in  consequence  ; 
but  they  finally  succeeded,  in  the  course 
of  several  hours,  in  getting  off,  although 
in  the  meantime  they  were  exposed  to  a 
severe  fire  from  the  fort. 

As  the  vessels  were  getting  into  posi 
tion,  the  Thunder  (bomb)  was  throwing 
her  shells  upon  the  island,  but  not  with 
much  effect,  for  most  of  them  fell  into  a 
morass,  wrhere  the  fuses  were  soon  cxtin 
guished.  The  Active  was  the  first  to 
haul  in  and  anchor  in  front  of  the  fort. 
As  she  approached,  the  Americans  fired 
a  shot  or  two  at  her,  to  try,  as  it  were, 
the  range  of  their  guns.  She  was  soon 
followed  by  the  other  ships ;  and  when 
they  had  fairly  let  go  their  anchors,  they 
began  to  pour  in  their  broadsides,  whicii 
were  returned  by  a  deadly  fire  from  the 
forts.  The  vessels  kept  up  an  incessant 
and  well-directed  cannonade ;  but  their 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  SUCCESSFUL  DEFENCE  OF  CHARLESTON. 


293 


balls,  although  well  aimed,  did  but  little 
mischief,  as  they  sank  into  the  spongy 
palmetto-wood  without  causing  injury  to 
the  works.  The  American  riflemen,  in 
consequence  of  their  small  allowance  of 
powder,  did  not  fire  rapidly,  but  always 
with  effect.  Thus  the  struggle  was  kept 
up,  from  noon  till  night.  There  was  a 
pause  for  a  long  time  in  the  fire  of  the 
fort,  from  a  want  of  ammunition,  and  the 
enemy  began  to  think  they  had  won  the 
day ;  but  Lee,  who  was  stationed  at  Had- 
drell's  point,  on  the  mainland,  took  care 
to  send  a  supply,  and  soon  the  riflemen 
were  enabled  to  renew  their  deadly  shots. 

Clinton  in  the  meantime  made  an  at 
tempt  to  land  from  Long  island  with  a 
flotilla  of  small  boats ;  but  Thompson  and 
his  men,  bearing  in  mind  Lee's  orders, 
took  care  to  wait  till  they  reached  with 
in  musket-shot,  and  then  poured  upon 
them  such  a  volley,  that  Clinton  was 
forced  to  retire.  The  struggle  still  con 
tinued  between  the  ships  and  Fort  Sul 
livan. 

Lee  was  full  of  anxiety  during  this 
prolonged  contest.  He  knew  that  the 
garrison  was  composed  entirely  of  raw 
troops ;  he  knew  that  their  ammunition 
was  short;  and  as  the  bridge  of  boats, 
which  he  had  begun  to  construct  between 
the  island  and  the  mainland,  was  not  yet 
completed,  by  which  he  might  send  rein 
forcements,  he  was  fearful  that  all  would 
be  lost.  He  attempted  to  reach  the  isl 
and  ;  but  his  boat,  carried  adrift  by  the 
wind  and  the  tide,  could  not  make  the 
place.  His  aid-de-camp  wras  more  fortu 
nate,  and  came  back  from  his  visit  with 
the  most  inspiriting  accounts  of  the  tem 


per  of  the  garrison.  Lee  was  for  awhile 
doubtful  of  the  prudence  of  continuing 
the  conflict ;  but,  on  hearing  of  the  spirit 
of  those  in  the  fort,  "  I  determined,"  he 
says,  "  to  support  it  at  all  hazards.  On 
this  principle  I  thought  it  my  duty  to 
cross  over  to  the  island,  to  encourage  the 
garrison  by  my  presence ;  but  I  might 
have  saved  myself  that  trouble ;  for  I 
found,  on  my  arrival,  they  had  no  occa 
sion  for  any  sort  of  encouragement :  I 
found  them  determined  and  cool  to  the 
last  degree  :  their  behavior  would,  in  fact, 
have  done  honor  to  the  oldest  troops." 
Another  witness  tells  us  that  so  little  con 
fusion  and  disorder  existed  in  the  fort 
when  General  Lee  visited  it,  in  the  height 
of  the  action,  that  the  "  officers  laid  aside 
their  pipes  in  order  to  receive  him  with 
proper  respect." 

The  fight  was  continued  from  noon  un 
til  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  wrhen  Sir  Peter 
Parker  was  forced  to  slip  his  cables  and 
draw  off  his  ships.  The  havoc  upon  his 
decks  had  been  terrible.  The  fight  has 
been  eloquently  described  by  no  less  a 
person  than  Edmund  Burke,  who  at  that 
time  edited  the  "Annual  Register,"  of 
Dublin  :  "  Whilst  the  continued  thunder 
from  the  ships  seemed  sufficient  to  shake 
the  firmness  of  the  bravest  enemy,  and 
daunt  the  courage  of  the  most  veteran 
soldier,  the  return  made  by  the  fort  could 
not  fail  of  calling  for  the  respect,  as  well 
as  of  highly  incommoding,  the  brave  sea 
men  of  Britain.  In  the  midst  of  that 
dreadful  roar  of  artillery,  they  stuck  with 
the  greatest  constancy  and  firmness  to 
their  guns ;  fired  deliberately  and  slowly, 
and  took  a  cool  and  effective  aim.  The 


294 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


ships  suffered  accordingly;  they  were  torn 
to  pieces,  and  the  slaughter  was  dread 
ful.  Never  did  British  valor  shine  more 
conspicuous,  nor  never  did  our  marine, 
in  an  engagement  of  the  same  nature 
with  any  foreign  enemy,  experience  as 
rude  an  encounter.  The  springs  of  the 
Bristol's  cable  being  cut  by  the  shot,  she 
lay  for  some  time  exposed  in  such  a  man 
ner  to  the  enemy's  fire,  as  to  be  most 
dreadfully  raked.  The  brave  Captain  Mor 
ris,  after  receiving  a  number  of  wounds, 
which  would  have  sufficiently  justified  a 
gallant  man  in  retiring  from  his  station, 
still  with  a  noble  obstinacy  disdained  to 
quit  his  duty,  until,  his  arm  being  at  length 
shot  off,  he  was  carried  away  in  a  condi 
tion  which  did  not  afford  a  possibility  of 
recovery. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  quarter-deck  of  the 
Bristol  was  at  one  time  cleared  of  every 
person  but  the  commodore,  who  stood 
alone,  a  spectacle  of  intrepidity  and  firm 
ness  which  has  seldom  been  equalled, 
never  exceeded.  The  others  on  that 
deck  were  either  killed  or  carried  down 
to  have  their  wounds  dressed.  Nor  did 
Captain  Scott,  of  the  Experiment,  miss 
his  share  of  the  danger  or  glory,  who,  be 
sides  the  loss  of  an  arm,  received  so  many 
other  wounds,  that  his  life  was  at  first 
de-spaired  of." 

Lord  William  Campbell,  a  brother  of 
the  duke  of  Argyle,  and  the  royal  gov 
ernor  of  the  province  of  South  Carolina, 
served  as  a  volunteer,  and  was  mortally 
wounded  while  directing  a  gun  on  the 
lower  deck  of  the  Bristol.  Sir  Peter  Par 
ker  exposed  himself  during  the  whole 
fight  with  great  courage,  and  continued, 


although  bleeding  from  a  wound,  to  give 
his  orders  calmly  and  discreetly.  The 
wags  of  Carolina  amused  themselves  sub 
sequently  with  writing  verses  on  Sir  Pe 
ter's  mishap,  for  the  shot  which  struck 
him  had  taken  a  direction  which  natural 
ly  provoked  the  humorous  if  it  did  not 
inspire  the  poetical.  Thus  trolled  one 
of  the  newspaper  versifiers  of  the  day : 

"  If  honor  in  the  breech  is  lodged, 

As  Hudibras  hath  shown, 
It  may  from  hence  be  fairly  judged 
Sir  Peter's  honor 's  gone  !" 

The  loss  of  the  British  was  very  heavy, 
being  nearly  two  hundred  men  in  all, 
killed  and  wounded.  The  vessels  were 
greatly  damaged,  particularly  the  two 
fifty-gun  ships,  the  Bristol  and  the  Ex 
periment,  at  which  the  fire  of  the  garri 
son  was  chiefly  aimed.  On  the  former,  in 
addition  to  the  commodore,  Lord  Camp 
bell,  and  Captain  Morris,  the  two  latter 
mortally,  sixty-nine  men  were  wounded 
and  forty  killed.  On  the  Experiment, 
her  commander  and  seventy-nine  of  her 
officers  and  men  were  among  the  killed 
and  wounded.  This  terrible  havoc  proves 
how  greatly  these  two  vessels  were  ex 
posed.  Their  masts  and  rigging  were 
cut  up  and  riddled  with  shot,  the  Bristol 
having  had  over  seventy  balls  put  into 
her;  their  hulls  were  so  battered  and 
broken,  that  several  of  the  ports  were 
knocked  into  one.  Moultrie,  in  the  be 
ginning  of  the  engagement,  had  shouted 
to  his  men,  "  Mind  the  commodore  and 
the  fifty-gun  ships  !"  We  have  seen  how 
wrell  they  obeyed  the  word. 

The  Americans  lost  only  thirty-five  in 
killed  and  wounded  ;  but  the  soft  palmet- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


HONORS  OF  VICTORY. 


295 


to-wood  of  the  fort  was  studded  with  balls 
as  full  as  a  birthday-pudding  with  plums. 
Almost  every  tree  and  hut  on  the  island 
was  levelled  to  the  ground ;  and  no  less 
than  twelve  hundred  balls  of  different 
weights,  with  a  large  number  of  shells, 
were  picked  up  next  day  in  and  about  the 
fort.  All  the  Americans  behaved  them 
selves  with  admirable  steadiness  through 
out,  and  some  of  them  showed  great  dar 
ing.  In  the  beginning  of  the  action,  the 
flagstaff  was  shot  away ;  when  Sergeant 
Jasper,  of  the  grenadiers,  immediately 
leaped  over  the  parapet,  and,  picking  up 
the  flag,  which  had  fallen  on  the  outside 
upon  the  beach,  fastened  it  to  a  sponge 
staff  He  then  mounted  the  merlon,  and, 
while  the  balls  from  the  ships  were  fall 
ing  fast  about  him,  coolly  fixed  the  staff 
in  its  place.  Sergeant  M'Donald  was  mor 
tally  wounded,  but,  as  he  fell,  exhorted 
with  his  last  words  his  comrades  to  con 
tinue  steady  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and 
their  country. 

Next  morning,  all  the  men-of-war  had 
hauled  off  and  anchored  about  two  miles 
from  the  island,  with  the  exception  of 
the  Actseon,  which  remained  where  she 
first  struck.  The  garrison  began  to  fire 
at  her,  and  she  returned  several  shots ; 
but  finally  her  crew  set  fire  to  her,  and 
took  to  their  boats,  leaving  her  colors 
flying,  guns  loaded,  and  all  the  ammuni 
tion  and  stores  aboard.  A  party  of  Amer 
icans  then  put  off  from  the  shore,  and 
boarded  her  These  daring  fellows,  hav 
ing  hauled  down  the  flag,  taken  posses 
sion  of  the  ship's  bell,  and  filled  their  boats 
with  as  many  sails  and  stores  as  they 
could  hold,  prepared  to  return.  They, 


however,  though  the  flames  were  already 
bursting  through  the  deck  and  sides  of 
the  burning  ship,  stopped  to  have  a  shot 
at  the  commodore  :  so  they  pointed  three 
of  her  guns  at  the  Bristol,  and  fired  them, 
before  they  took  to  their  boats.  They 
had  not  been  half  an  hour  away,  when 
the  fire  reaching  her  magazine,  the  Ac- 
tceon  was  blown  up,  and  nothing  left  of 
her  but  a  shattered  remnant  of  her  hull. 

The  British  admiral  made  no  further 
attempt  upon  the  island.  Clinton,  how 
ever,  strove  again,  early  in  the  morning, 
to  land,  but  was  repulsed. 

Colonel  Moultrie  came  in  for  the  chief 
share  of  the  honors  of  the  victory.  Lee, 
in  his  despatch,  awards  great  credit  to 
him,  and  all  the  officers  and  men.  "  I 
beg  leave,"  he  says,  "to  recommend  in 
the  strongest  terms,  to  the  Congress,  the 
commanding  officer,Colonel  Moultrie,  and 
his  whole  garrison,  as  brave  soldiers  and 
excellent  citizens ;  nor  must  I  omit  at  the 
same  time  mentioning  Colonel  Thompson, 
who,  with  the  South-Carolina  rangers  and 
a  detachment  of  the  North-Carolina  regu 
lars,  repulsed  the  enemy  in  two  several 
attempts  to  make  a  lodgment  at  the  other* 
extremity  of  the  island. 

"  Our  loss,  considering  the  heat  and  du 
ration  of  the  fire,  was  inconsiderable  ;  we 
had  only  ten  men  killed  on  the  spot  and 
twenty-two  wounded;  seven  of  whom 
lost  their  limbs,  but  with  their  limbs  they 
did  not  lose  their  spirits,  for  they  enthu 
siastically  encouraged  their  comrades  nev 
er  to  abandon  the  standard  of  liberty  and 
their  country." 

Lee  had  never,  from  his  distrust  of  the 
raw  American  troops,  been  very  sanguine 


206 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PATCT  n 


of  success.  He  wrote  that  Charleston 
was  "utterly  defenceless/'  and  he  had 
been  very  anxious  to  secure  a  retreat 
from  Sullivan's  island,  by  means  of  a 
bridge  of  boats  connecting  it  with  the 
mainland  at  Haddrell's  point.  During 
the  whole  action  he  kept  his  men  busy 
at  this  work ;  but  he  could  not  get  boats 
enough,  and  was  forced  to  resort  to  the 
expedient  of  fastening  planks  upon  emp 
ty  hogsheads.  This,  however,  proved 
ineffectual,  and  the  bridge  was  never 
made  practicable  for  the  purpose  intend 
ed.  Colonel  Moultrie  had  more  confi 
dence  in  his  men,  and  he  knew  them  bet 
ter  than  Lee.  "  For  my  part,"  says  Moul 
trie,  "  I  never  was  uneasy  in  not  having 
a  retreat,  because  I  never  imagined  that 
the  enemy  could  force  me  to  that  neces- 
sity." 

Moultrie  did  not  over-estimate  the 
steady  courage  and  endurance  of  his 
men ;  but  all  their  good  conduct  would 
probably  have  proved  vain,  if  the  three 
vessels-of-war  which  Parker  had  ordered 
around  the  western  extremity  of  the  isl 
and  had  succeeded  in  getting  into  posi 
tion,  for  they  would  have  poured  their 
broadsides  upon  a  part  of  the  fort  which, 


being  unfinished,  could  not  have  with 
stood  the  first  cannonade. 

The  American  colonel  was  fitly  hon 
ored  by  an  act  of  the  legislature  of  Caro 
lina,  changing  the  name  of  Fort  Sullivan 
to  that  of  Fort  Moultrie.  Congress,  too, 
voted  him,  as  well  as  Lee  and  Thomp 
son,  the  thanks  of  the  country.  The 
brave  Sergeant  Jasper  was  rewarded  on 
the  day  after  the  victory,  by  Governor 
Rutledge,  who  presented  him  with  the 
sword  from  his  own  side.  He  offered 
him,  moreover,  a  lieutenant's  commission ; 
but  the  humble  Jasper,  who  could  neither 
read  nor  write,  refused,  saying:  "I  am 
not  fit  to  keep  officers'  company ;  I  am 
but  a  sergeant."* 

The  British  vessels  anchored  off  Lon^ 

o 

island  to  refit;  and  such  was  the  dam 
aged  condition  of  the  larger  ships,  that 
they  were  detained  a  long  time  in  getting 
ready  again  for  sea.  General  Clinton  and 
Lord  Cornwallis,  in  the  mean 
while,  sailed  with  the  troops,  in 
a  fleet  of  transports,  under  the  escort  of 
the  Solebay  frigate,  bearing  the  flag  of 
Commodore  Parker,  and  bound  for  New 
York. 

*  Lossing. 


June  30. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THOMAS  MIFFLIN. 


297 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Washington's  Troops  busy  with  the  Pickaxe  and  Spade  on  Long  Island. — The  Bustling  Mifflin. — His  Character. — A 
Military  Dandy's  Sneer  at  the  Provincials. — Takes  the  "Measure"  of  the  Outward  Man. — Provincial  Jealousies  and 
Quarrels. — Washington  rebukes  the  Quarrelsome. — Is  anxious  about  the  Approach  of  the  Enemy. — The  British  ar 
rive  at  Sandy  Hook. — Washington  on  the  Lookout. — Strengthens  the  Posts  on  the  Hudson. — Sir  William  Howe 
awaits  his  Brother's  Arrival. — Washington  expects  a  Struggle,  and  appeals  to  the  Patriotism  of  his  Army. 


1776, 


"  TRUE  soldiers  and  magnanimous 


citizens  must  brandish  the  pickaxe 
and  spade  as  well  as  the  sword,"  said  Lee  ; 
and  the  army  under  Washington  at  New 
York  was  now  in  full  appreciation  of  this 
military  truth.  The  men  were  kept  bu 
sily  at  work  digging,  ditching,  and  in 
trenching,  on  Long  island,  under  Greene, 
and  at  Kingsbridge,  under  the  ever-active 
Mifflin.  The  latter  was  a  "  bustler"  who, 
as  one  of  the  sufferers  reports,  "  harassed 
us  unnecessarily,  and,  considering  the  un 
avoidable  severity  of  our  duty,  to  the  real 
injury  of  the  health  of  the  troops."  The 
manners  of  Mifflin  "  were  better  adapted 
to  attract  popularity  than  to  preserve  it. 
Highly  animated  in  his  appearance,  and 
possessing  in  an  eminent  degree  the  tal 
ent  of  haranguing  a  multitude,  his  ser 
vices  in  giving  motion  to  the  militia" 
were  acknowledged.  "  He  assumed  a  lit 
tle  of  the  veteran  from  having  lain  be 
fore  Boston,"  and  was  very  fond  of  telling 
his  men  that  he  would  bring  them  into 
"  a  scrape."  "  He  was  a  man  of  educa 
tion,  ready  apprehension,  and  brilliancy  ; 
had  spent  some  time  in  Europe,  particu 
larly  in  France,  and  was  very  easy  of  ac 
cess,  with  the  manners  of  genteel  life, 
38 


though  occasionally  evolving  those  of 
the  Quaker." 

General  THOMAS  MIFFLIN,  with  all  his 
eccentricities,  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the 
most  useful  men  of  the  Revolution.  Af 
ter  serving,  as  we  have  seen  him,  at  the 
siege  of  Boston,  as  quartermaster-general, 
with  unsparing  energy  and  inexhaustible 
ingenuity  of  resource,  he  was  appointed 
by  Congress  a  brigadier-general,  and  now, 
at  the  early  age  of  thirty-two,  has  com 
mand  of  the  forces  engaged  in  the  con 
struction  of  the  works  at  Fort  Washing 
ton  and  Kingsbridge. 

The  gentlemanly  qualifications,  and 
his  ease  "  of  access,  with  the  manners  of 
genteel  life,"  if  not  the  higher  virtues  of 
Mifflin,  were  appreciated  by  the  military 
coxcombs  of  the  day,  one  of  whom*  has 
been  very  free  in  his  revelations  of  the 
graces  and  want  of  graces  of  his  comrades 
while  with  them  engaged  in  brandishing 
"the  pickaxe  and  spade"  about  Fort  Wash 
ington,  a  duty  certainly  not  very  favor 
able  to  over-nice  appearances  •  for,  as  oui 
authority  acknowledges,  it  gave  them  all 
the  look  of  "scavengers."  He  tells  us  how 
Colonel  Putnam  carried  home  from  mar- 

*  Graydon. 


298 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


ket  his  own  meat,  by  the  way  of  showing 
a  good  example  to  his  officers,  and  re 
marks  :  "  But  if  any  aristocratic  tenden 
cies  had  been  really  discovered  by  the 
colonel  among  his  countrymen,  requiring 
this  wholesome  example,  they  must  have 
been  of  recent  origin,  and  the  effect  of 
southern  contamination."  This  fastidious 
gentleman  is  especially  shocked  by  the 
want  of  nice  social  discrimination  on  the 
part  of  the  New-England  officers,  and,  al 
though  rather  unnecessarily  delicate  in 
his  genteel  sensibility,  he  seems  justified 
in  his  sneers  when  colonels  were  known 
to  make  drummers  and  fifers  of  their 
sons,  in  order  to  put  their  pittance  of 
pay  into  the  family  purse,  and  when  oth 
er  New-England  officers  turned  their  chil 
dren  into  waiters.* 

The  ridicule  of  our  fine  gentleman  was 
greatly  moved  by  the  arrival  in  camp  of  a 
body  of  Connecticut  lighkhorse  :  "  These 
consisted  of  a  considerable  number  of  old- 
fashioned  men — probably  farmers  and 
heads  of  families,  as  they  were  generally 
middle-aged,  and  many  of  them  appa 
rently  beyond  the  meridian  of  life.  They 
were  truly  irregulars ;  and  whether  their 
clothing,  their  equipments,  or  caparisons, 
were  regarded,  it  would  have  been  diffi 
cult  to  have  discovered  any  circumstance 
of  uniformity ;  though  in  the  features  de 
rived  from  'local  habitation'  they  were 
one  and  the  same. 

"  Instead  of  carbines  and  sabres,  they 
generally  carried  fowling-pieces ;  some 
of  them  very  long,  and  such  as  in  Penn 
sylvania  are  used  for  shooting  ducks. 
Here  and  there  one,  'his  youthful  gar- 

*  Thacher. 


ments  well  saved,'  appeared  in  a  dingy 
regimental  of  scarlet,  with  a  triangular, 
tarnished,  laced  hat.  In  short,  so  little 
were  they  like  modern  soldiers,  in  air  or 
costume,  that,  dropping  the  necessary 
number  of  years,  they  might  have  been 
supposed  the  identical  men  who  had  in 
part  composed  Pepperell's  army  at  the 
taking  of  Louisburg." 

These  men  were  volunteers,  and  might 
have  proved  fair  soldiers,  notwithstand 
ing  their  "  dingy  regimentals"  and  "  sorry 
jades,"  had  they  been  a  little  more  trac 
table.  Washington  discharged  them  — 
not,  however,  because  they  did  not  look 
like  regular  soldiers,  but  because  they 
were  not  very  ready  to  submit  to  become 
such.  "The  Connecticut  light- horse," 
says  Washington,  in  his  despatch  to  Con 
gress,  "mentioned  in  my  letter  of 
the  llth,  notwithstanding  their 
then  promise  to  continue  here  for  the  de 
fence  of  this  place,  are  now  discharged, 
and  about  to  return  home,  having  per 
emptorily  refused  all  kind  of  fatigue-du 
ty,  or  even  to  mount  guard,  claiming  an 
exemption  as  troopers.  Though  their 
assistance  is  much  needed,  and  might  be 
of  essential  service  in  case  of  an  attack, 
yet  I  judged  it  advisable,  on  their  appli 
cation  and  claim  of  such  indulgences,  to 
discharge  them ;  as  granting  them  would 
set  an  example  to  others,  and  might  pro 
duce  many  ill  consequences." 

A  more  sober  authority  is  no  less  free 
in  his  revelations  of  the  manners  and  con 
duct  of  the  New-England  officers  than  the 
fine  gentleman  we  have  already  quoted. 
"  It  was  the  case,"  says  Gordon,  "  in  di 
vers  instances,  that,  when  a  company  was 


Jnly  17. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MILITARY  DRESS  AND  MANNERS. 


299 


forming,  the  men  would  choose  those  for 
officers  who  consented  to  throw  their  pay 
into  a  joint  stock  with  the  privates,  from 
which  captains,  lieutenants,  ensigns,  ser 
geants,  corporals,  with  drummers  and  pri 
vates,  drew  equal  shares.  Can  it  then  be 
wondered  at,  however  mortifying  it  may 
prove,  that  a  captain  should  be  tried  and 
broken  for  stealing  his  soldiers'  blankets, 
or  that  another  officer  should  be  found 
shaving  his  men  in  the  face  of  distin 
guished  characters  ?" 

There  is  a  single  exception  "  to  these 
miserably -constituted  bands  from  New 
England"  made  in  favor  of  the  regiment 
of  Glover,  from  Marblehead  "There 
was,"  says  our  fastidious  military  critic, 
"an  appearance  of  discipline  in  this  corps; 
the  officers  seemed  to  have  mixed  with 
the  world,  and  to  understand  what  be 
longed  to  their  stations.  Though  defi 
cient,  perhaps,  in  polish,  it  possessed  an 
apparent  aptitude  for  the  purpose  of  its 
institution,  and  gave  a  confidence  that 
myriads  of  its  meek  and  lowly  brethren 
were  incompetent  to  inspire."  But  even 
Glover's  seems,  in  the  nice  eyes  of  Gray- 
don,  to  have  a  blot ;  for  in  his  regiment 
"  there  were  a  number  of  negroes,  which, 
to  persons  unaccustomed  to  such  associa 
tions,  had  a  disagreeable,  degrading  ef 
fect." 

Even  aristocratic  Virginia  failed  to  come 
up  to  the  high  standard  of  our  genteel 
annalist.*  "  Neither,"  he  says,  "  did  the 
fighting  department  appear  to  be  fash 
ionable  among  the  gentry  of  Virginia. 
It  must  be  admitted  that  she  furnished 
some  gentlemen  aids-de-camp  and  volun- 

*  Gray  don. 


teers,  and  afterward  corps  of  cavalry,  re 
spectably  officered  ;  but  the  serious,  drudg 
ing  business  of  war  devolves  on  the  in 
fantry  ;  and,  in  this  description  of  force, 
she  evinced  but  little  brilliancy."  He 
then  tells  us  of  a  Virginian  commander 
whom  he  knew, who  had  "  the  appearance 
of  a  reputable  planter,"  and  concedes 
that  "he  might  have  been  both  patri 
otic  and  brave,"  but  adds,  "  neither  him 
self  nor  his  officers  were  of  the  kind  that 
bespoke  the  elite  of  their  country." 

The  general  officers  even  did  not  es 
cape  the  tailor-like  scrutiny  of  Graydon, 
who  •  says,  "  The  celebrated  General  Put 
nam,  riding  with  a  hanger  belted  across 
his  brawny  shoulders,  over  a  waistcoat 
without  sleeves  (his  summer  costume), 
was  deemed  much  fitter  to  head  a  band  of 
sicklemen  or  ditchers  than  musketeers." 
General  Greene,  too,  did  not  "  shine  with 
all  the  eclat"  that  might  have  been  de 
sired  by  the  army  coxcombs.  He  also 
doubtless  stripped  his  "  brawny  shoul 
ders"  to  the  work  along  with  "  Old  Put." 

The  "  city-bred  Marylander,"  however, 
seems  to  have  been  faultless,  for  "  he  was 
distinguished  by  the  most  fashionably- 
cut  coat,  the  most  macaroni  cocked  hat, 
and  hottest  blood  in  the  Union."  One 
battalion,"  that  of  Smallwood,  appears  to 
have  been  particularly  worthy  of  admi 
ration,  for  "  its  officers  exhibited  a  mar 
tial  appearance,  by  a  uniform  of  scarlet 
and  buff." 

There  was  something,  however,  more 
serious  than  these  small  distinctions  of 
dress  and  manners  between  the  various 
officers  and  men.  Provincial  jealousies 
often  arose,  and,  although  starting  from 


300 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


the  most  trifling  causes,  led  to  the  most 
serious  results.  "  A  singular  kind  of  riot," 
says  Thacher,  "  took  place  in  our  bar 
racks  last  evening,  attended  by  some  un 
pleasant  consequences.  Colonel  A 

W ,  of  Massachusetts,  made  choice  of 

his  two  sons,  who  were  soldiers  in  his 
regiment,  to  discharge  the  menial  duties 
of  waiters ;  and  one  of  them,  having  been 
brought  up  a  shoemaker,  the  colonel  was 
so  inconsiderate  as  to  allow  to  work  on 
his  bench  in  the  same  room  with  himself. 
The  ridiculous  conduct  has  for  some  time 
drawn  on  the  good  old  man  the  contempt 
uous  sneers  of  the  gentlemen-officers,  es 
pecially  those  from  Pennsylvania.  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  C ,  of  Wayne's  regi 
ment,  being  warmed  with  wine,  took  on 
himself  the  task  of  reprehending  the 
*  Yankee'  colonel  for  thus  degrading  his 
rank.  With  this  view,  he  rushed  into  the 
room  in  the  evening,  and  soon  despatched 
the  shoemaker's  bench;  after  which  he 
made  an  assault  on  the  colonel's  person, 
and  bruised  him  severely.  The  noise  and 
confusion  soon  collected  a  number  of  offi 
cers  and  soldiers,  and  it  was  a  consider 
able  time  before  the  rioters  could  be 
quelled.  Some  of  the  soldiers  actually 
took  to  their  arms  and  dared  the  Yankees, 
and  then  proceeded  to  the  extremity  of 
firing  their  guns.  About  thirty  or  forty 
rounds  were  aimed  at  the  soldiers  of  our 
regiment,  who  were  driven  from  their 
huts  and  barracks,  and  several  of  them 
were  seriously  wounded."  A  reconcilia 
tion  ensued,  but  it  only  added  to  the  dis- 
reputableness  of  the  affair. 

"  It  was  in  the  power  of  Colonel  W ," 

adds  Thacher,  "  and  in  fact  it  was  his  du 


ty,  to  bring  the  audacious  offenders  to 
exemplary  punishment ;  but,  as  if  to  com 
plete  the  disgrace  of  the  transaction,  Colo 
nel  C sent  some  soldiers  into  the 

woods  to  shoot  a  fat  bear,  with  which  he 
made  an  entertainment,  and  invited  Colo 
nel  W-  -  and  his  officers  to  partake  of 
it ;  this  effected  a  reconciliation,  and  Colo 
nel  W—  -  was  induced  to  overlook  the 
high-handed  assault  on  his  own  person 
and  on  the  lives  of  his  soldiers."  At  the 
close,  Thacher  puts  in  a  good  word  for 
his  commander  and  fellow-provincial,  say 
ing,  "  Our  colonel  is  a  serious,  good  man, 
but  is  more  conversant  with  the  econo 
my  of  domestic  life  than  the  etiquette 
practised  in  camp."  This  occurred  in 
Gates's  army,  at  the  North. 

In  New  York,  the  troops  seem  to  have 
been  no  less  jealous  of,  and  quarrelsome 
with,  each  other;  for  Washington  finds 
it  necessary  to  issue  this  order : 
"  It  is  with  great  concern  that 
the  general  understands  that  jealousies 
have  arisen  among  the  troops  from  the 
different  provinces,  and  reflections  are 
frequently  thrown  out,  which  can  only 
tend  to  irritate  each  other,  and  injure  the 
noble  cause  in  which  we  are  engaged,  and 
which  we  ought  to  support  with  one  hand 
and  one  heart. 

"  The  general  most  earnestly  entreats 
the  officers  and  soldiers  to  consider  the 
consequences ;  that  they  can  no  way  as 
sist  our  enemies  more  effectually,  than 
by  making  divisions  among  ourselves ; 
that  the  honor  and  success  of  the  army, 
and  the  safety  of  our  bleeding  country, 
depend  upon  harmony  and  good  agree 
ment  with  each  other ;  that  the  provinces 


August  1. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


GENERAL  HOWE  AT  NEW  YORK. 


301 


are  all  united  to  oppose  the  common 
enemy,  and  all  distinctions  sunk  in  the 
name  of  an  '  American.'  To  make  this 
name  honorable,  and  to  preserve  the  lib 
erty  of  our  country,  ought  to  be  our  only 
emulation ;  and  he  will  be  the  best  sol 
dier  and  the  best  patriot  who  contributes 
most  to  this  glorious  work,  whatever  his 
station  or  from  whatever  part  of  the  con 
tinent  he  may  come. 

"Let  all  distinctions  of  nations,  coun 
tries,  and  provinces,  therefore  be  lost  in 
the  generous  contest  who  shall  behave 
with  the  most  courage  against  the  ene 
my,  and  the  most  kindness  and  good  hu 
mor  to  each  other. 

"  If  there  be  any  officers  or  soldiers  so 
lost  to  virtue  and  love  of  their  country 
as  to  continue  in  such  practices  after  this 
order,  the  general  assures  them,  and  is 
authorized  by  Congress  to  declare  to  the 
whole  army,  that  such  persons  shall  be 
severely  punished  and  dismissed  from  the 
service  with  disgrace." 

Washington  was  naturally  anxious,with 
his  army  as  yet  only  reinforced  by  a  small 
portion  of  the  militia  levied  by  Congress, 
and  with  considerable  distrust  of  the  good 
conduct  of  some  of  his  troops,  whose  oc 
casional  disorderly  behavior  may  be  in 
ferred  from  the  facts  which  we  have  al 
ready  stated.  Although  we  have  some 
what  anticipated  events  for  the  sake  of 
illustration,  whatever  we  have  said,  in  re 
gard  to  the  conduct  of  both  officers  and 
men,  will  apply  to  the  earlier  as  well  as 
the  later  period. 

When,  therefore,  Washington  learns,  on 
the  28th  of  June,  that  General  Howe  had, 
on  the  9th,  left  Halifax  with  a  fleet  of 


one  hundred  and  thirty  sail,  bound  to 
Sandy  Hook,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he 
should  write :  "  I  could  wish  General 
Howe  and  his  armament  not  to  arrive 
yet,  as  no  more  than  a  thousand  militia 
have  come  in,  and  our  whole  force,  inclu 
ding  the  troops  at  all  the  detached  posts, 
and  on  board  the  armed  vessels,  which 
are  comprehended  in  our  returns,  is  but 
small  and  inconsiderable,  when  compared 
with  the  extensive  lines  they  are  to  de 
fend,  and  most  probably  the  army  that 
he  brings." 

Washington,  seldom  perturbed,  and 
never  more  calm  than  in  danger,  was 
still  fully  conscious  of  the  difficulties  of 
his  position.  "  We  expect  a  bloody  sum 
mer  in  New  York,"  he  wrote  to  his  broth 
er,  "  and  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  are 
not,  either  in  men  or  arms,  prepared  for 
it.  However,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that,  if 
our  cause  is  just,  as  I  most  religiously 
believe  it,  the  same  Providence  which  has 
in  many  instances  appeared  for  us,  will 
still  go  on  to  afford  its  aid."  Again  Wash 
ington  writes  to  Schuyler :  "  Our  , 

...  ,      June  28, 
most  vigorous  exertions  will  be 

required  in  every  instance.  I  am  con 
vinced  our  enemies  will  strain  every 
nerve  against  us  this  campaign,  and  try 
to  injure  us  wherever  we  may  be  unpro 
vided." 

On  that  day  (28th  of  June)  four  Brit- 
ish  ships  —  on  one  of  which,  the  Grey 
hound,  was  General  Howe  —  came  to  an 
chor  in  the  bay  of  New  York.  On  the 
29th,  the  officer  appointed  to  keep  a  look 
out  on  Staten  island  sent  an  express  to 
Washington,  with  the  word  that  forty- 
five  more  vessels  had  arrived  off  Sandy 


302 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Hook.  "  I  am  hopeful,"  writes  Washing 
ton  on  the  occasion,  "before  they  are 
prepared  to  attack,  that  I  shall  get  some 

reinforcements Be  that  as  it  may,"  he 

resolutely  adds,  "  I  shall  attempt  to  make 
the  best  disposition  I  can  of  our  troops, 
in  order  to  give  them  a  proper  reception, 
and  prevent  the  ruin  and  destruction 
they  are  meditating  against  us." 

It  was  supposed  that  Howe  would  im 
mediately  begin  an  attack.  Washington 
accordingly  was  active  in  preparation, 
and  strenuously  urged  on  the  arrival  of 
the  expected  militia  from  the  neighbor 
ing  provinces.  His  old  Virginia  friend, 
Doctor  (now  General)  Mercer,  was  ap 
pointed  to  the  command  of  the  "flying 
camp,"  and  kept  busy  at  Amboy,  in  con 
junction  with  General  Livingston,  of  New 
Jersey,  in  recruiting  and  keeping  a  watch 
upon  the  enemy.  As  it  was  thought 
probable  that  the  British  would  force 
their  way  up  the  Hudson,  with  the  view 
of  opening  a  communication  with  Carle- 
ton's  victorious  forces  at  the  North,  Wash 
ington  directed  his  attention  especially 
to  the  strengthening  of  his  posts  along 
the  banks  of  that  river. 

Great  vigilance  was  urged  upon  the 
commanders  of  all  the  forts,  and  Mifflin 
"  the  bustler"  was  especially  on  the  alert 
at  Kingsbridge  and  Fort  Washington. 
His  lines  were  manned  every  morning 
before  daylight,  and  his  ranks  formed  for 
action.  The  men  were  led  to  believe,  by 
the  confident  assertions  of  their  com 
mander,  that  the  enemy  had  already 
landed  in  the  neighborhood.  One  of  the 
officers,  harassed  by  these  early  risings 
and  frequent  calls  to  duty,  finally  came 


to  the  conclusion  that  the  general  was 
merely  crying  "  Wolf !"  and  that  it  was 
a  contrivance  of  that  "bustler"  Mifflin 
to  inure  his  troops  to  alarms  and  render 
them  alert. 

Although  at  the  head  of  ten  thousand 
men,  General  Howe  was  not  yet  prepared 
to  make  a  demonstration.  He  was  await 
ing  the  arrival  of  his  brother,  Admiral 
Lord  Howe,  with  a  formidable  fleet,  hav 
ing  on  board  a  large  reinforcement  of 
those  hated  Hessians.  Washington  be 
came  aware  of  Howe's  purpose,  and,  as 
the  admiral  was  hourly  expected,  strove 
to  prepare  his  army  for  the  formidable  en 
counter  which  awaited  them.  He  issued 
the  following  order,  which,  in  earnestness 
of  patriotic  feeling  and  force  of  expres 
sion  has  never  been  surpassed  by  the 
most  ardent  appeals  to  men  to  fight  for 
their  freedom: — 

"  The  time  is  now  near  at  hand,  which 
must  probably  determine  whether  Amer 
icans  are  to  be  freemen  or  slaves ;  wheth 
er  they  are  to  have  any  prop 
erty  they  can  call  their  own? 
whether  their  houses  and  farms  are  to 
be  pillaged  and  destroyed,  and  they  con 
signed  to  a  state  of  wretchedness,  from 
which  no  human  efforts  will  probably  de 
liver  them. 

"  The  fate  of  unborn  millions  will  now 
depend,  under  God,  on  the  courage  and 
conduct  of  this  army.  Our  cruel  and  un 
relenting  enemy  leaves  us  no  choice  but 
a  brave  resistance  or  the  most  abject  sub 
mission.  This  is  all  that  we  can  expect. 
We  have,  therefore,  to  resolve  to  conquer 
or  die.  Our  own  country's  honor  calls 
upon  us  for  a  vigorous  and  manly  exer- 


July  2, 


JIEVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  GREATEST  QUESTION. 


303 


tion ;  and  if  we  now  shamefully  fail,  we 
shall  become  infamous  to  the  whole  world. 
"  Let  us  rely  upon  the  goodness  of  the 
cause,  and  the  aid  of  the  Supreme  Being, 
in  whose  hands  victory  is,  to  animate  and 
encourage  us  to  great  and  noble  actions. 
The  eyes  of  all  our  countrymen  are  now 
upon  us,  and  we  shall  have  their  blessings 
and  praises,  if  happily  we  are  the  instru 
ments  of  saving  them  from  the  tyranny 
meditated  against  them.  Let  us  animate 
and  encourage  each  other,  and  show  the 
whole  world  that  a  freeman  contending 
for  liberty  on  his  own  ground  is  superior 
to  any  slavish  mercenary  on  earth. 


"  The  general  recommends  to  the  offi 
cers  great  coolness  in  time  of  action,  and 
to  the  soldiers  a  strict  attention  and  obe 
dience,  with  a  becoming  firmness  and 
spirit.  Any  officer  or  soldier,  or  any  par 
ticular  corps,  distinguishing  itself  by  any 
acts  of  bravery  and  courage,  will  assu 
redly  meet  with  notice  and  rewards ;  and 
on  the  other  hand,  those  who  behave  ill 
will  as  certainly  be  exposed  and  punished ; 
the  general  being  resolved,  as  well  for 
the  honor  and  safety  of  the  country  as 
of  the  army,  to  show  no  favor  to  such  as 
refuse  or  neglect  to  do  their  duty  at  so 
important  a  crisis." 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Declaration  of  Independence. — The  Sentiment  of  the  Country. — "Common  Sense." — Thomas  Paine. — His  Life,  Charac 
ter,  and  Services. — The  Reception  of  the  "  Declaration"  at  Philadelphia. — In  the  Army. — By  the  Citizens  of  New 
York. — Destruction  of  the  Statue  of  George  III. — Washington  rebukes  the  Riotous  Inhabitants  of  New  York. — Gen 
eral  Howe  in  High  Spirits. — The  Rose  and  Phoenix  again  up  the  Hudson. — Arrival  of  Lord  Howe. — His  Life  and 
Character. — Commissioners  to  treat. — Proclamation. — Franklin  and  Lord  Howe. — Proof  against  Seduction. — A  Flag. 
— "  George  Washington,  Esquire,  &c.,  &c.,  &c." — The  Superscription  not  acknowledged. — The  British  General,  taught 
better,  writes  "  General  Washington." 


1776, 


"  THE  greatest  question  ever  de 
bated  in  America,  and  as  great  as 
ever  was  or  ever  will  be  debated  among 
men,"  as  John  Adams  called  it,  was  de 
cided  by  this  resolution  of  Congress  on 
the  2d  day  of  July,  1776:  "THAT  THESE 
UNITED  COLONIES  ARE,  AND  OF  RIGHT  OUGHT 
TO  BE,  FREE  AND  INDEPENDENT  STATES." 

The  Declaration  of  Independence  was 
not,  however,  adopted  until  the  4th  of 
July,  an  event  which  is  now  so  wrought 
into  the  heart  of  every  American,  that  it 
is  superfluous  for  the  historian  to  record 
the  day  or  the  year  of  its  occurrence. 


This  is  an  historical  fact  which  requires 
no  book  for  its  record ;  it  is  so  early 
learned  by  every  child  of  America,  that 
his  knowledge  of  it  seems  an  instinct  of 
his  nature. 

When  this  momentous  act  was  passed, 
the  people  were  not  unprepared  for  it. 
Many  of  the  provinces  had  already,  by 
vote  in  their  assemblies,  resolved  upon 
independence  from  Great  Britain;  and 
North  Carolina,  we  believe,  claims  not 
only  to  have  anticipated  the  act,  but  even 
the  words  of  the  declaration. 

By  the  thoughtful  men  of  the  country 


304 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


the  possibility  and  even  the  necessity  and 
desirableness  of  separation  from  Great 
Britain,  had  long  been  considered.  As 
early  as  November,  1774,  Josiah  Quincy 
wrote  :  "  Doctor  Franklin  is  an  American 
in  heart  and  soul.  His  ideas  are  not  con 
tracted  within  the  narrow  limits  of  ex 
emption  from  taxes,  but  are  extended  on 
the  broad  scale  of  total  emancipation. 
He  is  explicit  and  bold  on  the  subject." 
Others  capable  of  comprehensive  views 
of  national  policy  had  undoubtedly  seen 
at  an  early  period,  in  common  with  Ben 
jamin  Franklin,  the  ultimate  result  of  the 
difficulties  between  the  colonies  and  the 
mother-country. 

It  was  long,  however,  before  the  sen 
timent  of  the  country  was  fully  moulded 
to  the  definite  idea  of  independence. 
This  was  a  result  which  might  have 
crowned  with  honor  the  noble  endeavors 
of  the  highest :  it  was,  however,  reserved 
as  a  triumph  for  the  humble  stayrnaker 
of  Thetford.  All  agree  in  attributing  to 
Thomas  Paine  the  preparation  of  the  pop 
ular  mind  for  independent  government. 
"  Common  Sense,"  as  its  title  promised, 
was  a  direct  appeal  to  the  general  intelli 
gence  of  the  people.  Clear,  forcible,  and 
familiar  in  style,  straightforward  in  ar 
gument,  and  free  from  all  theoretical 
abstractions  and  subtleties,  this  famous 
work  was  read  and  understood  by  all. 
"That  celebrated  pamphlet," Burke  called 
it, "  which  prepared  the  minds  of  the  peo 
ple  for  independence." 

"Common  Sense"  circulated  every 
where  throughout  the  provinces.  It  was 
read  by  the  Virginian  planter  while  loun 
ging  beneath  his  portico  on  the  banks  of 


the  Potomac,  and  by  the  New-England 
farmer  at  his  fireside  during  the  long 
nights  of  winter.  The  soldier  fired  anew 
with  martial  spirit  as,  amid  the  stir  and 
noise  of  war,  he  glanced  at  its  pages  of 
stirring  eloquence ;  and  the  statesman 
learned  wTisdom  from  its  clear  exposition 
of  political  rights  and  principles. 

THOMAS  PAINE  was  born  at  Thetford,  in 
the  county  of  Norfolk,  England,  in  the 
year  1737.  His  parents,  who  were  Qua 
kers,  were  reputable  townspeople,  and 
brought  up  their  son  in  accordance  with 
their  own  position.  He  was  apprenticed 
to  a  staymaker  in  his  own  town,  but,  with 
a  fondness  for  books,  and  some  early  suc 
cess  as  a  writer,  he  tired  of  his  trade,  and 
became  subsequently  a  schoolmaster.  By 
means  of  some  small  patronage,  Paine 
succeeded  in  getting  the  appointment  of 
an  exciseman,  and  while  thus  occupied 
wrote  a  pamphlet  upon  a  subject  con 
nected  with  his  business.  It  was  this 
early  effort  which  is  said  to  have  first  at 
tracted  the  notice  of  Franklin,  then  in 
London,  to  the  author.  Paine  was  poor, 
and  desirous  of  bettering  his  condition ; 
and  was  thus  induced  by  Franklin  to  try 
his  fortune  in  America.  He  settled,  on 
his  arrival,  in  Philadelphia,  where  he  be 
came  the  editor  of  a  journal,  and  soon 
attracted  notice  by  the  vigor  of  his  politi 
cal  articles.  In  January,  1776,  he  pub 
lished  his  "  Common  Sense  ;"  and  its  in 
fluence  was  so  great,  that  it  almost  justi 
fied  the  remark  that  "  Paine  did  as  much 
for  the  American  cause  by  his  pen  as 
Washington  by  his  sword." 

The  announcement  of  the  DECLARATION 
OF  INDEPENDENCE  was  received  everywhere 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE 


305 


by  the  patriots  with  exulting  joy.  In 
Philadelphia,  thousands  of  the  citizens, 
expectant  of  the  event,  gathered  in  the 
streets,  and  thronged  about  the  entrance 
of  the  Hall  of  Independence.  The  bell 
man  was  posted  in  the  tower  above,  and 
a  messenger  at  the  doors  of  the  hall  with 
in  which  the  representatives  of  America 
were  assembled.  The  vote  passed ;  the 
result  was  declared ;  a  shout  of  enthusi 
asm  followed ;  the  bell  rang  vigorously ; 
and  the  crowds  without  caught  up  the 
joyful  sounds,  and  re-echoed  them  with 
loud  hurrahs.  That  bell,  which  first  pro 
claimed  the  news  to  the  people  of  Phila 
delphia,  had  been  wrought  in  London 
twenty-three  years  before,  and  upon  it 
prophetically  inscribed  these  words  from 
the  Bible  :  "  Proclaim  liberty  throughout 
all  the  land, unto  all  the  inhabitants  there 
of." 

Washington,  on  receiving  from  Con 
gress  the  "  Declaration,"  ordered  it  to  be 
proclaimed  before  all  the  army, 
accompanying  his  order  with  the 
expression  of  the  hope  "  that  this  impor 
tant  event  will  serve  as  a  fresh  incentive 
to  every  officer  and  soldier  to  act  with 
fidelity  and  courage,  as  knowing  that  now 
the  peace  and  safety  of  his  country  de 
pend,  under  God,  solely  on  the  success 
of  our  arms;  and  that  he  is  now  in  the 
service  of  a  state  possessed  of  sufficient 
power  to  reward  his  merit  and  advance 
him  to  the  highest  honors  of  a  free  coun- 
try." 

Washington,  accompanied  by  his  staff, 

was  present  himself  at  the  reading  of  the 

declaration  to  the  brigade  encamped  on 

the  common,  or  the  park,  as  it  is  now 

39 


July  9. 


called,  in  New  York.  The  ranks  wrere 
formed  into  a  hollow  square,  and  Wash 
ington  placed  himself  in  the  centre  on 
horseback,  while  one  of  his  aids  read  out 
with  a  full  voice  each  word  of  the  famous 
document.  The  soldiers,  and  people  gath 
ered  about,  shouted  at  the  conclusion 
with  great  spirit. 

Graydon,  who  added  to  his  other  arti 
ficial  accomplishments  that  of  showing  a 
genteel  contempt  for  a  sensation,  acknowl 
edges  that,  "  If  it  [the  declaration]  was 
not  embraced  writh  all  the  enthusiasm 
that  has  been  ascribed  to  the  event,  it 
was  at  least  hailed  with  acclamations,  as 
no  doubt  any  other  act  of  Congress,  not 
flagrantly  improper,  would  at  that  time 
have  been The  propriety  of  the  meas 
ure,"  he  adds,  "  had  been  little  canvassed 
among  us ;  and  perhaps  it  was  to  our  hon 
or  that  we  were  so  little  of  politicians. 
A  predilection  for  republicanism,  it  is 
true,  had  not  reached  the  army,  at  least 
the  Pennsylvania  line  [to  which  Graydon 
himself  belonged]  ;  but  as  an  attempt  to 
negotiate,  in  our  unorganized  situation, 
would  probably  have  divided  and  ruined 
us,  the  step  was  considered  wise,  although 
a  passage  of  the  Rubicon,  and  calculated 
to  close  the  door  to  accommodation.  Be 
ing  looked  upon  as  unavoidable,  if  resist 
ance  was  to  be  persisted  in,  it  was  ap 
proved  ;  and  produced  no  resignation 
among  the  officers  that  I  am  aware  of, 
except  that  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Wil 
liam  Allen.  He  called  at  our  camp,  on 
his  way  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  ap 
peared  somewhat  surprised  and  mortified 
that  his  example  had  no  followers." 

The  citizen-patriots  of  New  York  did 


306 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


not  receive  the  "  Declaration"  as  coolly 
as  Graydon's  comrades.  The  crowd,  af 
ter  hearing  the  document  read  on  the 
common,  rushed  tumultuously  to  the 
"  Bowling-Green,"  and  pulled  down  the 
equestrian  statue  of  King  George  III.. 
which  stood  there.  The  royal  effigy  wTas 
of  lead,  but  had  a  coating  of  gilt.  When 
it  was  torn  down,  it  was  broken  into 
pieces ;  and  a  faithful  annalist  records 
that  most  of  them  were  sent  to  Weath- 
ersfield,  in  Connecticut,  where  Governor 
Wolcott's  family  of  two  daughters  and  a 
son  patriotically  melted  them  into  "  forty- 
two  thousand  bullets."* 

Washington,  finding  that  some  of  his 
soldiers  had  taken  part  in  this  act,  which 
partook  too  much  of  a  riotous  character 
to  accord  with  his  views  of  discipline,  cen 
sured  his  men  in  the  order  of  the  day, 
and,  while  commending  the  newly-ap 
pointed  chaplain  to  their  reverential  re 
gard,  concluded  with  this  general  advice 
to  the  army  in  regard  to  their  conduct : 
"  The  blessing  and  protection  of  Heaven 
are  at  all  times  necessary,  but  especially 
so  in  times  of  public  distress  and  danger. 
The  general  hopes  and  trusts  that  every 
officer  and  rnon  will  endeavor  so  to  live 
and  act  as  becomes  a  Christian  soldier, 
defending  the  dearest  rights  and  liberties 
of  his  country." 

General  Howe  seems  to  have  been 
much  encouraged  on  his  arrival  at  Staten 
island,  by  the  cheering  aspect  and  liberal 
promises  of  his  tory  friends.  "  I  have  the 
satisfaction,"  he  writes  to  Lord  George 
Germain,  "  to  inform  your  lordship  that 

*  After  the  destruction  of  the  statue  of  George  III.,  he 
was  called  in  New  York,  says  Walpole,  "  the  late  king." 


there  is  great  reason  to  expect 

u  i    ^^-11, 

a  numerous  body  of  the  inhab 
itants  to  join  the  army  from  the  prov 
inces  of  New  York,  the  Jerseys,  and  Con 
necticut,  who  in  this  time  of  universal 
apprehension  only  wait  for  opportunities 
to  give  proofs  of  their  loyalty  and  zeal 
for  government.  Sixty  men  caine  over 
a  few  days  ago  with  a  few  arms  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Shrewsbury,  in  Jersey, 
who  are  all  desirous  to  serve ;  and  I  un 
derstand  there  are  five  hundred  more  in 
that  quarter  ready  to  follow  their  exam 
ple.  This  disposition  among  the  people 
makes  me  impatient  for  the  arrival  of 
Lord  Howe,  concluding  the  powers  with 
which  he  is  furnished  will  have  the  best 
effect  at  this  critical  time  ;  but  I  am  still 
of  the  opinion  that  peace  will  not  be  re 
stored  in  America  until  the  rebel  army 
is  defeated." 

The  provincial  Congress  of  New  York, 
having  changed  its  name,  in  accordance 
with  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  to 
that  of  the  "  Convention  of  the  Represen 
tatives  of  the  STATE  of  New  York,"  had 
appointed  a  secret  committee  to  sit  in 
the  city  and  counteract  the  machinations 
of  the  royalists,  upon  which  Howe  was  so 
confidently  relying.  Persons  of  known 
disaffection  and  enmity  to  the  cause  of 
America  were  thus  ferreted  out  and  sent 
away  to  the  jail  at  Litchfield,  Connecticut, 
and  elsewhere.  These  measures  forced 
such  men  as  the  Robertsons  and  Delan- 
ceys  to  join  the  enemy  openly,  and  com 
pelled  some  more  timid  partisans  either 
to  forego  all  active  hostility  or  to  give  in 
their  adhesion  to  the  American  cause. 

The  enemy's  force  continued  to  gather 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


COMMOTION  UP  THE  HUDSON. 


307 


July  12, 


daily.     On  the  llth  of  July,  Washington 

writes  :  "  General  Howe's  fleet  from  Hali 
fax  has  arrived,  in  number  about  one  hun 
dred  and  thirty  sail.  His  army  is  between 
nine  and  ten  thousand,  being  joined  by 
some  of  the  regiments  from  the  West  In 
dies,  and  having  fallen  in  with  part  of  the 
Highland  troops  in  his  passage.  He  has 
landed  his  men  on  Staten  island,  which 
they  mean  to  secure,  and  is  in  daily  ex 
pectation  of  the  arrival  of  Lord  Howe, 
with  one  hundred  and  fifty  ships,  and  a 
large  and  powerful  reinforcement.  This 
we  have  from  four  prisoners  who  fell  into 
our  hands,  and  some  deserters.  They 
add  that  nothing  will  be  attempted  until 
his  arrival." 

Next  day,  however,  the  enemy 
did  something,  which,  although 
trifling  in  itself,  produced  a  great  com 
motion.  Early  in  the  afternoon,  two  of 
the  British  ships-of-war,  the  Rose  and  the 
Phoenix  (one  of  forty  and  the  other  of 
twenty  guns),  with  three  tenders,  weighed 
anchor,  and  with  a  brisk  and  favorable 
breeze  sailed  up  the  North  river  with  the 
flood-tide.  The  American  batteries  along 
the  city  and  the  Jersey  shore,  and  the 
forts  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  kept  up 
a  heavy  and  incessant  cannonade,  which 
was  returned  by  the  ships  as  they  passed 
by,  but  without  much  effect  on  either 
side.  Even  Fort  Washington,  with  all 
its  formidable  preparation,  proved  of  no 
avail.  It  seems  to  have  been  so  placed, 
that  it  could  neither  do  nor  receive  an 
injury.  "We  were  too  high  for  their 
guns,"  says  an  officer  who  was  present, 
"  to  be  brought  to  bear  upon  us  with  any 
certainty,  though  one  ball  was  thrown 


into  the  fort.  Our  elevated  situation  was 
nearly  as  unfavorable  for  the  success  of 
our  fire  upon  them." 

The  men-of-war,  it  is  true,  had  been 
guarded  by  sand-bags  spread  over  the 
decks  and  raised  along  the  bulwarks,  so 
as  to  protect  them  against  the  American 
riflemen ;  while  they  glided  by  so  rapid 
ly,  with  the  wind  and  tide  in  their  favor, 
that  it  was  difficult  to  point  a  cannon  at 
them  with  precision.  Their  rigging,  how 
ever,  was  somewrhat  damaged,  and  several 
shots  touched  their  hulls.  Having  run 
the  gauntlet  of  all  the  batteries  and  forts, 
the  ships  finally  came  to  anchor  about 
forty  miles  up  the  river,  in  the  middle  of 
that  broad  part  of  the  Hudson  called  Ha- 
verstraw  bay,  where  they  were  out  of 
reach  of  any  shot  from  either  bank. 

Washington  expected  that  this  move 
ment  of  the  two  ships  would  be  immedi 
ately  followed  by  others,  with  the  view 
of  landing  and  seizing  the  passes  in  the 
Highlands.  He  accordingly  sent  an  ex 
press  at  once  to  Brigadier-General  George 
Clinton,  who  commanded  the  New-York 
militia  on  Hudson  river,  with  orders  to 
him  to  call  out  instantly  as  many  men 
as  he  could,  and  post  them  in  such  a  way 
as  to  prevent,  if  possible,  the  supposed 
object  of  the  enemy. 

Clinton,  however,  had  anticipated  these 
orders,  having  been  notified  of  the  ap 
proach  of  danger  by  a  signal-gun  from 
his  brother,  who,  as  colonel,  was  in  com 
mand  of  Fort  Constitution  below,  and  by 
the  exaggerated  reports  of  the  captains 
of  some  sloops  who  came  up  the  river 
with  the  story  that  New  York  was  at 
tacked.  They  had  seen  and  heard  the 


308 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


firing  in  the  distance  between  the  forts 
and  the  Rose  and  Phoenix,  and,  putting 
on  all  sail,  had  hastened  away  with  the 
alarming  intelligence  of  a  general  attack. 
Clinton  accordingly  had  ordered  out  three 
regiments  of  militia,  one  of  which  he  sta 
tioned  at  Fort  Constitution,  opposite  West 
Point ;  another  at  Fort  Montgomery  be 
low,  under  his  own  immediate  command  ; 
and  the  third  at  Newburg,  beyond  these 
points.  He  also  had  sent  word  to  the 
masters  of  all  the  river-craft  which  could 
be  reached,  to  bring  their  vessels  and  an 
chor  them  ofFFort  Montgomery,  that  they 
might  be  ready  to  stretch  across  the  nar 
rowest  part  of  the  Hudson  there,  as  a  bar 
rier,  and  to  be  set  fire  to  in  case  the  en 
emy's  ships  attempted  to  break  through 
them. 

The  Rose  and  Phoenix  were  not  imme 
diately  followed  by  any  other  ships,  and, 
having  anchored,  remained  quietly,  while 
their  boats  were  sent  out  daily  to  take 
soundings.  The  people,  however,  on  the 
Hudson,  fretted  greatly  at  their  presence, 
and  watched  every  opportunity  to  harass 
and  to  drive  them  from  the  river. 

Toward  evening,  o,n  the  same 
day  that  the  Rose  and  Phoenix 
sailed  up,  several  ships  arrived  from  sea 
and  entered  the  narrows.  One  of  these 
had  a  St.  George's  flag  flying  from  her 
foretopmast-head,  and  was  saluted  as  she 
came  in  with  full  volleys  from  the  vessels 
and  the  batteries  at  Staten  island.  This 
was  the  Eagle,  which  bore  the  admiral, 
Lord  Howe. 

RICHARD  (Earl)  HOWE  was  born  in  1725, 
and  entered  the  navy  as  a  midshipman 
at  the  age  of  fourteen.  By  merit,  aided 


July  12, 


by  a  powerful  patronage,  he  passed  rap 
idly  through  the  grades  of  lieutenant, 
captain,  and  rear-admiral ;  and  now,  on 
being  sent  to  America,  was  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  vice-admiral  of  the  blue.  On 
the  death  of  his  brother, Lord  Howe  (who 
fell  at  Ticonderoga  in  1 758), he  succeeded 
to  the  peerage.  The  admiral,  like  the 
general,  had  a  tall  and  well-proportioned 
figure,  but  his  face  was  dark  and  stern 
in  expression.  His  manners,  too,  were 
reserved,  and  he  was  thought  to  be  some 
what  haughty  in  disposition.  He  was  a 
brave  and  skilful  officer,  and,  unlike  the 
general,  active  and  indefatigable  in  busi 
ness. 

The  two  brothers  had  been  appointed 
by  Parliament  commissioners  for  resto 
ring  peace ;  and  accordingly,  as  soon  as 
Lord  Howre  arrived,  he  drew  up,  jointly 
with  the  general,  a  proclamation.  This 
document  promised  pardon  to  those  who, 
having  forsaken  their  allegiance  to  the 
crown  in  the  time  of  excitement  and  trou 
ble,  would  return  to  their  duty.  It  also 
offered  rewards  to  those  who  should  aid 
in  the  restoration  of  public  tranquillity. 
The  paper  was  then  sent  to  Franklin,  the 
colonial  governor  of  New  Jersey,  with  the 
request  to  circulate  it  as  freely  as  possi 
ble  among  the  people.  A  copy  was  ob 
tained  by  General  Mercer,  in  command 
of  the  flying  camp  at  Amboy,  and  for 
warded  by  him  to  Washington,  who  thus 
spoke  of  it  in  his  despatch  to  the  presi 
dent  of  Congress :  — 

"  When  the  letter  and  declaration,  from 

Lord  Howe  to  Mr.  Franklin  and 

July  22, 

the  other  late  governors,  come 

to   be   published,  I  should   suppose   the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MR.  WASHINGTON. 


warmest  advocate  for  dependence  on  the 
British  crown  must  be  silent,  and  be  con 
vinced,  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt, 
that  all  that  has  been  said  about  the  com 
missioners  was  illusory,  and  calculated  ex 
pressly  to  deceive  and  put  off  their  guard 
not  only  the  good  people  of  our  own  coun 
try,  but  those  of  the  English  nation  that 
were  averse  to  the  proceedings  of  the 
king  and  ministry." 

Lord  Howe  is  supposed  to  have  sin 
cerely  desired  peace,  and  greatly  to  have 
regretted  that  his  arrival  had  been  de 
layed  until  after  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence.  He  is  known  to  have  been 
early  interested  in  the  difficulties  between 
the  home  government  and  the  colonies ; 
and  it  is  related  that,  when  Franklin  was 
in  London,  he  was  invited  by  his  lord 
ship  to  dinner,  with  the  view  of  extort 
ing  from  him  some  information  in  refer 
ence  to  the  probable  measures  of  the 
American  leaders.  Lord  Howe  was  ably 
seconded  on  this  occasion  by  the  diplom 
acy  of  his  sister.  While  the  former  freely 
circulated  the  Madeira,  the  latter  brought 
to  play  upon  the  philosopher  all  the  en 
ticements  of  her  seductive  graces.  But 
Franklin's  sober  reason  wras  proof  against 
the  intoxication  of  either  the  one  or  the 
other;  and  the  domestic  conspiracy  of 
Lord  and  Miss  Howe  was  defeated  by 
the  strength  of  head  and  steadiness  of 
principle  of  the  American  patriot. 

On  the  second  day  of  Lord 
Howe's  arrival  in  the  bay,  about 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  word  was 
brought  to  Washington  that  a  flag  had 
come  up  from  his  lordship,  and  was  now 
detained  by  two  of  the  American  whale- 


July  14, 


boats  on  guard  a  few  miles  from  the  city. 
Washington  immediately  convened  such 
of  the  general  officers  as  were  not  upon 
other  duty,  and  asked  their  opinion  as  to 
whether  he  ought  to  receive  any  letter 
directed  to  him  as  a  private  gentleman. 
Finding  that  they  agreed  with  his  own 
view,  that  he  should  not,  he  sent  Colonel 
Reed  (his  former  secretary,  now  adjutant- 
general)  down  to  meet  the  flag,  and  to 
act  accordingly.  Reed  went  down  as  or 
dered  ;  and,  after  passing  the  usual  civili 
ties,  the  British  officer  informed  him  that 
he  had  a  letter  from  Lord  Howe  to  Mr. 
Washington,  which  he  showed,  with  the 
address,  "  To  George  Washington,  Esquire" 
Colonel  Reed  replied  that  there  was  no 
such  person  in  the  army,  and  that  a  let 
ter  intended  for  the  general  could  not  be 
received  under  such  a  direction. 

The  officer  expressed  great  concern, 
and,  stating  that  it  was  a  letter  rather  of 
a  civil  than  a  military  nature,  declared 
that  Lord  Howe  regretted  that  he  had 
not  arrived  sooner,  since  he  had  great 
powers.  The  anxiety  on  the  part  of  the 
officer  to  have  the  letter  received  was 
very  apparent,  although  he  disclaimed 
all  knowledge  of  its  contents.  Colonel 
Reed,  however,  had  received  positive  or 
ders,  and  accordingly  took  his  leave.  Al 
ter  the  two  had  separated  and  got  some 
distance  away  from  each  other,  the  officer 
with  the  flag  put  about  again  with  his 
boat,  and  asked  how  General — but,  catch 
ing  himself,  Mr.  Washington,  would  wish 
to  be  addressed.*  Colonel  Reed  answered 
that  the  general's  station  was  well  known, 
and  they  could  not  be  at  a  loss  how  to 

*  Irving. 


310 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


direct  to  him.  He  added,  moreover,  that 
a  proper  address  would  obviate  all  diffi 
culty  of  communication,  as  Lord  Howe 
himself  must  be  aware,  since  this  matter 
had  already  been  discussed  in  the  course 
of  the  previous  year. 

"  I  would  not,"  says  Washington,  com 
menting  upon  this  affair,  "  upon  any  oc 
casion  sacrifice  essentials  to  punctilio ; 
but  in  this  instance,  the  opinion  of  oth 
ers  concurring  with  my  own,  I  deemed 
it  a  duty  to  my  country  and  my  appoint 
ment  to  insist  upon  that  respect  which, 
in  any  other  than  a  public  view,  I  would 
willingly  have  waved."  Congress  showed 
its  approval  of  his  conduct  in  this  matter 
by  the  resolution  "  That  G  eneral  Washing 
ton,  in  refusing  to  receive  a  letter  said  to 
be  sent  from  Lord  Howe,  and  addressed 
to  '  George  Washington,  Esquire]  acted  with 
a  dignity  becoming  his  station." 

Notwithstanding  Lord  Howe's  want  of 
success,  his  brother  the  general  attempt 
ed  the  same  manoeuvre,  and  sent  a  flag- 
addressed  to  "  George  Washington,  Esquire" 
with  the  addition  of  "  etc.,  &c.,  &c"  It 
was,  of  course,  not  received.  A  few  days 
subsequently,  Ho  we  accordingly  hit  upon 
another  expedient.  He  sent  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Patterson,  the  British  adjutant- 
general,  with  a  flag. 

This  dignified  messenger  was 
met  with  the  usual  formalities, 
and,  as  he  was  sent  officially  by  General 
Howe  to  the  American  commander-in- 
chief,  was  by  the  order  of  Washington 
conducted  ashore  and  admitted  into  his 
presence.  The  usual  preliminary  compli 
ments  having  passed,  during  which  the 
British  colonel  addressed  Washington  by 


July  20, 


the  title  of  excellency,  as  he  did  through 
out  the  interview,  business  began. 

Colonel  Patterson  commenced  by  say 
ing  that  General  Howe  much  regretted 
the  difficulties  which  had  arisen  in  re 
spect  to  the  letter.  He  then  justified  the 
propriety  of  the  address,  on  the  ground 
that  it  was  usual  with  embassadors  and 
plenipotentiaries,  when  disputes  or  diffi 
culties  of  rank  arose.  The  colonel  then 
reminded  Washington  that  he  had,  du 
ring  the  previous  summer,  sent  a  letter 
to  General  Howe  with  the  address,  "  To 
the  Honorable  William  Hoive,  Esquire."  Lord 
Howe  and  General  Howe,  he  continued, 
did  not  mean  to  derogate  from  the  re 
spect  or  rank  of  General  Washington, 
whose  person  and  character  they  held  in 
the  highest  esteem ;  and,  as  for  the  ad 
dress  upon  the  letter,  the  "  &c.,  &c.,  &c.," 
implied  everything  which  ought  to  fol 
low.  The  colonel  here  produced  a  letter, 
which,  however,  he  did  not  directly  offer 
to  General  Washington,  but,  remarking 
that  it  was  the  same  as  had  been  already 
presented,  laid  it  upon  the  table,  where 
the  address,  "  To  George  Washington,  Es 
quire,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,"  could  be  readily  seen. 

Washington  declined  to  receive  it,  and 
remarked  that  a  communication  directed 
to  a  person  in  his  public  character  should 
have  some  indication  of  his  station,  other 
wise  it  would  appear  a  mere  private  let 
ter.  As  for  the  "  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,"  Washing 
ton  said  it  was  true  they  implied  every 
thing,  but  they  also  implied  anything. 
In  regard  to  the  letter  which  had  been 
addressed  to  General  Howe  without  men 
tion  of  his  rank,  that  had  been  sent,  Wash 
ington  exDlained,  in  answer  to  one  simi- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  MATTER  OF  TITLES. 


311 


larly  addressed  to  himself,  and  which  had 
only  been  received  because  the  officer  on 
duty  had  not  refused  it  when  first  pre 
sented.  Washington  now  having  firmly 
declared  that  he  should  decline  to  receive 
any  letter  directed  to  him  as  a  private 
person,  when  it  related  to  his  public  sta 
tion,  Colonel  Patterson  said  that  General 
Howe  would  not  urge  his  delicacy  fur 
ther,  and  repeated  his  assertion  that  no 
failure  of  respect  was  intended. 

Patterson  then,  saying  that  he  wrould 
endeavor  as  well  as  he  could  to  recollect 
General  Howe's  views,  briefly  gave  them, 
and  on  finishing  took  a  paper  out  of  his 
pocket,  and,  having  glanced  over  it  for  a 
moment,  remarked  that  he  had  expressed 
nearly  the  words.  A  conversation  now 
ensued  in  regard  to  the  treatment  of  pris 
oners;  and  finally  Colonel  Patterson  al 
luded  to  the  object  of  the  mission  of  Lord 
and  General  Howe,  stating  that  the  good 
ness  and  benevolence  of  the  king  had  in 
duced  him  to  appoint  these  two  gentle 
men  his  commissioners  to  accommodate 
the  unhappy  dispute  with  the  colonies ; 
that  they  had  great  powers,  and  would 
derive  the  greatest  pleasure  from  effect 
ing  an  accommodation ;  and  that  he  ( Colo 
nel  Patterson)  wished  to  have  his  visit 
considered  as  making  the  first  advance 
toward  this  object. 

Washington  replied  that  he  was  not 
vested  with  any  powers  on  this  subject 
by  those  from  whom  he  derived  his  au 
thority;  but,  from  what  had  appeared, 
Lord  and  General  Howe  were  only  to 
grant  pardons,  and  that  those  who  had 
committed  no  fault  wanted  no  pardon. 
"  We  are  only  defending,"  added  Wash 


ington,  "  what  we  deem  our  indisputable 
rights."  To  which  Colonel  Patterson  an 
swered,  "  That  would  open  a  very  wide 
field  for  argument." 

The  greatest  courtesy  prevailed  during 
the  conference,  and  at  its  close  Colonel 
Patterson  strongly  expressed  his  acknowl 
edgments  that  the  usual  practice  of  blind 
folding  had  been  dispensed  with  in  his 
case.  Washington  pressed  him  to  par 
take  of  a  collation  which  had  been  pro 
vided,  but  "  he  politely  declined,  alleging 
his  late  breakfast."  After  staying  a  few 
moments  to  be  introduced  to  the  general 
officers,  he  took  leave.  Colonel  Reed 
and  one  of  Washington's  aids-de-camp  ac 
companied  him  in  the  president's  barge 
to  his  own  boat,  which  awaited  him  some 
four  miles  below  the  city,  where  they 
separated  in  the  best  good  nature,  after  a 
lively  chat  during  their  short  fellowship. 

"  This  interview,"  wrote  General  Howe 
to  Lord  George  Germain,  "  was  more  po 
lite  than  interesting.  However,  it  in 
duced  me  to  change  my  superscription 
for  the  attainment  of  an  end  so  desirable  ; 
and  in  this  view  I  flatter  myself  it  will 
not  be  disapproved."  Washington  wras 
subsequently  always  addressed  by  the 
title  of  "  general."  Lord  Howe,  howrever, 
though  evidently  desirous  from  the  be 
ginning  of  being  courteous  in  this  par 
ticular,  hesitated  for  fear  of  disapproval 
on  the  part  of  the  British  ministry,  whose 
insolent  tyranny  hesitated  at  no  insult, 
however  gross.  An  interview  with  Lord 
Howe,  ten  days  after  the  visit  of  Colonel 
Patterson,  showed  that  his  lordship  was 
still  haggling  about  this  matter  of  titles. 

Colonel  Palfrey,  paymaster-general  of 


312 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


July  30, 


the  army,  was  sent,  together  with  anoth 
er  officer,  on  board  the  Eagle, 
Lord  Howe's  ship,  to  negotiate 
an  exchange  of  prisoners.  The  colonel 
gave  this  account  of  his  visit,  in  a  letter 
to  Congress :  "  We  were  treated  with  the 
utmost  politeness  and  civility  by  Lord 
Howe.  He  spoke  with  the  highest  re 
spect  of  General  Washington,  and  lament 
ed  the  nice  distinctions  which,  he  said, 
prevented  his  addressing  him  by  letter ; 
and  said  he  wished  to  convey  his  senti 
ments  to  him  in  any  mode  of  address 
that  might  prevent  his  being  blamed  by 
the  king  his  master. 

"  In  all  his  discourse  he  called  him  Gen 
eral  Washington,  and  frequently  said  the 
states  of  America.  He  said  the  Congress 
had  greatly  hurt  his  feelings  by  remind 
ing  him,  in  one  of  their  publications,  of 
the  esteem  and  respect  they  had  for  the 
memory  of  his  brother,  and  drawing  by 
manifest  inference  a  contrast  between 
the  survivors  and  the  deceased ;  that  no 


man  could  feel  more  sensibly  the  respect 
shown  to  their  family  than  his  lordship 
and  the  general ;  that  they  should  always 
esteem  America  for  it,  and  particularly 
Massachusetts  Bay ;  and  added, 'I  hope 
America  will  one  day  or  other  be  con 
vinced  that,  in  our  affection  for  that  coun 
try,  we  also  are  HOWES.'  His  lordship, 
when  speaking  of  his  brother,  was  great 
ly  affected,  and  I  could  perceive  a  tear 
standing  in  his  eye. 

"  He  hinted  an  inclination  that  I  should 
take  the  letter  to  General  Washington, 
with  the  addition  of  l  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,'  which 
he  said  wrould  imply  everything  that  we 
could  desire,  and  at  the  same  time  save 
him  from  censure.  I  gave  him  to  under 
stand  that,  as  it  had  been  before  refused 
under  the  same  circumstances,!  could  not 
with  propriety  receive  it,  especially  as  it 
was  against  the  express  direction  of  Con 
gress.  When  we  parted,  he  desired  his 
compliments  to  General  Washington.":i: 
This  closed  the  chapter  of  "  &c.,  &c.,  &c." 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

The  Phoenix  and  Rose  up  the  Hudson. — The  Inefficacy  of  the  Forts. — A  Chain  put  across  the  River. — Anderson's  Firc- 
Sliips. — Old  Put's  Pet  Project. — Chevaux-de-Frise,  Chains,  Booms,  &c. — The  "American  Turtle." — Washington 
rejoices  over  the  Victory  at  Charleston. — The  Ten  Thousand  British  on  Staten  Island. — Washington  determines  to 
remain  on  the  Defensive. — The  British  Thirty  Thousand  strong. — The  Americans  about  half  the  Number. — The  Fire- 
Galleys  put  in  Operation  on  the  Hudson. — The  Rose  and  Phoenix  forced  to  shift  their  Quarters. — The  Fate  of  Ander 
son,  the  American  Turtle,  £c. 


1776, 


THE  Americans  were  greatly  dis 
turbed  by  those  two  British  ships, 
the  Phcenix  and  Rose,  quietly  lying  at 
their  anchors  up  the  Hudson.  There  they 
were,  only  forty  miles  above  New  York, 


cutting  off  all  communication  by  water 
between  the  city  and  Albany,  and  be 
tween  Washington's  army  and  that  of 
Schuyler  upon  the  lakes.  It  was  true 

*  Sparks's  Life  of  Washington. 


REVOLUTIONARY. 


ANDERSON'S  PROJECT. 


313 


they  were  watched  so  closely  by  Clinton 
and  his  militiamen  stationed  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,  that  they  were  prevented 
from  making  a  landing,  or  from  having 
communication  with  the  tories  who,  with 
"  the  most  diabolical  dispositions  and  in 
tentions,"  abounded  in  those  quarters. 

Washington  was  aware  of  the  ineffica- 
cy  of  the  American  forts ;  and  when  the 
two  ships  ran  by  them,  it  exhibited  a 
proof,  he  says, "  of  what  I  had  long  most 
religiously  believed,  and  that  is,  that  a 
vessel  with  a  brisk  wind  and  strong  tide 
can  not,  unless  by  a  chance  shot,  be 
stopped  by  a  battery,  unless  you  can 
place  some  obstruction  in  the  water  to 
impede  her  motion  within  reach  of  your 
guns." 

The  ingenuity  of  all  was  now  being 
exercised  to  destroy  or  drive  away  these 
impudent  intruders.  Clinton  was  busy 
above,  and  particularly  active  when  he 
discovered  that  the  ships  had  one  night 
moved  still  farther  up  the  river,  and  an 
chored  within  six  miles  of  Fort  Montgom 
ery,  where  he  himself  was  stationed.  He 
was  anxious  lest  they  might "  take  advan 
tage  of  a  dark  night  and  slip  by  him  in 
the  deep  shadows  of  the  mountains."  He 
accordingly  determined  to  be  on  the  alert. 
Guards  were  sent  below, and  preparations 
made  with  combustibles  to  light  alarm- 
fires,  so  soon  as  the  ships  should  move. 
Fire-rafts  were  constructed  atPoughkeep- 
sie,  and  sloops  filled  with  inflammable  ma 
terials  of  all  kinds,  and  kept  ready  to  be 
lashed  together  and  sent  down  against 
the  Rose  and  Phoenix ;  while  an  iron 
chain  was  forged,  to  stretch  across  from 
Fort  Montgomery  to  Anthony's  Nose,  in 
40 


order  to  put  a  stop  to  their  progress 
should  they  attempt  to  sail  up. 

Washington,  too,  was  vexing  himself 
with  all  sorts  of  contrivances  to  do  some 
thing  eifective  from  below  against  the 
audacious  tars.  Governor  Trurnbull,  of 
Connecticut,  had  sent  him  two  row-gal 
leys,  fitted  out  by  the  whalemen  of  New 
London,  and  promised  him  a  third  ;  while 
Cooke,  the  governor  of  Rhode  Island,  had 
been  urged  to  do  something  with  the  nau 
tical  resources  of  his  province  in  the  emer 
gency.  One  "  Mr.  Anderson"  had  been 
received  into  the  confidence  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief,  to  whom  he  had  been  es 
pecially  commended  by  the  president  of 
Congress.  He  had  laid  before  that  body 
a  plan  for  the  destruction  of  the  British 
fleet  in  the  harbor  of  New  York,  which 
had  been  received  with  such  favor,  that 
he  was  sent  to  Washington,  with  the  re 
quest  that  he  would  facilitate  his  pro 
posed  operations.  Anderson  himself  was 
so  sanguine,  that  he  declared  he  was  wil 
ling  to  risk  his  life  in  the  experiment. 
He  was  confirmed  in  his  self-confidence 
by  a  previous  trial  of  his  plan  against  the 
British  vessels  off  Quebec,  which  would 
have  succeeded,  as  he  believed,  "  had  it 
not  been  defeated  by  the  accident  of  his 
being  burnt  himself"  instead  of  the  ships, 
"  and  by  the  enemy's  getting  intelligence 
of  his  plan  and  taking  measures  to  coun 
teract  it."  He  was  now  at  work 
under  the  eye  of  Washington, 
who  writes  that  "  the  fire-ships  are  going 
on  under  Mr.  Anderson's  direction,  but 
rather  slowly." 

Anderson  himself,  with  the  usual  en 
thusiasm  of  projectors,  gives  a  more  en- 


July  27, 


314 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


July  31, 


couraging  account  of  his  progress.  "I 
have  been,"  he  writes  to  the  president  of 
Congress,  "for  some  time  past 
very  assiduous  in  the  prepara 
tion  of  fire-ships.  Two  are  already  com 
plete,  and  hauled  off  into  the  stream;  two 
more  will  be  off  to-morrow,  and  the  resi 
due  in  a  very  short  time.  In  my  next, 
I  hope  to  give  you  a  particular  account 
of  a  general  conflagration,  as  everything 
in  my  power  shall  be  exerted  for  the  de 
molition  of  the  enemy's  fleet.  I  expect 
to  take  an  active  part,  and  be  an  instru 
ment  for  that  purpose.  I  am  determined 
(God  willing)  to  make  a  conspicuous  fig 
ure  among  them,  by  being  ( a  burning 
and  a  shining  light,'  and  thereby  serve 
my  country,  and  have  the  honor  of  meet 
ing  the  approbation  of  Congress." 

"  I  am  preparing,"  writes  Washington, 
"  some  obstructions  for  the  channel  near 
ly  opposite  the  works  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  island."  And  a  few  days  later  he 
says :  "  The  hulks  and  three  chevmix-de- 
frise,  that  had  been  preparing  to  obstruct 
the  channel,  have  got  up  to  the  place 
they  are  intended  for,  and  will  be  sunk 
as  soon  as  possible."  This  contrivance 
was  due  to  the  Yankee  ingenuity  of  "  Old 
Put,"  who  was  as  full  of  enthusiasm  for 
his  pet  project  as  Anderson,  whose  darling 
invention,  it  would  seem  from  the  follow 
ing  letter,  that  Putnam  had  adopted  with 
all  the  affection  as  if  it  had  been  his  own 
offspring :  — 

"  The  enemy's  fleet,"  he  writes 
to  General  Gates,  "  now  lies  in 
the  bay  very  safe,  close  under  Staten  isl 
and.  Their  troops  possess  no  land  here 
but  the  island.  Is  it  not  very  strange 


July  26, 


that  these  invincible  troops,  who  were  to 
destroy  and  lay  waste  all  this  country 
with  their  fleets  and  army,  are  so  fond 
of  islands  and  peninsulas,  and  dare  not 
put  their  feet  on  the  main  ?  But  I  hope, 
by  the  blessing  of  God  and  good  friends, 
we  shall  pay  them  a  visit  on  their  island. 
For  that  end  we  are  preparing  fourteen 
fire-ships  to  go  into  their  fleet,  some  of 
wrhich  are  ready  charged  and  fitted  to 
sail,  and  I  hope  soon  to  have  them  all 
fixed. 

"  We  are  preparing  chevaux-dc-frise,  at 
which  we  make  great  despatch  by  the 
help  of  ships,  which  are  to  be  sunk ;  a 
scheme  of  mine,  which  you  may  be  as 
sured  is  very  simple,  a  plan  of  which  1 
send  you.  The  two  ships'  sterns  lie  tow 
ard  each  other,  about  seventy  feet  apart. 
Three  large  logs,  which  reach  from  ship 
to  ship,  are  fastened  to  them.  The  two 
ships  and  logs  stop  the  river  two  hundred 
and  eighty  feet.  The  ships  are  to  be 
sunk,  and,  when  hauled  down  on  one 
side,  the  picks  will  be  raised  to  a  proper 
height,  and  they  must  inevitably  stop  the 
river  if  the  enemy  will  let  us  sink  them." 

Nor  was  this  the  last  of  the  projects. 
A  mechanician  of  Connecticut,  of  the 
name  of  Bushnell,  .had  invented  a  boat, 
so  contrived  as  to  be  rowed  and  steered, 
and  raised  and  sunk  under  water,  at  the 
will  of  the  operator  within.  To  a  part 
of  this  submarine  craft  was  attached  a 
moveable  magazine  of  powder,  which  was 
to  be  exploded  by  means  of  a  clocldike 
piece  of  mechanism.  It  was  proposed  to 
get  a  bold  navigator  to  start  with  this 
machine,  dive  down  into  the  bay,  and 
bring  up  under  an  enemy's  vessel ;  and 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J 


THE  "AMERICAN  TURTLE." 


315 


then,  detaching  the  magazine,  and  boring 
through  "the  ship's  copper,  to  fasten  it 
like  a  barnacle  to  the  bottom.  This  be 
ing  done,  the  magazine  was  to  be  wound 
up,  and  its  going  off  so  timed,  that  the 
adventurous  submarine  navigator  might 
have  an  opportunity  of  making  good  prog 
ress  homeward  bound  when  the  "Ameri 
can  Turtle,"  as  the  machine  was  called, 
should  begin  its  infernal  operations. 

"  Old  Put"  likewise  took  kindly  to  the 
"American  Turtle."  "  Major-General  Put- 
nam,"  says  Thacher,  "  was  decidedly  of 
opinion  that  its  operations  might  be  at 
tended  with  the  desired  success ;  accord 
ingly,  he  encouraged  the  inventor,  and 
resolved  to  be  himself  a  spectator  of  the 
experiment  on  the  British  shipping  in 
New- York  harbor."  While  these  schemes 
of  destruction  were  plotting,  an  attempt 
was  made  against  the  enemy,  according 
to  the  principles  of  more  regular  warfare. 

Ship  after  ship  continued  to  add  its 
strength  to  the  formidable  fleet  in  the 
bay.  Crowded  transports  had  come  and 
landed  their  thousands ;  and  now  came 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  Earl  Corn- 
wallis,  after  their  defeat  before 
Charleston.  Washington,  cheered  by  the 
intelligence  which  he  had  received  some 
few  days  before  the  arrival  of  the  British 
from  the  South,  of  the  American  success, 
concludes  his  letter  full  of  anxious  busi 
ness,  addressed  to  Schuyler,  with  the  un 
usually  lively  remark  for  the  sedate  com- 
mander-in-chief :  "Sir  Peter  Parker  and 
his  fleet  got  a  severe  drubbing  in  an  at 
tack  made  upon  our  works  on  Sullivan's 
island." 

To  his  army  Washington  announces 


the  southern  victory  with  a  decorous 
gravity,  and  makes  it  an  occasion  for  the 
encouragement  of  the  martial  spirit  and 
patriotic  emulation  of  his  soldiers  :  "  The 
general  has  great  pleasure,"  are  the  words 
of  the  order  of  the  day,  "  in  communica 
ting  to  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  this 
army  the  signal  success  of  the  American 
arms,  under  General  Lee,  in  South  Caro 
lina.  This  glorious  example  of  our  troops, 
under  the  like  circumstances  with  us,  the 
general  hopes,  will  animate  every  officer 
and  soldier  to  imitate  and  even  outdo 
them,  when  the  enemy  shall  make  the 
same  attempt  on  us.  With  such  a  bright 
example  before  us  of  what  can  be  done 
by  brave  and  spirited  men  fighting  in  de 
fence  of  their  country,  we  shall  be  loaded 
with  a  double  share  of  shame  and  infamy 
if  we  do  not  acquit  ourselves  with  cour 
age,  or  a  determined  resolution  to  con 
quer  or  die." 

Washington  had  but  little  hope  of  act 
ing  offensively  with  advantage  against  the 
enemy.  The  British  had  a  much  supe 
rior  army  in  numbers,  discipline,  and  con 
dition.  General  Howe  had  already  land 
ed  ten  thousand  troops  on  Staten  island ; 
and  his  army,  with  those  afloat  in  the 
transports  in  the  bay,  and  those  hourly 
expected,  would  amount  soon,  it  was  sup 
posed,  to  twenty-five  thousand  men  all 
told.  The  Americans  could  only  count 
on  about  ten  thousand  men  fit  for  duty ; 
while  the  whole  of  Washington's  army, 
including  the  sick  and  others,  did  not 
number  much  more  than  seventeen  thou 
sand.  "  Our  situation  at  present,"  says 
Washington,  "  both  in  regard  to  men  and 
other  matters,  is  such  as  not  to  make  it 


316 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


advisable  to  attempt  anything  against 
them,  surrounded  as  they  are  by  water, 
and  covered  with  ships,  lest  a  miscarriage 
should  be  productive  of  unhappy  and  fa 
tal  consequences.  It  is  provoking,  nev 
ertheless,  to  have  them  so  near,  without 
being  able  to  give  them  any  disturbance." 

There  was  little  to  be  done  but  to  re 
main  on  the  defensive,  and  await  the  op 
erations  of  the  enemy.  Washington,  how 
ever,  was  not  much  more  sanguine  of  his 
means  of  defence  than  of  his  powers  of 
offence.  "What  kind  of  opposition  we 
shall  be  able  to  make,"  he  says,  "  time 
only  can  show.  I  can  only  say  that  the 
men  appear  to  be  in  good  spirits,  and,  if 
they  will  stand  by  me,  the  place  shall  not 
be  carried  without  some  loss,  notwith 
standing  we  are  not  yet  in  such  a  pos 
ture  of  defence  as  I  could  wish." 

Washington,  nevertheless,  determined 
to  make  "  some  efforts  to  annoy  the  en 
emy,"  but  not  to  put  "  too  much  to  haz 
ard,  or  in  any  manner  to  risk."  It  was 
accordingly  proposed  to  begin  at  Staten 
island.  It  was  found  "impracticable  to 
do  anything  upon  a  large  scale,"  and  it 
was  therefore  resolved  merely  to  make 
an  humble  attempt  from  the  Jersey  shore. 
Major  Knowlton,  who  was  stationed  at 
Bergen,  New  Jersey,  and  General  Mercer, 
in  command  of  the  flying  camp  at  Ainboy, 
were  directed  to  concoct  a  plan  and  carry 
it  into  execution.  These  two  according 
ly  got  ready  a  small  force  and  some  boats, 
and,  marching  down  to  the  shore  in  the 
evening,  prepared  to  embark  when  it 
should  become  sufficiently  dark.  The 
night,  however,  proved  so  stormy,  and 
the  waters  of  the  "Kill"  were  in  such  a 


state  of  agitation,  that  it  was  thought  ad 
visable  to  postpone  the  enterprise.  On 
a  subsequent  occasion  it  was  proposed  to 
make  another  attempt,  and  a  formidable 
force  of  nearly  four  thousand  men  was 
ordered  out  for  the  purpose  ;  but  it  was 
found  to  be  impossible  to  procure  boats 
enough  to  carry  more  than  half  of  the 
troops  across  to  the  island.  All  such  at> 
tempts  were  therefore  abandoned,  and 
the  attention  of  the  whole  army  was  now 
being  concentrated  upon  the  probable 
movement  of  the  enemy. 

Two  deserters  having  come  in,  are  ta 
ken  to  headquarters,  and  from 
them  Washington  learns  "  that 
General  Clinton  and  Lord  Cornwalli; , 
with  the  whole  southern  army,  have  ar 
rived  on  Staten  island  from  South  Caro 
lina,  in  number  about  three  or  four  thou 
sand  ;  that  the  fleet  which  carne  in  a  few 
days  since,  are  the  Hessians  and  Scotch 
Highlanders,  part  of  twelve  thousand  who 
were  left  off  Newfoundland,  in  the  whole 
making  about  thirty  thousand  men  ;  and 
that  it  is  said  by  the  officers  of  the  army 
and  navy,  they  are  to  attack  New  York 
and  Long  island  in  the  course  of  a  week." 

"  When,"  says  Washington  to  Governor 
Trumbull,  of  Connecticut, "  I  consider  the 
weakness  of  our  army  by  sickness,  the 
great  extent  of  ground  we  have  to  de 
fend, and  the  amazing  slowness  with  which 
the  levies  come  forward,  I  think  it  is  ab 
solutely  necessary  that  the  neighboring 
militia  should  be  immediately  sent  to  our 
assistance." 

Washington's  anxiety  may  be  inferred 
from  what  he  adds  in  the  same  letter: 
"The  disgrace  of  the  British  arms  to  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ATTACK  ON  THE  ROSE  AND  PHCENIX. 


317 


southward,  and  the  season  being  far  ad 
vanced,  will  make  them  exert  every  nerve 
against  us  in  this  quarter.  To  trust  alto 
gether  in  the  justice  of  our  cause,  without 
our  own  utmost  exertions,  would  be  tempt- 
ing  Providence  ;  and,  that  you  may  judge 
of  our  situation,  I  give  you  the  present 
state  of  our  army.  (Present  fit  for  duty, 
10,514  ;  sick  present,  3,039  ;  sick  absent, 
629;  on  command,  2,946;  on  furlough, 
97 :  total,  17,225.)  By  this  you  will  see 
we  are  to  oppose  an  army  of  thirty  thou 
sand  experienced  veterans  with  about  one 
third  the  number  of  raw  troops,  and  these 
scattered  some  fifteen  miles  apart." 

There  was  now  an  opportunity  of  test 
ing  the  various  means  of  mischief  so  in 
geniously  devised  against  the  Rose  and 
Phoenix.  Six  of  the  row-galleys  were 
soon  got  ready,  and,  being  sent  up  the 
river,  were  manned  by  crews  of  doughty 
fresh-water  men,  principally  belonging  to 
Tarrytown,  and  commanded  by  Colonel 
Tupper.  This  little  fle*et  boldly  pushed 
out  into  the  "  Tappan  sea,"  and  began  an 
attack  upon  the  two  British  cruisers.  The 
fight  was  gallantly  maintained  for  nearly 
two  hours,  in  the  course  of  which  the  big 
ships  were  repeatedly  hulled ;  but  the 
little  fleet,  being  badly  damaged  in  re 
turn,  was  finally  obliged  to  "  haul  off." 
"  Never,"  says  a  writer  quoted  by  Irving, 
"  did  men  behave  with  more  firm,  deter 
mined  spirit,  than  our  little  crews.  One 
of  our  tars,  being  mortally  wounded,  cried 
to  his  companions  :  '  I  am  a  dying  man  ; 
revenge  my  blood,  my  boys,  and  carry 
me  alongside  my  gun,  that  I  may  die 
there.'  We  were  so  preserved  by  a  gra 
cious  Providence,  that  in  all  our  galleys 


we  had  but  two  men  killed  and  fourteen 
wounded,  two  of  which  are  thought  dan 
gerous.  We  hope  to  have  another  brush 
with  these  pirates  before  they  leave  our 
river;  which  God  prosper." 

The  fire-ships,  too,  were  brought  into 
play,  and  not  without  effect.  Two  of 
them  were  sent  up  the  river,  in 
order  to  set  fire  to  the  British 
vessels.  One  got  alongside  of  the  Phce- 
nex  and  grappled  with  her  for  some  min 
utes,  but  she  succeeded  in  clearing  her 
self.  The  other  made  an  attempt  upon 
the  Rose,  but,  failing  to  reach  her,  fell 
afoul  of  one  of  the  tenders,  and  soon  had 
her  in  a  blaze.  The  crews  behaved  with 
great  resolution  and  intrepidity ;  and  one 
of  the  captains  stuck  so  long  to  his  fire- 
ship,  that  he  was  finally  obliged  to  make 
his  escape  by  plunging  into  the  water 
and  swimming  for  his  life. 

Next  morning  the  Rose-  and  Phoenix, 
evidently  very  much  discomposed  by  the 
dangerous  encounter  of  the  day  before, 
made  ready  to  shift  their  quarters.  While 
the  ships  were  weighing  anchor,  a  bold 
militia  lieutenant  and  two  men  pushed 
off  in  a  boat  from  the  shore,  and  towed 
in  the  hulk  of  the  burnt  tender,  in  spite 
of  the  enemy's  guns,  which  kept  up  a 
brisk  fire.  The  Phoenix  and  Rose,  now 
taking  advantage  of  a  fresh  and  fair  wind 
and  an  ebbing  tide,  hoisted  all  sail  and 
hurried  away.after  a  sojourn  of  five  weeks. 
The  American  riflemen  along  the  banks 
of  the  river  were  on  the  alert,  and  did  not 
fail  to  shoot  with  their  usual  skill  at  the 
flying  vessels ;  but  most  of  the  men  were 
kept  so  close  below,  and  those  on  dutv 
upon  deck  were  so  well  guarded  by  the 


318 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


thick  ramparts  of  sandbags,  that  the  rifles 
failed  to  do  much  execution.  The  forts, 
too,  were  busy,  and  their  cannon  were  so 
well  pointed,  that  the  Phoenix  was  three 
times  hulled  and  a  tender  once  by  the 
shots  from  Fort  Washington ;  while  the 
Rose  did  not  escape  without  a  ball  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  They 
finally  succeeded  in  passing  without  much 
damage,  and  were  not  stopped  even  by 
the  chevaux-de-frise  upon  which  "  Old  Pat" 
had  expended  so  much  ingenuity  and  la 
bor,  and  so  greatly  calculated.  By  some 
oversight  or  other,  his  famous  obstruc 
tion  had  not  been  completed,  and  the 
vessels  passed  through  the  opening  left 
unclosed. 

Of  Anderson's  project  and  extensive 
preparations  nothing  more  was  heard ; 
and  he  failed  to  prove  "a  burning  and  a 
shining  light"  of  as  mighty  an  illumina 
tion  and  conflagration  as  he  had  prom 
ised.  His  fellow-projector  Bushnell,  the 
Connecticut  mechanician,  also  disappoint 
ed  the  expectations  of  his  enthusiastic 
friends.  Though  it  is  somewhat  in  anti 
cipation  of  events,  it  may  be  as  well  to 
finish  here  the  history  of  these  famous 
projects,  by  recording  the  end  of  the 
"  American  Turtle."  It  was  determined 
to  make  the  first  experiment  upon  Lord 
Howe's  own  ship,  the  Eagle,  of  sixty-four 
guns.  Accordingly,  the  machine  was  got 
ready,  and  a  night  appointed.  A  number 
of  officers  collected  together  on  the  wharf 
at  Whitehall,  among  whom  General  Put 
nam,  as  the  chief  patron  of  the  scheme, 
was  in  a  high  state  of  active  enthusiasm 
on  the  occasion.  At  the  very  beginning, 
however,  there  was  a  serious  disappoint 


ment.  Bushnell's  brother,  having  been 
well  drilled  for  the  purpose,  was  to  navi 
gate  the  machine;  but  unfortunately,  just 
as  he  was  about  to  make  his  adventurous 
voyage,  he  was  suddenly  taken  ill. 

"  Old  Put,"  however,  was  not  to  be  thus 
put  off;  so  he  selected  a  sergeant  out  of 
his  own  Connecticut  regiment,  in  whose 
native  ingenuity  he  had  naturally  great 
faith,  and  appointed  him  to  the  command 
of  the  "American  Turtle."  The  sergeant 
readily  consented  to  take  charge,  and,  be 
ing  installed,  strove  at  once  to  make  him 
self  acquainted  with  the  mysteries  of  the 
machine.  All  being  ready,  the  "  Ameri 
can  Turtle"  was  started  on  its  adventu 
rous  voyage.  "  Old  Put"  and  his  fellow- 
officers,  having  bid  a  God-speed  to  the 
bold  sergeant,  remained  upon  the  wharf, 
anxiously  awaiting  the  result.  The  night 
passed  slowly,  the  day  began  to  break, 
and  still  the  great  ship  of  the  admiral 
reposed  quietly  in  her  smooth  berth  off 
Governor's  island  The  Eagle  was  evi 
dently  there  ;  but  the  "American  Turtle" 
— where  was  it  ?  The  waters  of  the  bay 
were  undisturbed ;  the  bell-watches  of 
the  ship  were  striking  with  their  usual 
regularity ;  the  island  had  still  the  appa 
rent  solidity  of  terra  firma  ;  and  the  sun 
appeared  to  be  rising  as  orderly  and  in 
as  good  time  as  ever ! 

At  last,  the  officers  from  the  wharf  at 
Whitehall  see  a  movement  on  Governor's 
island.  A  barge  filled  with  men  shoves 
off  and  rapidly  approaches  the  admiral's 
ship.  It  is  seen  suddenly  to  stop,  and 
then  to  return  in  great  haste,  as  if  fright 
ened  by  a  dark  object  which  can  now  be 
discerned  floating  quietly  upon  the  sur- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


FAILURE  OF  THE  "TURTLE." 


319 


face  of  the  bay.  In  a  moment  after,  a 
loud  noise  is  heard,  "like  thunder,"  and 
a  great  column  of  water  rushes  up  with 
the  force  of  a  waterspout  just  alongside 
the  Eagle.  Instantly  her  cables  are  cut, 
and  she  drifts  down  the  bay  with  the  eb 
bing  tide. 

The  adventurous  Connecticut  sergeant 
in  the  meantime  pops  up  from  below,  in 
his  submarine  boat ;  but,  finding  that  he 
is  within  range  of  the  sentries  on  Gov 
ernor's  island,  he  dives  down  again,  and 
does  not  make  his  appearance  upon  the 
surface  of  the  water  until  within  hailing 
distance  of  his  patron,  "  Old  Put,"  on  the 
Whitehall  wharf.  He  is  now  towed  in 
by  a  small  boat,  and  on  his  arrival  gives 


an  account  of  his  voyage.  It  seems  he 
had  reached  in  safety  the  place  whither 
he  was  bound,  under  the  bottom  of  the 
Eagle  ;  but,  finding  that  her  copper  was 
too  thick  to  penetrate,  for  the  purpose 
of  attaching  his  magazine  of  powder,  he 
had  visited  some  of  the  other  vessels : 
meeting,  however,  the  same  difficulty  un 
der  them,  he  finally  let  off  his  infernal 
machine,  which  produced,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  commotion  in  the  water  and  the 
agitation  in  the  fleet.  The  officers  on  the 
Eagle  reported  afterward  that  they  had 
been  aware  of  something  under  the  bot 
tom  of  their  ship,  but,  supposing  it  was 
nothing  but  a  floating  log,  they  took  no 
further  thought  of  the  matter. 


CHAPTEE    XXIV. 

General  Greene  on  the  Alert  at  Long  Island. — The  British  Plan  of  Attack — The  Tories  on  Long  Island  ferreted  out,  and 
dealt  with  vigorously. — Washington  touched  with  the  Sufferings  and  Dangers  of  the  People  of  New  York.— Rumors 
of  Peace. — Greene  falls  ill. — Putnam  succeeds  to  the  Command  on  Long  Island. — The  Enemy  cross,  land,  and  beat 
back  the  Provincial  Outposts. — The  Excitement  in  New  York. — Washington's  Preparations  for  the  Worst. — The  Pro 
vincial  Defences. — The  Struggle. 


1776, 


GENERAL  GREENE,  in  command  of 
the  American  troops  and  works  on 
Long  island,  was  on  the  alert,  watching 

every  movement  of  the  enemy. 
August  9,  ,  ..  ,  ,„  ,  .  * 

Now  he  sends  word  to  Washing 
ton,  at  New  York,  that  his  lookouts  had 
reported  that  on  the  previous  evening  a 
hundred  boats  were  seen  bringing  troops 
from  Staten  island  to  the  transports,  and 
that  three  of  the  men-of-war  had  moved 
down  toward  the  narrows.  A  general 
embarkation,  it  was  supposed,  had  begun, 


and  an  attack  might  be  hourly  expected. 
Deserters  came  in,  and  confirmed  these 
reports.  The  plans  of  the  Howes  were 
even  openly  discussed.  Ships  were  to 
sail  up  the  North  and  East  rivers,  and 
land  the  British  troops  on  both  sides  of 
the  island  of  New  York,  and,  forming  a 
junction,  to  hem  in  the  Americans  and 
hold  them  at  their  mercy. 

Washington  was  active,  and  hurried 
to  bring  all  his  resources  to  bear  on  the 
emergency.  He  writes  to  General  Mer- 


320 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[TART  IT. 


cer,  in  New  Jersey,  to  send  him  two  thou 
sand  men  from  his  flying  camp,  but  con 
fesses  that  he  knows  not  where  they  are 
to  come  from,  for,  according  to  the  "  gen 
eral's  last  return,  not  more  than  three  or 
four  hundred  of  the  new  levies  had  come 
Smallwood's  battalion  of  Maryland- 


m. 


ers  had,  however,  already  been  sent.  The 
convention  of  New  York  was  emphatical 
ly  urged  to  do  its  best,  and  responded  by 
a  call  upon  the  militia  of  the  state,  to 
join  the  encampment  above  Kingsbridge. 
The  summons  was  urgent,  and  all  were 
to  come,  however  accoutred,  it  being  or 
dered  "  that  each  man  who  shall  not  have 
arms  shall  bring  with  him  a  shovel,  spade, 
pickaxe,  or  a  scythe  straightened  and 
fixed  on  a  pole."  Even  all  the  disarmed 
and  disaffected,  from  sixteen  to  fifty  years 
of  age,  were  to  be  brought  forcibly  along, 
that  they  might  serve  as  fatigue-men  to 
the  respective  regiments. 

The  recreant  were  to  be  severely  dealt 
with ;  and  when,  for  example,  it  was  dis 
covered  that  the  inhabitants  of  Kings 
county,  on  Long  island,  did  not  intend 
to  oppose  the  enemy,  a  committee  was 
appointed  to  visit  them,  and,  if  they  found 
them  still  in  that  temper,  was  authorized 
to  disarm  and  secure  the  disaffected  per 
sons,  remove  or  destroy  the  stock  of  grain, 
and  if  they  should  judge  it  necessary,  to 
lay  the  whole  county  waste.  Some  of 
these  Long-islanders  did  not  appear  very 
formidable,  as  may  be  judged  from  the 
account  of  a  party  of  tories  by  General 
Greene,  who  was  actively  engaged  in  fer 
reting  them  out:  — 

"  I  have  examined  the  prisoners,"  says 
Greene,  "  and  find  them  to  be  a  poor  par 


cel  of  ignorant,  cowardly  fellows.  Two 
are  tailors  and  the  other  two  common  la 
borers.  They  candidly  confess  that  they 
set  off  with  an  intention  of  going  to  Stat- 
en  island  ;  not  with  any  intention  of  join 
ing  the  enemy,  but  only  to  get  out  of  the 
way  of  fighting  here.  There  has  been  a 
draft  amongst  the  militia  to  fill  the  new 
levies,  and  it  was  rumored  that  these  per 
sons  were  drawn.  It  was  also  reported 
that  they  were  to  go  to  the  northern  ar 
my,  and  that  almost  all  that  went  there 
either  died  or  were  killed.  The  prospect 
was  so  shocking  to  them,  and  to  their 
grandmothers  and  aunts,  that  I  believe 
they  were  persuaded  to  run  away.  Never 
did  I  see  fellows  more  frightened.  They 
wept  like  children,  and  were  exceedingly 
sorrowful.  I  beg  your  excellency's  direc 
tion  how  to  dispose  of  them.  They  do 
not  appear  to  be  acquainted  with  one 
public  matter.  They  have  been  ioryisli ; 
.1  fancy  not  from  principle,  but  from  its 
being  the  prevailing  sentiment  in  the 
country." 

The  tories,  however,  were  not  by  any 
means  all  of  this  character.  New  York 
was  full  of  men  of  wealth  and  position 
who  were  lending  their  aid  and  encour 
agement  to  the  enemy.  Washington  was 
very  solicitous  to  have  them  removed ; 
and  suspected  persons  were  being  daily 
arrested  and  sent  off  to  Connecticut,  where 
they  were  confided  to  the  safe  keeping  of 
the  patriotic  Governor  Trumbull.  "  There 
are  but  few  of  them,"  says  Washington, 
"who  will  not  defray  their  own  expenses," 
and  they  were  promised  every  indulgence 
consistent  with  the  public  safety.  They 
expressed  "  a  very  earnest  desire  to  be 


REV  OLUTIONARY.] 


ILLNESS  OF  GREENE. 


321 


permitted  to  choose  their  own  lodgings 
nnd  accommodations,"  to  which  Washing 
ton,  with  his  usual  gentlemanly  consider 
ation,  says,  "  I  see  no  objection." 

Washington's  good  heart  was  touched 
and  his  gentle  humanity  called  into  ex 
ercise  by  the  condition  of  the  helpless  in 
New  York.  He  writes  to  the  New-York 
convention :  "  When  I  consider  that  the 
city  of  New  York  will  in  all  human  prob 
ability  very  soon  be  the  scene  of  a  bloody 
conflict,  I  can  not  but  view  the  great  num 
bers  of  women,  children,  and  infirm  per 
sons  remaining  in  it,  with  the  most  mel 
ancholy  concern.  When  the  men-of-war 
passed  up  the  river,  the  shrieks  and  cries 
of  these  poor  creatures,  running  every 
way  with  their  children,  were  truly  dis 
tressing  ;  and  I  fear  they  will  have  an 
unhappy  effect  on  the  ears  and  minds  of 
our  young  and  inexperienced  soldiery. 
Can  no  method  be  devised  for  their  re 
moval  ?" 

General  Howe  still  lingered  in  his  pur 
pose,  and  had  so  long  delayed  his  attack, 
that  the  American  soldiers,  at  the  sugges 
tion  of  artful  emissaries  from  the  enemy, 
began  to  discuss  the  probability  of  peace. 
This  became  so  general,  that  Washington 
thought  it  necessary  to  allude  to  it  in  the 
order  of  the  day:  "The  general 
being  informed,  to  his  great  sur 
prise,  that  a  report  prevails,  and  is  indus 
triously  spread  far  and  wide,  that  Lord 
Howe  has  made  propositions  of  peace, 
calculated  by  designing  persons  probably 
to  lull  us  into  a  fatal  security ;  his  duty 
obliges  him  to  declare  that  no  such  offer 
has  been  made  by  Lord  Howe,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  from  the  best  intelligence 

41 


,  20. 


he  can  procure,  the  army  may  expect  an 
attack  as  soon  as  the  wind  and  tide  shall 
prove  favorable.  He  hopes,  therefore, 
that  every  man's  mind  and  arms  will  be 
prepared  for  action,  and,  when  called  to 
it,  show  our  enemies  and  the  whole  world 
that  freemen  contending  on  their  own 
land  are  superior  to  any  mercenaries." 

While  artful  gossips  were  distracting 
the  minds  of  his  soldiers  with  rumors  of 
peace,  the  American  chief  was  awaiting 
the  "  bloody  conflict"  which  he  knew  was 
inevitable.  He  expected  the  enemy  each 
moment.  The  signals  and  alarms  were 
ready:  two  cannon  were  to  be  discharged 
from  Fort  George,  at  the  lowest  part  of 
the  city;  a  flag  in  the  daytime,  or  a  light 
at  night,  was  to  be  raised  on  Bayard's 
hill,  and  three  guns  of  its  battery  fired 
quickly  but  distinctly,  to  signify  to  the 
troops  to  proceed  to  their  alarm-posts 
and  prepare  for  action ;  while  the  drums 
were  to  beat  to  arms  at  the  first  sound 
of  the  alarm-cannon. 

The  position  of  the  Americans  was  not 
very  encouraging,  and,  to  add  to  their 
disadvantages,  General  Greene  unfortu 
nately  fell  ill.  "I  am  very  sorry,"  he 
writes  to  Washington, "  to  be  un 
der  the  necessity  of  acquainting 
you  that  I  am  confined  to  my  bed  writh 
a  raging  fever.  The  critical  situation  of 
affairs  makes  me  the  more  anxious ;  but 
I  hope,  through  the  assistance  of  Provi 
dence,  to  be  able  to  ride,  before  the  pres 
ence  of  the  enemy  may  make  it  absolute 
ly  necessary."  This  was  a  serious  mis 
fortune,  as  Greene  had  the  command  on 
Long  island, and, having  directed  the  con 
struction  of  the  works  there,  and  thor- 


Aug,  15, 


822 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u. 


oughly  studied  the  topography,  he  alone 
probably  was  capable  of  a  judicious  de 
fence. 

Washington,  aware  of  Greene's  effi 
ciency,  anxiously  awaited  his  return  to 
duty,  and  hesitated  to  appoint  a  succes 
sor.  The  threatening  aspect  of  the  ene 
my,  however,  forbade  any  further  delay, 
and  the  chief  finally  ordered  Putnam  to 
the  general  command  on  Long  island, and 
General  Sullivan  to  the  special  charge  of 
the  troops  without  the  lines.  The  loss 
of  Greene  at  this  moment  was  especially 
felt,  as  it  appeared  probable  that  the  ene 
my  would  first  move  against  Long  island. 
Washington,  it  is  true,  knew  that  it  was 
impossible  to  prevent  Howe  from  land 
ing  on  the  island,  as  its  great  extent  af 
forded  "a  variety  of  places  favorable  for 
that  purpose,"  and  the  whole  of  the  Amer 
ican  works  were  "at  the  end  opposite  to 
the  city."  With  Greene  in  command,  he 
had  hopes,  no  doubt,  of  holding  the  posi 
tion  at  Brooklyn.  Now,  howev 
er,  he  seems  less  sanguine,  and 
says,  "  We  shall  attempt  to  harass  them 
as  much  as  possible,  which  will  be  all  that 
we  can  do." 

The  long-expected  movement  of  the 
enemy  at  last  began.  The  men-of-war 
had  been  anchored  at  the  narrows,  to  cov 
er  the  landing ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  day 
dawned,  the  tents  on  Staten  isl 
and  were  struck,  and  the  troops 
embarked.  Soldiers,  too,  principally  Hes 
sians,  crowded  the  decks  of  the  fleet  of 
transports,  and  thronged  over  the  ships' 
sides  into  the  boats.  Boat  followed  boat 
in  quick  succession,  and,  passing  rapidly 
to  the  shore,  and  making  for  Gravesend 


Aug.  20, 


Aug.  22, 


bay,  landed  the  men  near  Gravesend  and 
New  Utrecht,  on  Long  island.  As  the 
troops  debarked,  and  crowded  up  in  thou 
sands  toward  the  high  ground,  Colonel 
Hand  retired  with  his  riflemen  from  his 
post  on  the  hill,  burning  the  wheat  and 
destroying  whatever  else  might  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  British. 

"  Nine  thousand  men  have  landed  and 
approached  within  three  miles  of  the  Amer 
ican  lines,"  is  the  intelligence  brought  by 
a  hurried  messenger  to  Washington.  He 
immediately  sends  six  battalions  to  rein 
force  the  troops  at  Brooklyn,  and  is  ready 
to  detach  five  more  in  case  that  this  move 
ment  of  the  enemy  does  not  prove  a  feint, 
and  that  the  fleet  should  not  move  up 
with  the  remainder  of  the  army  and  make 
an  attack  upon  New  York.  While  in 
this  state  of  uncertainty  about  the  pre 
cise  manoeuvres  of  Howe,  Washington  is 
well  persuaded  that,  whatever  they  may 
be,  "a  little  time  will  produce  some  im 
portant  events I  hope,"  he  says,  K  they 

will  be  happy."  He  is  encouraged  some 
what  by  the  temper  of  his  men.  The 
reinforcement  sent  off  had  gone  in  "high 
spirits,"  and  "  the  whole  of  the  army,  that 
are  effective  and  capable  of  duty,  discov 
er  the  same  and  great  cheerfulness." 

Still  farther  to  encourage  the  good 
spirit  of  his  soldiers,  and  to  remind  them 
of  their  high  duties,  Washington  addres 
ses  them  in  these  ardent  words  : 
"The  enemy  have  now  landed 
on  Long  island,  and  the  hour  is  fast  ap 
proaching  on  which  the  honor  and  suc 
cess  of  this  army,  and  the  safety  of  our 
bleeding  country,  will  depend.  Remem 
ber,  officers  and  soldiers,  that  you  are 


Aug.  23, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  WORST. 


323 


freemen,  fighting  for  the  blessings  of  lib 
erty  ;  that  slavery  will  be  your  portion, 
and  that  of  your  posterity,  if  you  do  not 
acquit  yourselves  like  men.  Remember 
how  your  courage  and  spirit  have  been 
despised  and  traduced  by  your  cruel  in 
vaders  ;  though  they  have  found  by  dear 
experience  at  Boston,  Charleston,  and 
other  places,  what  a  few  brave  men,  con 
tending  in  their  own  land,  and  in  the  best 
of  causes,  can  do  against  hirelings  and 
mercenaries. 

"  Be  cool,  but  determined ;  do  not  fire 
at  a  distance,  but  wait  for  orders  from 
your  officers.  It  is  the  general's  express 
orders  that  if  any  man  attempt  to  skulk, 
lie  down,  or  retreat  without  orders,  he 
be  instantly  shot  down  as  an  example. 
He  hopes  no  such  will  be  found  in  this 
army ;  but  on  the  contrary,  that  every 
one  for  himself  resolving  to  conquer  or 
die,  and  trusting  in  the  smiles  of  Heaven 
upon  so  just  a  cause,  will  behave  with 
bravery  and  resolution.  Those  who  are 
distinguished  for  their  gallantry  and  good 
conduct,  may  depend  upon  being  honor 
ably  noticed,  and  suitably  rewarded  ;  and 
if  this  army  will  but  emulate  and  imitate 
their  brave  countrymen  in  other  parts  of 
America,  he  has  no  doubt  they  will,  by 
a  glorious  victory,  save  their  country,  and 
acquire  to  themselves  immortal  honor." 

The  inhabitants  of  New  York  were  in 
the  meantime  in  a  state  of  great  excite 
ment.  The  struggle  was  now  almost  at 
their  doors,  and  they  hourly,  as  they  lis 
tened  with  trembling  to  the  sound  of  the 
cannon's  roar,  expected  that  the  enemy 
would  be  in  their  midst.  To  the  certain 
horrors  of  the  sword  were  added  the  ter 


rors  of  fire,  which  they  feared  was  about 
to  desolate  their  homes.  It  was  rumored 
throughout  the  town  that,  in  case  the 
American  army  should  be  obliged  to  re 
treat,  the  city  would  be  burned.  The 
New- York  convention  wrote  with  anx 
ious  alarm  to  Washington,  who  replied  : 
"  I  can  assure  you,  gentlemen,  that  this 
report  is  not  founded  upon  the  least  au 
thority  from  me ;  on  the  contrary,  I  am 
so  sensible  of  the  value  of  such  a  city, 
and  the  consequences  of  its  destruction 
to  many  worthy  citizens  and  their  fami 
lies,  that  nothing  but  the  last  necessity, 
and  that  such  as  should  justify  me  to  the 
whole  world,  would  induce  me  to  give 
orders  for  that  purpose." 

Washington,  with  his  usual  caution  and 
systematic  regard  to  business,  had  placed 
all  the  papers  he  held  "  respecting  the  af 
fairs  of  the  state "  in  a  large  box,  nailed 
them  up,  and  committed  them  to  the  care 
of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Reed,  brother  of 
his  old  secretary  (now  adjutant-general), 
to  be  delivered  to  Congress.  "  I  hope," 
he  says,"  the  event  will  show  the  caution 
unnecessary;  but  yet  prudence  required 
that  it  should  be  done,  lest  by  any  acci 
dent  they  might  fall  into  their  hands." 
Mrs.  Washington  had  left  New  York  some 
time  previously,  and  was  now  on  her  way 
to  Mount  Vernon ;  while  the  rest  of  the 
wives  and  families  of  the  general  officers 
had  also  gone  for  security  to  their  homes, 
or  into  the  interior  of  the  country.  All 
were  evidently  preparing  for  the  worst. 

The  British  continued  to  land  on  Long 
island  without  opposition.     On 
the    first    day    eight    thousand 
came,  and  in  two  days  more  the  whole 


Aug.  22. 


324 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


invading  force,  amounting  to  ten  thou 
sand  men  and  forty  cannon,  reached  the 
ground.  Forming  as  they  arrived,  they 
marched  inland  for  several  miles  and  then 
encamped. 

General  Putnam  was  now  in  command 
of  the  American  troops  within  the  lines. 
The  works,  consisting  of  redoubts  and  in- 
trenchments,  stretched  from  Wallabout 
bay  on  the  north  to  Gowanus  on  the  south 
— across  the  neck  of  that  peninsula  over 
which  a  city  now  expands,  but  within 
which  at  that  time  there  were  only  a  few 
scattered  houses,  forming  the  village  of 
Brooklyn.  Opposite,  to  the  northwest, 
stands  New  York,  separated  from  Brook 
lyn  by  the  East  river,  nearly  a  mile  broad 
at  that  point.  To  the  west  lies  Govern 
or's  island,  where  the  Americans  had  erect 
ed  a  fort ;  and  at  Red  Hook,  on  the  south 
west  corner  of  the  peninsula,  was  a  strong 
battery. 

Beginning  about  two  and  a  half  miles 
to  the  east  of  the  American  lines,  there 
was  a  ridge  of  hills,  which,  covered  with 
thick  wood,  extended  for  three  miles  tow 
ard  Jamaica  on  the  northeast,  and  to  the 
narrows  for  the  same  distance  on  the 
southwest.  Through  this  natural  barrier 
across  the  island,  there  were  three  nar 
row  roads,  bounded  on  each  side  by  ac 
clivities.  One  passed  along  the  shore, 
from  Gowanus  to  the  narrows ;  a  second 
led  directly  east  to  Jamaica,  through  Bed 
ford  ;  and  the  third,  which  was  between 
the  two,  passed  through  the  hills  to  Flat- 
bush  on  the  south.  There  were,  however, 
by-paths  and  a  narrow  causeway,  which, 
clearing  the  ridge,  passed  well  to  the  east, 
and  by  which  the  passes  through  the  hills 


[PART  n. 

near  their  termination  on  the  Jamaica 
road  could  be  reached.  Two  of  these 
passes  through  the  hills  were  guarded  by 
outposts  of  eight  hundred  men  each,  and 
hastily-constructed  breastworks  of  trunks 
of  trees  and  brushwood  ;  the  third,  lead 
ing  through  Bedford,  seems  to  have  been 
overlooked.  Colonel  Miles  was,  however, 
posted  beyond  the  hills,  to  the  south  of 
Bedford,  to  watch  the  advance  of  the  en 
emy  in  that  quarter,  and  to  reconnoitre 
the  approaches  toward  the  Jamaica  road. 
The  chief  command  of  all  the  forces  out 
side  the  lines  was  intrusted  to  General 
Sullivan,  who  had  arrived  on  the  ground 
but  a  few  days  before  the  engagement, 
and  was  now  posted  in  person  with  a  con 
siderable  force,  defended  by  a  redoubt, 
within  the  mountain-pass  on  the  road  to 
Flatbush. 

General  Howe,  well  informed  by  his 
tory  confederates  on  Long  island,  had  ar 
ranged  his  plan  of  attack  with  skilful 
adaptation  to  the  nature  of  the  country. 
His  army  was  separated  into  three  divis 
ions  :  the  centre,  composed  chiefly  of  the 
Hessians,  under  De  Heister;  the  left  wing, 
of  a  small  force  of  British,  under  General 
Grant ;  and  the  right,  which  constituted 
the  chief  body  of  troops,  under  General 
Clinton,  aided  by  Earls  Cornwallis  and 
Percy,  and  accompanied  by  Howe  him 
self. 

Soon  after  landing,  the  army  began  its 
march.  Grant  led  his  force  with  slow 
deliberation  along  the  road  overlooking 
the  river,  and  leading  toward  the  right 
of  the  Americans.  De  Heister  marched 
his  centre  from  New  Utrecht  direct  to 
Flatbush ;  while  Howe  and  Clinton  hur- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  LONG  ISLAND. 


325 


ried  with  their  right,  composed  of  the 
main  force,  to  Flatlands,  and  thence  tow 
ard  the  Jamaica  road. 

Howe's  plan  was,  by  means  of  this  cir 
cuitous  route,  to  turn  the  left  of  the  Amer 
icans,  and  thus  taking  them  by  surprise, 
to  hem  them  in  between  his  right  com 
ing  from  behind,  and  the  left  and  centre 
advancing  in  front.  Grant  and  De  Heis- 
ter  were  accordingly  ordered  to  move  de 
liberately,  and  not  to  precipitate  an  at 
tack  until  signal-guns  from  Clinton,  who 
had  the  chief  active  command,  should  an 
nounce  to  them  the  success  of  his  ma 
noeuvre. 

De  Heister,  finding  the  central  pass 
occupied  by  Colonel  Hand  and  his  rifle 
men,  who  had  retired  there  upon  the 
landing  of  the  British  at  New  Utrecht, 
did  not  give  immediate  battle,  but  re 
tired,  in  accordance  with  his  orders,  to 
Flatbush,  where  he  posted  his  men  for 
the  night. 

Grant  in  the  meantime  advanced  along 
the  road  by  the  shore,  driving  before  him 
the  Americans,  who  fled  without  firing  a 
gun.  He  continues  his  march  unopposed 
during  the  night,  and  at  break  of  day  has 
got  through  the  pass  in  the  hills,  and  is 
marching  toward  the  American  lines  be 
yond.  General  Parsons,  in  command  of 
the  outpost,  now  succeeds  in  rallying 
some  of  the  fugitives,  and,  posting  them 
advantageously  on  a  hill,  checks  the  Brit 
ish  advance  within  about  two  miles  of  the 
American  camp,  until  the  arrival  of  Lord 
Stirling,  who  is  sent  by  Putnam  to  his  aid 
with  fifteen  hundred  men. 

Washington  meanwhile  crosses  over  to 
Brooklyn,  and  anxiously  strives  to  dis- 


Aug,  26. 


cover  the  manoeuvres  of  the  enerny.  He 
remains  the  whole  day  with  Put 
nam  in  his  camp,  and  counsels 
him  in  the  emergency.  He  observes  "  a 
scattering,  unmeaning,  and  wasteful  fire" 
from  his  undisciplined  soldiery,  and  he 
therefore  desires  Putnam  "  to  call  the 
colonels  and  commanding  officers  with 
out  loss  of  time"  before  him,  and  to  "let 
them  afterward  do  the  same  by  their  re 
spective  officers,  and  charge  them  in  ex 
press  and  positive  terms  to  stop  these  ir 
regularities,  as  they  value  the  good  of 
the  service,  their  own  honor,  and  the 
safety  of  the  army,  which,  under  God,  de 
pends  wholly  upon  the  good  order  and 
government  that  is  observed  in  it."  Prop 
er  lines  of  defence  were  ordered  to  be 
formed  around  the  encampment,  and 
works  raised  on  the  most  advantageous 
ground.  The  guards  were  to  be  strictly 
instructed  in  their  duties,  and  a  brigadier 
of  the  day  was  to  remain  constantly  up 
on  the  lines,  that  he  might  be  on  the  spot 
to  command  and  see  that  orders  were  ex 
ecuted.  Field-officers  were  also  to  be  ap 
pointed,  to  go  the  rounds  and  report  the 
situation  of  the  guards ;  and  no  person 
was  to  be  allowed  to  pass  beyond  with 
out  special  order  in  writing.  The  woods 
were  to  be  secured  by  abattis;  the  wood 
next  to  Red  Hook  was  to  be  well  attend 
ed  to,  and  some  of  "  the  most  disorderly 
riflemen"  posted  in  it;  while  the  militia 
who  "  have  seen  least  service"  were  to  be 
kept  within  the  interior  works,  and  the 
"best  men"  were  to  do  their  utmost  to 
prevent  the  approach  of  the  enemy. 

Foreseeing  a  general  attack,  Washing 
ton  returns  to  the  city  at  night,  full  of 


326 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


anxious  expectation  of  what  the  morrow 
may  bring  forth. 

Lord  Stirling  arrived  early  in 
Aug.  27,  ?,      .  / 

the  morning  with  his  fifteen  hun 
dred  men,  composed  of  the  reinforcements 
sent  by  Washington,  which  were  the  choi 
cest  of  his  troops.  These  were  Atlee's, 
Haslet's,  and  Small  wood's  regiments,  of 
Pennsylvania,  Delaware,  and  Maryland. 
Stirling  posted  most  of  his  force  on  the 
acclivity  of  what  is  now  called  "  Battle 
hill,"  in  Greenwood  ;  and  the  rest,  under 
Atlee,  in  a  neighboring  wood,  some  little 
distance  in  advance.  Grant  continued  to 
approach  until  he  reached  an  orchard, 
within  a  hundred  yards  or  so  of  Stirling, 
when  the  latter  briskly  attacked  him. 

The  right  wing  of  the  British,  having 
reached  Flatbush,  began  their  silent  march 
at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  General 
Clinton  led  the  van ;  then  came  Earl  Per 
cy,  with  the  artillery  and  dragoons ;  while 
Earl  Cornwallis,  accompanied  by  Howe, 
the  commander-in-chief,  followed  in  the 
rear  with  the  reserve.  Guided  by  a  tory 
Long-islander  through  by-paths  and  over 
a  causeway  raised  above  a  swamp,  the 


van  continues  to  march  without  disturb 
ance.  On  arriving  within  a  half-mile  of 
the  Jamaica  road,  Clinton  brings  his  men 
to  a  halt,  and  sends  out  a  reconnoitring- 
party.  They  soon  return,  bringing  back 
a  mounted  patrol  of  American  officers 
whom  they  have  captured,  and  the  word 
that  the  road  is  unoccupied.  Clinton  im 
mediately  sends  forward  a  body  of  light- 
infantry  to  secure  it,  and  following  at  the 
break  of  day  with  the  rest  of  his  force, 
takes  possession  of  the  hill  through  which 
the  road  passes. 

The  defence  of  this  pass  had  been  over 
looked  ;  and,  moreover,  the  outposts  had 
been  apparently  neglectful  in  watching 
and  reporting  in  time  the  progress  of 
Clinton's  force.  Colonel  Miles,  whose  du 
ty  it  was  to  guard  this  quarter,  was  not 
aware,  until  too  late,  of  the  enemy's  ap 
proach  ;  and  General  Sullivan  himself 
seems  to  have  been  remiss  in  not  sending 
out  fresh  patrols  when  he  found  those 
previously  sent  were  so  long  in  return 
ing,  as  they  well  might  be,  since  they 
had,  as  we  have  related,  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy. 


IIKVOLUTIONARY.] 


LORD  STIRLING  SURROUNDED. 


327 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

The  Struggle  continued. — Success  of  General  Howe's  Plan. — Assisted  by  his  Brother,  Lord  Howe. — The  Firmness  of 
the  Delawarcs  and  Marylanders. — Lord  Stirling  hemmed  in. — Tries  to  escape. — Is  forced  to  surrender. — De  Heister 
and  the  Hessians. — Sullivan  retreats. — The  Hessians  show  no  Mercy. — Sullivan  taken  Prisoner. — The  Loss  on  Both 
Sides. — The  Americans  withdraw  within  their  Line  of  Defence. — Sullivan  excuses  Himself. — The  Americans  rein 
forced. — The  Movement  of  the  British. — Washington  resolves  to  retreat. 


1776, 


CLINTON,  possessed  of  the  Jamaica 
road,  passed  rapidly  on  with  his  van 
through  the  pass  in  the  Bedford  hills. 
His  light-infantry  then  pushed  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  American  lines  ;  and  find 
ing  no  opposition  but  here  and  there  a 
small  post,  which  was  attacked  and  speed 
ily  forced,  they  continued  their  march. 
The  artillery  coming  up,  Clinton  ordered 
two  signal-guns  to  be  fired,  to  signify  to 
Grant  and  De  Heister  that  his  manoeuvre 
had  succeeded,  and  that  they  were  now 
to  begin  a  vigorous  attack.  The  design 
of  Howe  had  been  successful.  The  atten 
tion  of  the  Americans  had  been  diverted 
from  Clinton's  fatal  movement  on  their 
left  by  Grant's  leisurely  advance  on  the 
ric'iit.  Lord  Howe,  too,  had  aided  in  fur- 

D 

thering  the  deceit  by  bringing  up  some 
of  his  ships  from  the  narrows,  and  open 
ing  a  noisy  cannonade  upon  Governor's 
island  and  the  battery  at  Red  Hook.  Put 
nam  and  Sullivan  were  induced  to  believe 
that  the  chief  danger  was  on  the  right 
of  their  lines,  and  they  had  accordingly 
concentrated  all  their  force  in  that  direc 
tion. 

Grant  had  coquetted  for  several  hours 
\vith  Lord  Stirling  and  his  force:  now 
advancing  his  light  troops  within  a  hun 
dred  yards  or  so.  and  exchanging  fires 


with  the  American  riflemen,  then  order 
ing  them  back  to  his  main  body;  and, 
again,  commencing  a  desultory  cannon 
ade  with  his  two  fieldpieces,  and  thus  ap 
pearing  to  fear  a  general  engagement. 
Colonel  Haslet,  in  command  of  the  south 
ern  troops,  who  was  unconscious  of  the 
enemy's  purpose,  says :  "  The  Delawares 
and  Marylanders  stood  firm  to  the  last ; 
and,  after  a  variety  of  skirmishing,  the 
Delawares  drew  up  on  the  side  of  a  hill, 
and  stood  upward  of  four  hours,  with  a 
firm,  determined  countenance,  in  close  ar 
ray,  their  colors  flying,  the  enemy's  artil 
lery  playing  on  them  all  the  while,  not 
daring  to  advance  and  attack  them.,  though  six 
times  their  number,  and  nearly  surrounding 
them"  The  Delawares  and  Marylanders 
were  undoubtedly  as  brave  men  as  ever 
fought;  but  Grant,  in  holding  off,  was 
merely  obeying  orders. 

The  firing  of  Clinton's  troops  in  his 
rear  now  first  awakens  Stirling  to  the 
consciousness  that  he  is  hemmed  in  be 
tween  them  and  Grant  in  front.  The 
earl's  only  thought  at  this  moment  is  of 
escape  ;  while  Grant,  catching  the  sound 
of  the  guns,  knows  that  it  is  a  signal  for 
action,  and  pushes  on  his  advance.  The 
Americans  nearest  at  hand  are  dispersed, 
and  Atlee  their  colonel  taken  prisoner. 


328 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Lord  Stirling  strives  to  make  his  way 
back  to  the  American  lines  by  a  circuit- 
ous  route  toward  the  shore,  in  course  of 
which  he  would  be  obliged  to  ford  a  creek 
at  Yellow  Mills.  He  reaches  this  place, 
and  finds  himself  opposed  by  Lord  Corn- 
wallis,  who  has  been  detached  from  the 
British  right  with  a  strong  force,  and, 
having  taken  a  position  at  the  creek,  de 
fends  its  passage.  Stirling  had  with  him 
but  a  small  remnant  of  his  troops,  princi 
pally  composed  of  the  brave  "  Delawares 
and  Marylanders." 

Washington  and  a  group  of  officers 
were  on  the  heights,  watching  with  anxi 
ety  the  movements  of  Stirling,  who  was 
only  separated  from  the  American  lines 
by  the  creek  which  emptied  into  Gowa- 
nus  cove,  the  southern  boundary  of  the 
Brooklyn  peninsula.  "  The  earl  will  sure 
ly  surrender,"  thought  Washington  and 
each  of  his  officers,  as  they  observed  his 
desperate  position.  Stirling, however,  was 
evidently  bent  on  an  attempt  to  reach 
the  lines.  He  prepares  to  attack  Lord 
Cornwallis,  strongly  posted  as  he  is  with 
out  and  within  the  mill,  which  commands 
the  passage  of  the  creek.  Sending  most 
of  his  men  to  make  the  best  of  their  way 
through  the  water,  he  leads  about  half 
of  Srnallwood's  brave  regiment  against 
the  enemy.  Washington,  surprised  at 
this  daring  movement,  exclaims  to  the 
officers  at  his  side,  "  Good  God !  what 
brave  fellows  I  must  lose  this  day  !"* 

The  attack  began  :  Stirling  was  driven 
back,  but,  rallying  on  his  men,  the  assault 
is  renewed.  He  is  again  and  again,  for 
five  or  six  times,  repulsed  ;  but,  bringing 

*  Irvinjr. 


up  his  handful  of  brave  troops  once  more 
to  the  charge,  he  is  "  on  the  point  of  dri 
ving  Lord  Cornwallis  from  his  station; 
but,  large  reinforcements  arriving,  ren 
dered  it  impossible  to  do  more  than  pro 
vide  for  safety."  The  slaughter  was  ter 
rific.  Colonel  Smallwoocl's  regiment  of 
Marylanders  suffered  extremely,  and  was 
almost  cut  to  pieces.  It  lost  two  hundred 
and  fifty-nine.  "  This  loss  was  much  re 
gretted,  on  account  of  their  being  young 
men  of  the  best  families  in  the  country." 

While  the  struggle  was  going  on,  some 
succeeded  in  crossing  the  creek ;  one  man, 
however,  was  drowned.  The  rest  came 
into  the  American  lines  drenched,  be- 
mired,  and  covered  with  blood,  but  bring 
ing  in  with  them  twenty-three  prisoners. 
"  Twenty-seven  of  the  Delawares,"  writes 
Colonel  Haslet,  "  next  morning  were  mis 
sing.  In  that  number  were  Lieutenants 
Stewart  and  Harney,  the  latter  a  prison 
er,  the  other  not  yet  heard  of.  Major 
M'Donough  was  wounded  in  the  knee ; 
a  ball  passed  through  the  sleeve  of  his 
coat,  without  wounding  the  arm  or  his 
body.  Lieutenant  Anderson  had  a  bell 
lodged  in  his  throat;  Lieutenant  Corn  a 
ball  still  in  his  back.  The  standard  was 
torn  with  grapeshot  in  Ensign  Stephan's 
hand,  who  is  now  in  his  element,  and  a 
most  excellent  officer.  Such  is  our  fate. 
The  Delaware  battalion,  officers  and  men, 
are  respected  throughout  this  army."* 

Lord  Stirling  tried  still  to  reach  the 
lines ;  but,  in  attempting  to  escape,  he 
found  that  in  front  he  was  met  by  a  con 
siderable  body  of  troops,  and  was  pursued 
by  others  on  his  right  and  left,  and  all 

*  Sparks. 


REVOLUTIONARY. 


STIRLING  AND  SULLIVAN  SURRENDER. 


329 


pouring  a  hot  fire  upon  him  and  his  few 
remaining  brave  Mary  landers.  His  lord 
ship  now  gave  up  all  hopes  of  escape, 
and,  falling  back  behind  a  hill  in  his  rear, 
determined  to  seek  out  General  De  Heis- 
ter,  and  surrender  himself. 

De  Heister,  too.  had  strictly  obeyed  or 
ders,  and  awaited  the  signal  of  Clinton 
before  he  made  a  serious  attempt.  His 
troops,  after  sleeping  on  their  arms  at 
Flatbush  during  the  night,  were  early 
aroused,  and  marched  along  the  road. 
As  soon  as  the  signal-guns  of  Clinton 
were  heard,  De  Heister  sent  forward 
Count  Donop  with  his  regiment  to  storm 
the  redoubt  which  protected  Sullivan  and 
defended  the  pass  through  the  hills,  while 
he  himself  led  forward  the  rest  of  his 
Hessians  to  the  attack.  A  bloody  strug 
gle  was  the  consequence.  The  Ameri 
cans,  however,  did  not  long  continue  their 
resistance ;  as  Sullivan,  becoming  con 
scious  of  Clinton's  manoeuvre,  ordered  a 
retreat,  with  the  view  of  preventing  him 
self  from  being  shut  out  from  the  Ameri 
can  lines.  He  was,  however,  too  late ; 
for  Clinton  was  ready  to  intercept  him, 
and,  meeting  the  American  troops  on  the 
road,  drove  them  back  upon  the  Hessians. 
De  Heister  and  his  soldiers  showed  no 
mercy,  and  pitilessly  bayoneted  every 
man  within  their  reach.  Driven  thus 
backward  and  forward  between  Clinton 
in  front  and  De  Heister  in  the  rear,  the 
Americans,  with  hardly  a  chance  of  es 
cape,  suffered  terribly.  The  ferocity  of 
the  Hessian  soldiers  was  such  as  to  give 
countenance  to  the  rumor,  which  was  gen 
erally  circulated,  that  General  Howe  had 
said  to  De  Heister  on  his  arrival,  "  The 

42 


Americans  will  give  the  foreigners  no 
quarter;"  and  that  De  Heister  had  an 
swered,  "  Well,  as  I  know  it,  I  am  ready 
to  fight  on  these  terms."  The  soldiers' 
ears,  too,  were  said  to  have  been  indus 
triously  filled  with  the  most  terrific  ac 
counts  of  the  cruelty  of  the  Americans, 
who  were  represented  as  more  than  half 
savages,  and  would,  if  they  caught  a  Hes 
sian  alive,  stick  his  body  "full  with  pieces 
of  pine-wood,"  and  burn  him  to  death ! 
The  Hessians,  it  must  be  confessed,  if 
such  was  their  belief,  proved  themselves 
on  that  day  fit  to  cope  with  the  most 
barbarous  enemies. 

A  few  of  the  Americans  succeeded,  un 
der  the  cover  of  the  woods,  in  making 
their  escape  to  Brooklyn,  but  most  were 
either  killed  or  taken  prisoners.  Sulli 
van  surrendered  himself,  together  with  a 
number  of  his  officers. 

General  Howe  now  closed  in  with  his 
separate  divisions,  and  pursued  the  scat 
tered  remnants  of  Stirling's  and  Sullivan's 
forces  to  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of 
the  American  lines.  The  British  soldiers, 
exulting  in  their  success,  would  have 
rushed  at  once  against  the  works,  but 
Howe  cautiously  withdrew  them  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  American  guns,  to  the 
cover  of  a  wood,  and,  encamping  his  ar 
my,  prepared  to  make  an  assault  upon 
the  fortifications  of  Brooklyn  by  deliber 
ate  approaches.  The  enemy  had  suffered 
little  comparatively,  their  loss  being  only 
three  hundred  and  eighty  in  all;  while 
that  of  the  Americans  was  over  two  thou 
sand  in  killed,  wounded,  and  captured, 
among  whom  were  the  two  generals,  Sul 
livan  and  Lord  Stirling,  and  a  large  num- 


330 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


her  of  other  officers.  Sullivan  was  anx 
ious  to  exonerate  himself  from  all  respon 
sibility  for  the  loss  of  the  day,  and  wrote 
to  the  president  of  Congress  a  letter  which 
shows  a  care  to  redeem  his  own  charac 
ter,  at  all  hazards  to  the  fame  of  others. 
He  says :  — 

'•'  I  know  it  has  been  generally  reported 
that  I  commanded  on  Long  island  when 
the  action  happened  there.  This  is  by 
no  means  true.  General  Putnam  had 
taken  the  command  from  me  four  days 
before  the  action.  Lord  Stirling  com 
manded  the  main  body  without  the  lines. 
I  was  uneasy  about  a  road,  through  which 
I  had  often  foretold  that  the  enemy  would 
come,  but  could  not  persuade  others  to 
be  of  my  opinion.  I  went  to  the  hill  near 
Flatbush  to  reconnoitre,  and  with  a  pick 
et  of  four  hundred  men  was  surrounded 
by  the  enemy,  who  had  advanced  by  the 
very  road  I  had  foretold,  and  which  I  had 
paid  horsemen  fifty  dollars  for  patrolling 
by  night,  while  I  had  the  command,  as  I 
had  no  foot  for  the  purpose. 

"What  resistance  I  made  with  these 
four  hundred  men  against  the  British 
army,  I  leave  to  the  officers  who  were 
with  me  to  declare.  Let  it  suffice  for 
me  to  say,  that  the  opposition  of  the 
small  party  lasted  from  half-past  nine  to 
twelve  o'clock. 

"  The  reason  of  so  few  troops  being  on 
Long  island  was  because  it  was  generally 
supposed  that  the  enemy's  landing  there 
was  a  feint  to  draw  our  troops  thither, 
that  they  might  the  more  easily  possess 
themselves  of  New  York.  I  often  urged, 
both  by  word  and  writing,  that,  as  the 
enemy  had  doubtless  both  these  objects 


Alls,  28, 


in  view,  they  would  first  try  for  Long 
island,  which  commanded  the  other  ;  and 
then  New  York,  which  was  completely 
commanded  by  it,  would  fall  of  course. 
But  in  this  I  was  unhappy  enough  to  dif 
fer  from  almost  every  officer  in  the  army, 
till  the  event  proved  my  conjectures  were 
just." 

The  night  after  the  engagement  on 
Long  island  was  one  of  gloomy 
anxiety  to  the  Americans.  Pros 
trated  by  defeat,  and  doubtful  of  the  se 
curity  of  their  position,  they  passed  a 
sleepless  night,  full  of  ill  forebodings  of 
the  future.  The  morning  came,  but  with 
it  no  bright  summer  sun,  and  no  hope  to 
cheer  the  spirits  of  the  troops.  A  dull 
mist  overhung  land  and  water,  and  so 
darkened  the  day,  that  every  visible  ob 
ject  had  lost  its  summer  glow,  and  seemed 
dimmed,  like  the  hearts  of  the  patriots, 
with  a  breath  of  sadness.  The  enemy, 
with  an  overwhelming  force,  were  within 
a  few  hundred  yards ;  and  the  guards 
could  see  their  working-parties  turning- 
out,  with  the  spade  and  the  pick,  to  be 
gin  their  approaches. 

The  Americans  were,  however, momen 
tarily  cheered  by  the  arrival  in  the  early 
forenoon  of  the  orderly  battalions  of  Shee, 
Magaw,  and  Glover.  "  The  faces  that  nad 
been  saddened  by  the  disasters  of  yestei- 
day,  assumed  a  gleam  of  animation"  as 
they  approached ;  while  "  a  murmur  of 
approbation"  was  heard  among  "  the  spec 
tators,  occasionally  greeting  each  other 
with  the  remark, t  These  were  the  lads 
that  might  do  something  !'  "  Compara 
tively  well  dressed,  well  armed,  and  well 
disciplined  —  soldiers,  in  fact,  of  whom 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ANXIOUS  SUSPENSE. 


331 


Washington  himself  had  said,  "  They  had 
been  trained  with  more  than  common  at 
tention,"  their  appearance  in  that  moment 
of  danger,  naturally  won  the  admiration 
and  aroused  the  hopes  of  their  less-hap 
pily-conditioned  comrades.  The  misfor 
tunes  of  the  previous  day  had  taught 
even  the  most  self-confident  of  the  mili 
tia  of  the  disadvantages  of  a  want  of  or 
der  and  martial  training.  They  now  ex 
hibited  no  rude  contempt  for  "  fine  feath 
ers  and  fine  airs,"  but  heartily  welcomed 
the  very  looks  of  a  soldier. 

General  Mifflin  had  been  ordered,  on 
the  previous  afternoon,  to  bring  down 
from  Kingsbridge  the  battalions  of  Shee, 
Magaw,  and  Glover,  forming  in  all  some 
fifteen  hundred  men,  and  the  next  morn 
ing  they  were  sent  from  the  city,  where 
they  had  passed  the  night,  to  take  post 
in  Brooklyn  near  Wallabout  bay.  The 
men  cheerfully  took  their  position  on  the 
ground.  It  was  low  and  unfavorable  for 
defence,  and,  with  nothing  but  a  /raised 
ditch  in  front,  gave  little  promise  of  se 
curity  ;  while  the  enemy,  within  a  few 
hundred  paces,  were  rapidly  constructing 
batteries  upon  the  heights  which  com 
manded  Mifflm's  position.  The  drizzling 
mist  of  the  morning  had  closed  in  a  heavy 
rain,  and  the  men,  unprovided  with  tents, 
were  drenched  to  the  skin.  Each  soldier 
had  drawn  his  rations,  but  without  the  or 
dinary  camp  conveniences  he  was  forced 
to  eat  "  his  pickled  pork"  without  the  pre 
liminary  boiling  which,  although  gener 
ally  considered  "  desirable,"  was  found 
"  not  absolutely  necessary"  by  these  self- 
denying  patriots,  who,  as  one  of  them 
tells  us,  discovered  in  the  course  of  their 


hard  experience  that  "  the  article  was  es 
culent  without  culinary  preparation."  It 
is  comforting  to  know,  however,  that 
there  was  occasionally  a  more  savory 
morsel  for  a  lucky  mouth  than  the  "  es 
culent  without  culinary  preparation ;" 
for,  says  the  same  military  annalist  we 
have  quoted,  "  I  remember,  however,  on 
one  of  the  days  we  were  in  this  joyless 
place,  getting  a  slice  of  a  barbecued  pig, 
which  some  of  our  soldiers  had  dressed 
at  a  deserted  house  which  bounded  our 
lines." 

During  the  day  the  enemy  were  driv 
en  from  their  works  by  the  drenching 
rain  to  their  tents.  There  was,  however, 
a  constant  skirmishing  between  their  out 
posts  and  the  Americans.  Those  within 
the  lines  continued  to  suffer  greatly  from 
exposure  to  the  weather.  "Yesterday," 
says  Washington,  writing  on  the  29th  of 
August,  "  it  rained  severely  the  whole 
afternoon,  which  distressed  our  people 
much,  not  having  a  sufficiency  of  tents 
to  cover  them,  and  what  we  have  not  be 
ing  got  over  yet.  I  am  in  hopes  they 
will  be  all  got  to-day,  and  that  they  will 
be  more  completely  provided  for,  though 
the  great  scarcity  of  these  articles  dis 
tresses  us  be3^oud  measure,  not  having 
anything  like  a  sufficient  number  to  pro 
tect  our  people  from  the  inclemency  of 
the  weather ;  which  has  occasioned  much 
sickness,  and  the  men  to  be  almost  bro 
ken  down." 

In  the  evening  the  rain  ceased  to  fall, 
and  the  British  resumed  their  advances 
toward  the  American  lines.  Washington 
was  with  the  army  at  Brooklyn,  and  re 
mained  in  anxious  suspense,  undeter- 


332 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT  n. 


.  29, 


mined  about  the  future,  which,  from  the 
ill  condition  and  discouragement  of  the 
troops,  was  not  very  cheering.  The  night 
was  passing,  and  still  he  and  his  aids  were 
on  horseback,  riding  from  post  to  post, 
throughout  the  whole  extent  of  the  lines, 
examining  the  defences,  consulting  writh 
the  officers,  and  encouraging  the  men. 

With  the  mornino;  came  a 
heavy  log,  which  so  covered  the 
land  and  water,  that  nothing  could  be 
seen  of  the  enemy's  troops  or  fleet.  Gen 
eral  Mifflin,  however,  accompanied  by  Ad 
jutant-General  Reed  and  Colonel  Gray- 
son,  one  of  Washington's  aids,  rode  to  Red 
flook,  at  the  farthest  end  of  the  Ameri 
can  lines  toward  the  bay,  to  strive  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  British  fleet,  and  discov 
er  its  movements.  While  straining  their 
eyes  in  vain  to  see  through  the  shroud 
of  m'st,  a  light  breeze  suddenly  sprang 
up,  and  so  dispersed  the  fog,  that  the 
ships  at  the  narrows  could  be  distinctly 
seen.  Lord  Howe  was  evidently  making 
ready  for  a  movement.  All  were  astir. 
The  yards  were  manned,  anchors  were 
being  weighed,  and  boats  were  passing 
from  ship  to  ship.  Reed  galloped  back 
to  Washington,  to  report  what  had  been 
seen.  Mifilin  and  Grayson  followed.  So 
impressed  were  they  all  with  the  idea 
that  Lord  Howe  was  preparing  to  ad 
vance  with  his  ships  up  the  East  river, 
with  the  view  of  hemming  in  the  Ameri 
cans  at  Brooklyn,  and  so  persuaded  were 
they  of  the  necessity  of  an  immediate 
retreat,  that  Reed  was  authorized  by  his 
companions  to  suggest  it  to  Washington. 
The  command  er-in-chief  immediately 
called  a  council  of  war  in  an  old  stone 


church,  standing  near  the  centre  of  the 
village.  There  was  no  difference  of  opin 
ion.  It  was  now  apparent  to  all  that  a 
retreat  was  necessary.  Some  had  from 
the  earliest  moment  thought  it  advisable. 
As  soon  as  Mifflin  arrived  from  New  York, 
and  had  examined  the  relative  condition 
and  position  of  the  two  opposing  forces, 
he  said  to  Washington  :  "  You  must  either 
fight  or  retreat  immediately.  What  is 
your  strength?" — "Nine  thousand,"  was 
the  answer.  "It  is  not  sufficient — we 
must  therefore  retreat,"  rejoined  Mifflin. 

When  the  council  was  consulting,  Mif 
flin  undertook  to  propose  the  retreat ; 
but  lest,  in  making  such  a  proposition, 
he  might  incur  the  suspicion  of  a  want 
of  spirit,  he  stipulated  that,  in  case  it  was 
determined  upon, he  should  command  the 
rear,  but,  if  action  was  the  resolve,  the 
van.* 

Immediate  retreat  was,  however,  unan 
imously  determined  upon  by  the  officers 
of  the  council,  for  these  cogent  reasons : 
the  great  loss  sustained,  by  death  and 
capture,  in  the  late  action  ;  the  injury 
which  the  arms  and  ammunition  had  re 
ceived  from  the  heavy  rains ;  the  proba 
bility  that  the  enemy  would  succeed  in 
getting  their  ships  up  the  East  river,  and 
thus  cut  off  the  communication  between 
Long  island  and  New  York  ;  the  divided 
condition  of  the  troops,  having  so  many 
points  to  defend;  and  the  expectation 
that  the  enemy's  ships,  now  in  Flushing 
bay,  would  transport  across  the  sound  a 
part  of  the  British  army,  who  would  form 
an  encampment  above  Kingsbridge,  and 
thus  command  New-York  island. 

*  Gordon. 


K  KV  OLUTIOXARY.] 


THE  RETREAT. 


333 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Preparations  for  the  Retreat.—  The  Retreat  begins. — The  Night. — Crossing  the  East  River. — Glover  and  his  Marblehead 
Men. — A  Change  of  Wind. — A  Dreadful  Mistake. — The  Providential  Fog. — The  Quick  Steps  of  the  Rear. — The 
Last  Boat. — The  Next  Morning. — General  Howe's  Matutinal  Surprise. — The  Unbelief  of  the  British. — A  Harmless 
Cannonade.  — General  Sullivan  a  Messenger  from  Lord  Howe  to  Congress. — Washington  does  not  approve. — Lord 

Howe  moves  his  Fleet  nearer  New  York. — Washington  doubtful  of  his  Power  to  hold  the  City. The  "Weakness 

within"  more  feared  than  the  "  Strength  without." 


1776, 


29, 


"  THIS  day  passed  off  like  the  last, 
in  watching,  skirmishing,  and  rain. 
After  dark,  orders  were  received  and  com 
municated  to  us,"  says  the  lively  annal 
ist  whom  we  have  so  often  quoted,  "  to 
hold  ourselves  in  readiness  for  an  attack 
upon  the  enemy — to  take  place  in  the 
course  of  the  night.  This  excited 
much  speculation  among  the  offi 
cers,  by  whom  it  was  considered  a  truly 
daring  undertaking,  rendered  doubly  so 
from  the  bad  condition  of  our  arms,  so 
long  exposed  to  the  rain;  and,  although 
we  had  bayonets,  this  was  not  the  case 
with  the  whole  of  our  force,  upon  whom 
we  must  depend  for  support.  It  was  not 
for  us,  however,  to  object  to  the  measure  : 
we  were  soldiers,  and  bound  to  obey. 
Several  nuncupative  wills  were  made  up 
on  the  occasion,  uncertain  as  it  was  wheth 
er  the  persons  to  whom  they  were  com 
municated  would  survive,  e'ither  to  prove 
or  to  execute  them."  Graydon,  who  thus 
reports  the  rumors  of  the  camp,  was  soon 
relieved  from  his  anxieties  about  the  at 
tack.  "  There  was  a  deep  murmur,"  he 
says,  "which  indicated  some  movement, 
and  the  direction  of  the  decaying  sounds 
was  evidently  toward  the  river.  About 
two  o'clock,  a  cannon  went  off  with  a  tre 


mendous  roar.  If  the  explosion  was  with 
in  our  lines,  the  gun  was  probably  dis 
charged  in  the  act  of  spiking  it."  The 
retreat  had  begun;  and  the  Pennsylvania 
battalion,  in  which  Graydon  was  an  offi 
cer  had  been  appointed  to  cover  the 
movement. 

Eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  was  the 
hour  when  the  troops  were  ordered  to  be 
drawn  out,  in  readiness  to  be  moved  tow 
ard  the  river.  The  soldiers  were  kept  in 
ignorance  of  Washington's  purpose,  and 
they  were  not  conscious  of  it  until  they 
began  to  embark.  The  preparations  had 
been  made  with  the  utmost  secrecy  and 
despatch.  Early  in  the  day,  craft  of  all 
kinds — sloops  and  periaguas, flat-bottomed 
scows  and  row-boats — had  been  collected 
from  the  wharves,  the  stream,  up  and 
down  the  rivers,  and  gathered  at  Brook 
lyn.  Colonel  Glover,  with  his  men  of 
Marblehead  (each  one  skilled,  from  his 
experience  in  the  fisheries,  in  the  man 
agement  of  the  sail  and  the  oar),  had 
charge  of  the  boats.  The  colonel  was 
active  from  an  early  hour,  passing  fre 
quently  from  Brooklyn  to  New  York  and 
back  again,  in  collecting  and  fitting  out 
his  flotilla  for  the  perilous  passage  of  the 
night. 


334 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


A  delay  occurred  in  moving  the  troops, 
and  it  was  nine  o'clock  before  the  militia 
had  reached  the  river,  ready  for  embar 
kation.  The  boats  were  hauled  close  in 
shore  ;  Glover  and  his  men  were  on  duty, 
showing,  in  thoir  skilful  handling  of  the 
craft,  their  Marblehead  experience.  The 
tide  was  at  the  flood,  and  swept  along  the 
shore  in  a  rapid  current;  the  wind,  too, 
began  to  blow  freshly  from  the  northeast. 
The  "  old  sailors"  shook  their  heads,  and 
declared  that,  with  wind  and  water  against 
them,  it  would  not  do  to  attempt  the  pas 
sage  under  sail.  The  small  boats,  how 
ever,  were  filled  with  troops,  and  began 
to  cross.  Still,  with  the  row-boats  only, 
it  seemed  impracticable  to  convey  nine 
thousand  men  across  a  river  three  quar 
ters  of  a  mile  in  breadth ;  and  General 
M'Dougall,  who  was  stationed  on  the 
Brooklyn  shore  to  superintend  the  em 
barkation,  was  so  discouraged,  that  he 
sent  word  by  Colonel  Grayson  to  Wash 
ington,  that  he  thought  it  impracticable 
to  accomplish  the  retreat  that  night. 
Grayson  went  and  returned  without  find 
ing  the  commander-in-chief,  and  the  slow 
operation  of  the  crossing  and  recrossing 
of  the  small  boats  was  continued. 

Now,  however,  a  fortunate  change  oc 
curred  :  the  wind  sprang  up  from  the  op 
posite  quarter,  and,  blowing  freshly  from 
the  southwest,  would  carry  the  sailing- 
craft  straight  to  New  York.  The  nautical 
skill  of  the  Marblehead  men  was  at  once 
put  into  requisition ;  and,  with  sails  all 
set,  they  were  soon,  with  their  fleet  of 
sloops,  periuyuas,  and  sail-boats  (although 
loaded  with  men  deep  down  to  the  gun 
wales),  dashiiv  across  to  the  city. 

/  f  «/ 


The  delay  had  been  long,  and  morning 
was  approaching,  when  the  enemy  would 
be  on  the  alert  to  dash  the  hopes  of  all 
by  an  attack,  the  result  of  which  was  too 
terrible  to  contemplate.  "  Providence  in 
terposed  in  favor  of  the  retreating  army, 
by  sending  a  thick  fog  about  two  o'clock, 
which  hung  over  Long  island,  while  on 
the  New-York  side  it  was  clear."  This 
fog  proved  no  less  a  merciful  interposi 
tion  for  those  still  in  the  American  camp. 
Washington  had  despatched  an  aid-de 
camp,  Colonel  Scammel,  to  General  Mif- 
flin,  with  orders  to  hasten  down  all  the 
troops  on  their  march.  Scammel  hur 
ried  away,  but  soon  returned,  followed 
by  Mifflin  and  all  the  covering-party ! 
«  Good  God  !  General  Mifflin,"  exclaimed 
Washington,  as  soon  as  he  saw  him,  "I 
am  afraid  you  have  ruined  us,  by  so  un 
seasonably  withdrawing  the  troops  from 
the  lines."  —  "I  did  so  by  your  order," 
qi~;okly  answered  Mifflin.  "  It  can  not  be," 
emphatically  replied  Washington.  "By 
G-d  I  did  !"  as  resolutely  rejoined  the  oth 
er,  and  asked,  '•'  Did  Scammel  act  as  aid- 
de-camp  for  the  day,  or  did  he  not?"- 
"  He-did,"  answered  Washington.  "  Then," 
replied  Mifflin,  "I  had  orders  through 
him."  Washington  then  calmly  said  :  "  It 
is  a  dreadful  mistake ;  and,  unless  the 
troops  can  regain  the  lines  before  their 
absence  is  discovered  by  the  enemy,  the 
most  disastrous  consequences  are  to  be 
apprehended."* 

The  fog  was  here  again  their  salvation. 
Mifflin  succeeded  in  leading  his  troops 
back  without  the  British  having  discov 
ered  that  they  had  been  absent.  "This 

*  Irving. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


TORPIDITY   O*   THE  HOWES. 


33; 


was  a  trying  business  for  young  soldiers," 
reports  one  of  them,  and  particularly  so 
in  this  case ;  for,  on  their  march  to  the 
ferry,  there  had  already  been  a  cry  that 
the  British  light-horse  were  at  their  heels, 
and  the  battalion  had  halted  and  formed, 
while  the  front  rank,  kneeling,  had  pre 
sented  pikes  "  to  receive  the  charge  of 
the  supposed  assailants."  When  ordered 
to  return  to  the  lines,  the  men  willingly 
obeyed.  "  Whoever,"  says  another  mili 
tary  annalist,  "  has  seen  troops  in  a  simi 
lar  situation,  or  duly  contemplates  the 
human  heart  in  such  trials,  well  knows 
how  to  appreciate  the  conduct  of  these 
brave  men  on  this  occasion." 

It  is  not  surprising,  when  a  genuine 
order  did  come,  that  they  "  did  not  lin 
ger  ;"  and,  though  they  naturally  "moved 
with  celerity,"  it  is  no  more  than  we  ex 
pect  of  such  true  soldiers  that  they  "  guard 
ed  against  confusion."  They  were  the 
last  of  the  troops  to  leave  the  linos  ;  and, 
succeeding  in  reaching  the  place  of  em 
barkation  without  annoyance  from  the 
enemy,  took  to  the  boats  in  readiness  for 
them,  and  crossed  to  New  York  in  safety. 
"  I  found,"  says  Graydon,  "  a  boat,  pre 
pared  for  my  company,  which  immediate 
ly  embarked,  and,  taking  the  helm  my 
self,  I  so  luckily  directed  the  prow,  no 
object  being  discernible  in  the  fog,  that 
we  touched  near  the  centre  of  the  city." 

The  whole  manoeuvre  was  a  great  suc 
cess,  and,  although  much  aided  by  the 
''providential"  fog.  reflected  no  little  cred 
it  upon  Washington's  military  skill.  The 
cannon  and  stores  were,  for  the  most  part, 
brought  off  without  loss  or  damage.  A 
few  heavy  pieces  of  artillery  were,  how 


ever,  left  behind,  which  it  was  found  im 
possible  to  drag  away,  in  consequence  of 
the  wheels  of  the  carriages  sinking  up  to 
the  hubs  in  the  earth  which  had  been  sat 
urated  with  the  severe  and  long-contin 
ued  rains.  A  few  heads  of  cattle,  also, 
which  had  been  driven  within  the  lines, 
were  abandoned,  after  various  attempts 
to  force  them  across  the  water.  Wash 
ington  himself  and  his  staff,  though  often 
entreated,  would  not  leave  the  shore  of 
Brooklyn  until  the  last  body  of  troops 
had  embarked.  At  about  eight  o'clock, 
the  fog  cleared  away.  Four  boats  were 
still  on  the  river :  three  half  way  over, 
filled  with  croops  ;  the  fourth,  containing 
three  fellows  who  had  tarried  behind  to 
plunder,  was  so  near  the  shore,  that  the 
enemy,  who  at  this  moment  thronged  into 
the  lines  deserted  by  the  Americans,  coin 
manded  it  with  their  guns  and  forced  it 
to  return. 

Howe  had  only  been  aroused  to  tne 
fact  of  the  retreat  at  early  dawn  of  day. 
"  The  high-feeding  English  gen 
eral,"  says  a  compatriot  of  his 
own,  "  s^ept  on ;  and  his  brother  the  ad 
miral,  not  so  apt  to  do^e,  did  not  move  a 
single  ship  or  boat,  and  was  to  all  appear 
ance  unconscious  of  what  was  going  on." 
The  first  intelligence  brought  to  General 
Howe  was  by  a  negro-servant  of  a  Mrs. 
Ilapelye,  of  Brooklyn.  This  lady's  hus 
band,  suspected  of  tory  proclivities,  had 
fallen  under  General  Greene's  scrutiny, 
in  the  course  of  his  raid  against  the  dis 
affected,  and  been  duly  secured.  His 
wife,  however,  had  tory  inclinations  of 
her  own,  which  were  now  sharpened  by 
revenge  from  the  forced  absence  of  her 


Aug.  30. 


336 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


husband.  Remaining  in  Brooklyn,  she 
became  aware,  in  the  evening,  of  the  re 
treat  of  the  Americans,  and  sent  her  ne 
gro,  with  information  of  the  fact,  to  the 
British  camp.  The  first  man  into  whose 
hands  he  fell  chanced  to  be  a  Hessian, 
who  could  not  understand  a  word  of  the 
poor  African's  English  splutter ;  so  he  was 
clapped  into  the  guardhouse  for  the  night, 
and  only  brought  before  the  British  gen 
eral  next  morning,  by  whom  his  message 
was  understood,  when  it  was  too  late  to 
be  of  service. 

Even  now  the  story  was  hardly  be 
lieved  ;  and  it  was  only  when  Captain 
Montressor,  fortified  by  the  presence  of 
an  armed  party,  had  cautiously  approach 
ed  the  lines,  and,  climbing  up  the  em 
bankment,  had  peeped  over  and  found 
the  place  abandoned,  that  Howe  was  ful 
ly  persuaded  of  the  mortifying  fact  that 
the  American  army  had  escaped  from  his 
clutches.  The  drums  now  beat  the  morn 
ing  reveille  ;  and,  while  the  British  troops 
were  striking  their  tents  and  preparing 
to  move,  small  bodies  of  light-horse  gal 
loped  to  various  points  toward  the  shore 
to  reconnoitre  ;  and  some  fieldpieces  were 
hurried  into  Brooklyn,  and  began  to  pour 
a  harmless  cannonade  at  the  retreating 

O 

boats. 

On  the  succeeding  night,  the  Ameri 
cans  also  brought  away  their  ar 
tillery,  stores,  and  tents,  from 
Governor's  island.  One  man,  however, 
lost  his  arm  by  a  shot  from  a  British  man- 
of-war,  while  engaged  in  this  dangerous 
enterprise.  During  the  whole  of  this  per 
ilous  time,  Washington  was  personally  so 
active,  that  for  forty-eight  hours  previous 


Aug.  30, 


to  the  completion  of  the  retreat  from 
Long-  island,  he  had  hardly  been  off  his 
horse,  or  closed  his  eyes ;  "  so  that  I  was 
quite  unfit,"  he  says  on  the  next  day, :;  to 
write  or  dictate  till  this  morning." 

General  Sullivan,  when  taken  prisoner 
during  the  battle  of  Long  island,  was  im 
mediately  sent  on  board  the  admiral's 
ship.  Here  Lord  Howe  had  frequent  in 
terviews  with  Sullivan,  and  took  occasion 
to  tell  him  how  desirous  he  was  of  accom 
modation  with  the  colonies,  and  of  fulfil 
ling  the  purpose  of  his  nppointrnent  by 
the  British  government  as  a  commission 
er  to  treat  with  the  Americans.  With 
this  object  in  view,  his  lordship  expressed 
the  wish  of  seeing  some  of  the  members 
of  Congress.  The  American  general  was 
so  far  impressed  by  the  admiral's  earnest 
desire,  that  he  consented  to  go  (on  his 
parole)  to  Philadelphia  with  a  verbal  mes 
sage,  the  purport  of  which  was,  that,  al 
though  Lord  Howe  could  not  treat  with 
Congress  as  such,  he  was  desirous  of  con 
ferring  with  some  of  its  members  as  pri 
vate  gentlemen  only,  whom  he  would  meet 
at  any  place  they  would  appoint;  that  in 
conj  unction  with  General  Howe,  his  broth 
er,  he  had  full  powers  to  compromise  the 
dispute  with  America,  on  terms  advanta 
geous  and  honorable  to  both  the  colonies 
and  the  mother-country ;  that  he  wished 
a  compact  might  be  settled  at  this  time, 
when  no  decisive  blow  was  struck,  and 
neither  party  could  allege  being  com 
pelled  to  enter  into  such  agreement;  and 
that  in  case  Congress  were  disposed  to 
treat  in  the  manner  suggested,  ninny 
things  not  yet  asked  might  be  granted 
them ;  and  if,  upon  the  conference  being 


REVOLUTION"  ABY.] 


BRITISH  IN  POSSESSION  OF  BROOKLYN. 


337 


held,  there  should  arise  good  ground  for 
the  accommodation,  this  might  lead  to  an 
acknowledgment  of  its  authority,  as  oth 
erwise  the  compact  could  not  be  com 
pleted. 

Sullivan  was  put  ashore  at  New  York 
on  the  day  after  the  retreat  from  Long 
island,  and  immediately  presented  himself 
to  Washington,  with  a  statement  of  his 
desire  to  lay  before  Congress  the  message 
which  he  had  received  from  Lord  Howe. 
Washington  urges  no  objection.  "I  have 
consented,"  he  says,  "  to  his  going  to  Phil 
adelphia,  as  I  do  not  mean,  or  conceive 
it  right,  to  withhold  or  prevent  him  from 
giving  such  information  as  he  possesses 
in  this  instance."  Washington  evidently 
did  not  sympathize  very  warmly  with 
this  diplomatic  movement,  the  issue  of 
which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  record 
in  the  course  of  our  narrative. 

General  Howe  now  took  possession  of 
the  American  works  at  Brooklyn,  and,  gar 
risoning  them  with  a  force  principally  of 
Hessians,  distributed  the  rest  of  his  troops 
along  the  shores  of  Long  island  which 
overlooked  the  East  river;  posting  them 
at  Bushwick,  Hellgate,  Flushing,  and  New- 
town.  The  admiral,  too,  now  began  to 
close  with  his  fleet  toward  the  city,  and, 
anchoring  most  of  his  ships  off  Governor's 
island,  sent  on  the  night  after  the  battle 
a  forty-gun  frigate  up  the  East  river.  She 
succeeded  in  passing  up  between  Gov 
ernor's  and  Long  islands,  and,  although 
fired  upon  by  the  American  batteries,  was 
enabled  to  reach  an  anchorage  in  Turtle 
bay  without  damage.  The  next  morning, 
however,  Washington  despatched  Major 
Crane,  of  the  artillery,  with  two  twelve- 

43 


pounders  and  a  howitzer,  which,  hulling 
her  several  times,  forced  her  to  take  shel 
ter  behind  Blackwell's  island,  where  she 
remained.  Several  other  British  ships- 
of-war,  with  a  whole  fleet  of  store  and 
transport  vessels,  which  had  come  round 
Long  island,  were  also  stationed  in  the 
sound  above. 

As  the  enemy  were  thus  closing  about 
him,  Washington  began  to  be  doubtful  of 
the  possibility  of  continuing  to  hold  the 
city  of  New  York.  He  felt  the  need  of 
disciplined  troops,  and  ordered  General 
Mercer  to  send  the  thousand  men  intend 
ed  for  the  flying  camp  to  the  city;  while 
a  corresponding  number  of  the  militia 
were  to  be  detached  to  take  their  place 
in  New  Jersey,  and  try  to  make  a  diver 
sion,  if  practicable,  upon  Staten  island. 
"  Till  of  late,"  says  Washington,  in  unusu 
ally  despairing  words  for  him,  "I  had  no 
doubt  in  my  own  mind  of  defending  this 
place;  nor  should  I  have  yet,  if  the  men 
would  do  their  duty;  but  this  I  despair 
of."  He  was  already  contemplating  an 
evacuation,  and  writes  to  the  president 
of  Congress,  asking — "  If  we  should  be 
obliged  to  abandon  the  town,  ought  it  to 
stand  as  winter-quarters  for  the  enemy  ? 

They  would,"  he  continues,  "derive 

great  conveniences  from  it,  on  the  one 
hand ;  and  much  property  would  be  de 
stroyed  on  the  other.  It  is  an  important 
question,  but  will  admit  of  but  little  time 
for  deliberation.  At  present,  I  dare  say 
the  enemy  mean  to  preserve  it,  if  they 
can.  If  Congress,  therefore,  should  re 
solve  upon  the  destruction  of  it,  the  reso 
lution  should  be  a  profound  secret,  as  the 
knowledge  of  it  will  make  a  capital  change 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[l'AKT    II. 


in  their  plans."  Washington's  great  diffi 
culty  was, however,  with  his  troops,  which, 
since  the  defeat  on  Long  island,  were  so 
disheartened  and  disorganized,  that  no  re 
liance  could  be  placed  upon  them  as  an 


army,  either  for  offence  or  defence.  The 
American  commander-in-chief  was  thus 
placed  almost  hors  de  combat,  not  so  much 
by  the  strength  without  as  by  the  weak 
ness  within. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Discouragement  of  the  American  Troops. — Desertion. — Villany  and  Rascality. — Washington  calls  loudly  for  lleform. — 
Low  Fellows  in  High  Places. — Fort  Constitution  garrisoned  and  strengthened. — Removal  of  Stores  from  the  City  of 
New  York. — The  Enemy  threaten  to  cross  the  East  River  and  cut  off  the  Communication  with  the  Country.  —  New 
York  to  be  burned,  or  not  ? — Opinions  on  the  Subject. — The  New  Disposition  of  the  American  Army. — The  Howes 
pause  for  a  Reply  from  Congress. 


1776, 


Sept.  2, 


WASHINGTON  would  be  particular 
ly  happy,  he  writes  to  Congress,  if 
he  could  transmit  to  them  information 
that  would  be  agreeable  to  their  wishes; 
but  "  unfortunately  for  me,  unfortunately 
for  them,"  it  is  not  in  his  power.  "  Our 
situation,"  he  declares,  "  is  truly 
distressing.  The  check  our  de 
tachment  sustained  on  the  27th  ultimo 
has  dispirited  too  great  a  proportion  of 
our  troops,  and  filled  their  minds  with 
apprehension  and  despair.  The  militia, 
instead  of  calling  forth  their  utmost  ef 
forts  to  a  brave  and  manly  opposition,  in 
order  to  repair  our  losses,  are  dismayed,  in 
tractable,  and  impatient  to  return.  Great 
numbers  of  them  have  gone  off;  in  some 
instances,  almost  by  whole  regiments,  by 
half  ones,  and  by  companies,  at  a  time. 
This  circumstance,  of  itself,  independent 
of  others,  when  fronted  by  a  well-appoint 
ed  enemy  superior  in  number  to  our  whole 
collected  force,  would  be  sufficiently  dis 
agreeable  ;  but,  when  their  example  has 


infected  another  part  of  the  army,  when 
their  want  of  discipline  and  refusal  of  al 
most  every  kind  of  restraint  and  govern 
ment  have  produced  a  like  conduct  but 
too  common  to  the  whole,  and  an  entire 
disregard  of  that  order  and  subordination 
necessary  to  the  well-doing  of  an  army, 
and  which  had  been  inculcated  before,  as 
well  as  the  nature  of  our  military  estab 
lishment  would  admit  of — our  condition 
becomes  still  more  alarming;  and  with 
the  deepest  concern  I  am  obliged  to  con 
fess  my  ivant  of  confidence  in  the  generality 
of  the  troops." 

These  were  strong  words,  which,  how 
ever,  seemed  unfortunately  too  well  justi 
fied  by  the  conduct  of  the  army,  and  es 
pecially  of  the  militia.  "Almost  every 
villany  and  rascality  are  daily  practised; 
so  many  of  our  officers  want  honor,  and 
so  many  of  our  soldiers  want  virtue,  civ 
il,  social,  and  military,  that  nothing  but 
the  severest  punishments  can  keep  them 
from  ruining  the  American  cause" — was 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CHARACTER  OF  MILITIA. 


330 


the  testimony  of  others  besides  Washing 
ton.  A  contemporary  declares,  "I  have 
heard  some  tales  of  wo,  occasioned  by  the 
robberies  of  our  army,  which  would  ex 
tort  sighs  from  the  hearts  of  tigers."  An 
other  emphatically  asserts :  "  Unless  some 
speedy  and  effectual  measures  are  adopt 
ed  by  Congress,  our  cause  will  be  lost. 
The  few  who  act  upon  principles  of  dis 
interestedness  are,  comparatively  speak 
ing,  no  more  than  a  drop  in  the  ocean. 
As  the  war  must  be  carried  on  systemat 
ically,  you  must  establish  your  army  up 
on  a  permanent  footing,  and  give  your 
officers  good  pay,  that  they  may  be  and 
support  the  character  of  gentlemen,  and 
not  be  driven,  by  a  scanty  allowance,  to 
the  low  and  dirty  arts  which  many  of 
them  practise,  to  filch  the  public  of  more 
than  the  difference  of  pay  would  amount 
to.  The  men  must  be  engaged  by  a  good 
bounty,  for  the  continuance  of  the  war. 
To  depend  upon  militia  is  assuredly  rest 
ing  on  a  broken  staff  They  can  not  brook 
subordination.  It  would  be  cheaper  to 
keep  fifty  or  a  hundred  thousand  in  con 
stant  pay,  than  depend  upon  half  the 
number,  and  supply  the  other  half  occa 
sionally  by  militia.  If  I  was  to  declare, 
upon  oath,  whether  the  militia  have  been 
most  serviceable  or  hurtful,  upon  the 
whole,  I  should  subscribe  to  the  latter. 
No  man  who  regards  order,  regularity,  or 
economy,  or  who  has  any  regard  for  his 
own  honor,  character,  or  peace  of  mind, 
will  risk  them  upon  militia." 

The  system  of  choosing  their  own  offi 
cers,  in  the  militia-companies,  seemed  de 
structive  of  all  order  and  discipline.  The 
men  would  select  those  only  who  consent 


ed  to  throw  their  pay  into  a  joint  stock, 
from  which  captains,  lieutenants,  ensigns, 
sergeants,  corporals,  drummers,  and  pri 
vates,  drew  equal  shares.  With  this  sys 
tem,  low  fellows  naturally  were  found  in 
high  places ;  and  accordingly  it  was  not 
surprising  that  a  captain  should  be  proved 
guilty  of  stealing  his  soldiers'  blankets ; 
that  another  officer  should  be  found  sha 
ving  his  men  "in  the  face  of  distinguished 
characters ;"  and  that  many  of  the  regi 
mental  surgeons  made  a  practice  of  sel 
ling  recommendations  to  furloughs  and 
discharges  at  a  less  sum  than  a  shilling 
a  man.* 

Washington  finds  that  affairs  were  not 
changing  for  the  better,  and  the  militia 
were  daily  so  diminishing,  that  "in  a  lit 
tle  time  I  am  persuaded,"  he  writes, "  their 
number  will  be  very  inconsiderable."  He 
found  it  impossible  to  check  the  desire  of 
these  men  to  return  to  their  homes.  Al 
though  he  refused  to  give  them  their  dis 
charge,  they  insisted  upon  going,  and  did 
go,  so  fast,  that  in  a  few  days  the  Con 
necticut  militia  were  reduced  from  six  to 
less  than  two  thousand !  Washington  was 
forced  to  acquiesce  in  these  shameful  de 
sertions,  which,  however, greatly  harassed 
him. 

In  the  meantime,  little  could  be  done, 
either  for  offence  or  defence.  General 
Mercer  was,  however,  ordered  to  detach 
a  force  from  Amboy,  where  he  was  sta 
tioned,  to  take  possession  of  and  strength 
en  the  works  on  the  Jersey  bank  of  the 
Hudson, called  Fort  Constitution,  and  sub 
sequently  Fort  Lee,  opposite  Fort  Wash 
ington  on  the  New-York  side.  Wash- 

*  Gordon. 


340 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  it. 


ington,  moreover,  as  he  thought  it  "  ex 
pedient  to  guard  against  every  contin 
gency,"  and  that  he  might  have  resources 
left  if  obliged  to  abandon  New  York,  be 
gan  to  remove  all  the  stores,  not  imme 
diately  wanted,  above  Kingsbridge.  The 
evacuation  of  the  city  was  now,  in  fact, 
a  subject  of  constant  talk  and  considera 
tion.  The  probability  of  such  an  event, 
and  the  possibility  of  the  destruction  of 
New  York,  had  been  discussed  in  Con 
gress,  which  hurried  to  pass  and  send  to 
the  commander-in-chief  this  resolution : 
"  Resolved,  That  General  Washington  be 
acquainted  that  Congress  would  have  spe 
cial  care  taken,  in  case  he  should  find  it 
necessary  to  quit  New  York,  that  no  dam 
age  be  done  to  the  said  city  by  his  troops 
on  their  leaving  it ;  the  Congress  having 
no  doubt  of  their  being  able  to  recover 
the  same,  though  the  enemy  should  for 
a  time  obtain  possession  of  it." 

As  the  British  were  closing  in  with 
their  ships,  and  extending  their  encamp 
ments  along  the  Long-island  shore  of  the 
East  river,  there  was  reason  to  suppose 
that  they  intended  to  make  a  landing 
above  or  below  Kingsbridge,  in  order  to 
hem  in  the  American  army,  and  cut  off  its 
communication  with  the  country.  This 
called  for  prompt  action  ;  and  Washing 
ton  immediately  summoned  a  council  of 
war,  to  fix  upon  some  system  of  conduct 
to  be  pursued,  in  order  to  baffle  the  ef 
forts  and  counteract  the  schemes  of  Gen 
eral  Howe,  and  also  to  determine  as  to 
the  expediency  of  evacuating  or  attempt 
ing  to  maintain  the  city  and  the  several 
posts  on  the  island  of  New  York. 

The  council  of  general  officers  rnet,  ac 


cording  to  the  summons.*  There 

,       .    .  Sept.  7, 

was  a  division  of  opinion.     JJut 

all  agreed  that  New-York  city  would  not 
be  tenable  if  the  enemy  resolved  to  bom 
bard  and  cannonade  it.  Some,  howev 
er  (not  a  little  influenced  in  their  opin 
ion  by  the  supposition  that  Congress  de 
sired  it  to  be  maintained  at  every  haz 
ard),  were  opposed  to  the  evacuation. 
Others  strongly  advocated  the  immedi 
ate  and  total  abandonment  of  the  town. 
This  was  the  opinion  of  General  Greene, 
who  strenuously  presented  it  in  a  letter 
to  the  commander-in-chief  two  days  be 
fore  the  assembling  of  the  council.  "  The 
object  under  consideration  is,"  he  writes, 
"  whether  a  general  and  speedy  ^etreat 
from  the  island  is  necessary  or  not.  To 
me  it  appears  the  only  eligible  plan  to 
oppose  the  enemy  successfully  and  secure 
ourselves  from  disgrace.  I  think  we  have 
no  object  on  this  side  of  Kingsbridge. 
Our  troops  are  now  so  scattered,  that  one 
part  may  be  cut  off  before  the  others  can 
come  to  their  support.  In  this  situation 
suppose  the  enemy  should  send  up  the 
North  river  several  ships  of  force,  and  a 
number  of  transports  at  the  same  time, 
and  effect  a  landing  between  the  town 
and  the  middle  division  of  the  army ; 
that  another  party  from  Long  island 
should  land  directly  opposite ;  and  that 
these  two  parties  should  form  a  line 
across  the  island  and  intrench  themselves. 
The  two  flanks  of  this  line  could  be  easi 
ly  supported  by  the  shipping.  The  cen 
tre,  fortified  with  the  redoubts,  would  ren- 

*  Among  them  were  some  of  those  lately  promoted  :  for 
Congress  had  appointed  Heath,  Spencer,  Greene,  and  Sul 
livan,  major-generals;  and  James  Reed.  Nixon,  St.  Clair, 
M'Dougall,  Parsons,  and  James  Clinton,  hrigadier-generals. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


A  COMPROMISE. 


der  it  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
cut  our  way  through.  At  the  time  the 
enemy  are  executing  this  movement,  they 
will  be  able  to  make  sufficient  diversions, 
if  not  real  lodgments,  to  render  it  impos 
sible  for  the  centre  and  upper  divisions 
of  the  army  to  afford  any  assistance  here. 
Should  this  event  take  place  —  and,  by- 
the-by,  I  do  not  think  it  very  improbable 
— your  excellency  will  be  reduced  to  that 
situation,  which  every  prudent  general 
would  wish  to  avoid :  that  is,  of  beino; 

'  "  S 

obliged  to  fight  the  enemy  at  a  disadvan 
tage,  or  submit."  Greene  went  even  fur 
ther,  and  advised  the  destruction  of  New 
York.  "I  would  burn  the  city  and  its 
suburbs,"  he  says,  and  thinks  that  they 
should  net  be  put  into  competition  with 
the  general  interests  of  America,  for  "  two 
thirds  of  the  property  of  the  city  and  the 
suburbs  belong  to  the  tories." 

Putnam,  too,  agreed  with  Greene,  while 
Mercer,  Spencer,  Heath,  and  Clinton,  were 
of  the  opposite  opinion.  Washington  him 
self  was  evidently  in  favor  of  evacuation. 
"  It  is  now  extremely  obvious,"  he  says, 
"from  all  intelligence,  from  their  move 
ments,  and  every  other  circumstance,  that 
having  landed  their  whole  army  on  Long 
island,  except  about  four  thousand  on 
Staten  island,  they  mean  to  enclose  us  on 
the  island  of  New  York,  by  taking  post 
in  our  rear,  while  the  shipping  effectual 
ly  secures  the  front ;  and  thus,  either  by 
cutting  off  our  communication  with  the 
country,  oblige  us  to  fight  them  on  their 
own  terms,  or  surrender  at  discretion  ;  or 
by  a  brilliant  stroke  endeavor  to  cut  this 
army  in  pieces,  and  secure  the  collection 
of  arms  and  stores  which  they  well  know 


we  shall  not  be  able  soon  to  replace." 
With  this  view  of  the  enemy's  tactics, 
Washington,  while  considering  the  best 
means  of  opposing  them,  says  it  is  "  im 
possible  to  forget  that  history,  our  own  ex 
perience,  the  advice  of  our  ablest  friends 
in  Europe,  the  fears  of  the  enemy,  and 
even  the  declarations  of  Congress, demon 
strate  that  on  our  side  the  war  should  be. 
defensive  (it  has  even  been  called  a  war 
of  posts) ;  that  we  should  on  all  occasions 
avoid  a  general  action ;  riot  put  anything 
to  risk,  unless  compelled  by  a  necessity 
into  which  we  ought  never  to  be  drawn. 
—  With  these  views,"  he  oontinues,  "  and 
being  fully  persuaded  that  it  would  be  pre 
sumption  to  draw  out  our  young  troops 
into  open  ground  against  their  superiors 
both  in  number  and  discipline,  I  have 
never  spared  the  spade  and  pickaxe." 

A  compromise  was  finally  agreed  upon 
between  these  extreme  opinions,  and  it 
was  determined  by  the  council  to  arrange 
the  army  under  three  divisions :  five  thou 
sand  to  remain  for  the  defence  of  the  city; 
nine  thousand  to  be  stationed  at  Kino-s- 

O 

bridge  and  its  neighborhood,  in  order  not 
only  to  secure  the  posts  there,  but  to  be 
ready  to  attack  the  enemy,  who  were 
moving  eastward  on  Long  island,  if  they 
should  attempt  to  land ;  and  the  rest  of 
the  army  to  occupy  the  intermediate 
space,  in  readiness  to  support  either  di 
vision  above  or  below. 

Washington  immediately  proceeded  to 
put  into  execution  these  plans.  He  made 
preparation  to  shift  his  own  headquarters 
to  Kingsbridge.  Rough  Avooden  struc 
tures  were  ordered  to  be  built  there  for 
the  troops,  and  the  sick  removed  from 


342 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PAUT    IT. 


New  York  to  Orangetown,  in  New  Jersey. 
The  enemy,  although  hourly  and  anx 
iously  expected  to  begin  their  manoeu 
vres,  seemed  to  hesitate,  probably  await 


ing  the  issue  of  the  interview  just  about 
to  take  place  between  Lord  Howe  and 
the  committee  appointed  by  Congress  to 
meet  him  on  Staten  island. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

The  Result  of  Sullivan's  Mission. — Franklin.  Adams,  and  Rutledge,  sent  to  meet  Lord  flowc  and  hie  Brother. — Lord 
Howe's  Honeyed  Words  to  Franklin. — Franklin's  Stinging  Answer. — The  Journey  of  the  American  Commissioner':. 
— The  Scenes  on  the  Road. — The  Incidents  of  a  Night. — Adams  and  Franklin  Bedfellows. — Franklin's  Theory  of 
Colds. — Arrival  at  Amboy  — The  Hostage. — Interview  with  Lord  Howe. — The  House,  as  it  now  appears. — His  Lord 
ship's  Hospitality. — The  Business  of  the  Conference. — The  Discussion. — The  Result. — Sullivan's  Mission  a  "Fool's 
Errand." — Washington's  Opinion. 


1776, 


GENERAL  SULLIVAN  had  arrived  at 


Philadelphia,  in  his  capacity  of  em- 
bassador  from  Lord  Howe,  and,  having 
laid  before  Congress  the  verbal  message 
of  his  lordship,  was  requested  to  reduce 
it  to  writing.  This  having  been  done, 
Congress,  after  a  long  discussion,  resolved 
that  they  could  not  send  any  of  their 
members  in  a  private  capacity ;  but  were 
willing,  as  they  were  desirous  of  an  hon 
orable  peace,  to  appoint  a  committee  to 
wait  upon  his  lordship,  who  might  receive 
them  in  whatever  character  he  pleased. 
Benjamin  Franklin  of  Pennsylvania,  John 
Adams  of  Massachusetts,  and  John  Rut- 
ledge  of  South  Carolina,  were  accordingly 
chosen  in  fulfilment  of  these  resolutions. 
They  immediately  set  out  to  meet  Lord 
Howe  on  Staten  island. 

A  private  letter  had  already  been  writ 
ten  to  Franklin  by  his  lordship,  who  had 
stated  the  object  of  his  mission,  and  ex 
pressed  to  his  "  old  acquaintance  and  wor 
thy  friend,"  whom  he  had  known  in  Lon 


don,  his  earnest  desire  to  hav<  it  success 
fully  accomplished.  Franklin's  answer 
was  somewhat  pungent,  but  seemed  justi 
fied  by  the  apparent  desire  of  Lord  Howe 
to  obtain  his  concurrence  in  a  movement 
which  no  American  patriot  could  believe 
was  favorable  to  the  interests  of  his  coun 
try  :- 

"Directing  pardons,"  writes  Franklin, 
"to  be  offered  to  the  colonies,  who  are 
the  very  parties  injured,  expresses  indeed 
that  opinion  of  our  ignorance,  baseness, 
and  insensibility,  which  your  uninformed 
and  proud  nation  has  long  been  pleased 
to  entertain  of  us ;  but  it  can  have  no 
other  effect  than  that  of  increasing  our 
resentments.  It  is  impossible  we  should 
think  of  submission  to  a  government  that 
has,  with  the  most  wanton  barbarity  and 
cruelty,  burnt  our  defenceless  towns  in 
the  midst  of  winter;  excited  the  savages 
to  massacre  our  peaceful  farmers,  and  our 
slaves  to  murder  their  masters ;  and  is 
even  now  bringing  foreign  mercenaries 


REVOI.TTTIONAKY.] 


A  PUNGENT  LETTER  OF  FRANKLIN. 


343 


to  deluge  our  settlements  with  blood. 
These  atrocious  injuries  have  extinguish 
ed  every  spark  of  affection  for  that  pa 
rent-country  we  once  held  so  dear.  But 
were  it  possible  for  us  to  forget  and  for 
give  them,  it  is  not  possible  for  yon  (I 
mean  the  British  nation)  to  forgive  the 
people  you  have  so  heavily  injured 

"  Your  lordship  may  possibly  remem 
ber  the  tears  of  joy  that  wet  my  cheek, 
when,  at  your  good  sister's  in  London, 
you  once  gave  expectations  that  a  recon 
ciliation  might  soon  take  place.  I  had 
the  misfortune  to  find  these  expectations 
disappointed,  and  to  be  treated  as  the 
cause  of  the  mischief  I  was  laboring  to 
prevent.  My  consolation  under  that 
groundless  and  malevolent  treatment 
was,  that  I  retained  the  friendship  of 
many  wise  and  good  men  in  that  coun 
try  ;  and,  among  the  rest,  some  share  in 
the  regard  of  Lord  Howe. 

"  The  well-founded  esteem,  and  permit 
me  to  say  affection,  which  I  shall  always 
have  for  your  lordship,  make  it  painful 
to  me  to  see  you  engaged  in  conducting 
a  war,  the  great  ground  of  which,  as  de 
scribed  in  your  letter,  is  '  the  necessity  of 
preventing  American  trade  from  passing 
into  foreign  channels.'  To  me  it  seems 
neither  the  obtaining  nor  retaining  any 
trade,  how  valuable  soever,  is  an  object 
for  which  men  may  justly  spill  each  oth 
er's  blood ;  that  the  true  and  sure  means 
of  extending  and  securing  commerce  are 
the  goodness  and  cheapness  of  commodi 
ties  ;  and  that  the  profits  of  no  trade  can 
be  ever  equal  to  the  expense  of  compel 
ling  and  holding  it  by  fleets  and  armies. 
I  consider  this  war  against  us,  therefore, 


as  both  unjust  and  unwise  ;  and  1  am  per 
suaded  that  cool  and  dispassionate  pos 
terity  will  condemn  to  infamy  those  who 
advised  it ;  and  that  even  success  will  not 
save  from  some  degree  of  dishonor  those 
who  have  voluntarily  engaged  to  conduct 
it. 

"  I  know  your  great  motive  in  coming 
hither,  was  the  hope  of  being  instrumen 
tal  in  a  reconciliation ;  and  I  believe, 
when  you  find  that  to  be  impossible,  on 
any  terms  given  you  to  propose,  you  will 
then  relinquish  so  odious  a  command,  and 
return  to  a  more  honorable  private  sta 
tion." 

With  such  preliminaries,  his  lordship 
could  not  have  much  hope  of  a  success 
ful  negotiation  with  Franklin.  We  shall 
find  that  his  associates,  Adams  and  Rut- 
ledge,  were  no  less  inflexible  in  their  spir 
it  of  patriotic  independence. 

The  committee  finally  set  out  on  their 
journey,  Franklin  and  Rutledge 
driving  in  a  "  chair,"  and  Adams 
riding  on  horseback.  On  the  first  night 
they  reached  Brunswick,  in  New  Jersey, 
where  they  lodged  at  an  inn.  They  had 
now  an  opportunity  of  seeing  something 
of  the  soldiery,  about  whom  they  had 
lately  received  so  many  complaints  while 
in  Congress.  There  were  numbers,  both 
of  officers  and  men,  straggling  about  the 
roads  and  loitering  in  the  public  houses, 
whose  conduct  and  condition  were  such 
as  not  to  inspire  very  sanguine  hopes  of 
the  country's  cause  intrusted  to  such  de 
fenders.  The  three  patriotic  legislators, 
however,  consoled  themselves  with  the 
expectation  that  the  disorderly  military 
characters  which  thev  had  thus  encoun- 


Sept,  9, 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


tercd  would  be  "  chastised  into  order  in 
time." 

The  taverns  at  Brunswick  were  so  full 
of  rollicking  troopers,  that  it  was  difficult 
to  find  entertainment,  Finally,  a  single 
hed  was  obtained  for  the  joint  occupancy 
of  Franklin  and  Adams,  in  a  chamber  lit 
tle  larger  than  the  bed,  without  a  chim 
ney,  and  with  only  one  small  window. 
Here  they  turned  in  for  the  night.  The 
window  was  open  ;  and  Adams,  who  was 
an  invalid,  and  afraid  of  the  night  air, 
shut  it  close. 

"  Oh  !"  cried  out  Franklin,  "  do  n't  shut 
the  window  :  we  shall  be  suffocated  !" 

"  I  am  afraid  of  the  night  air,"  replied 
Adams. 

Doctor  Franklin  rejoined :  "  The  air 
within  this  chamber  will  soon  be,  and 
indeed  is  now,  worse  than  that  without 
doors.  Come !  open  the  window,  and 
come  to  bed,  and  I  will  convince  you.  I 
believe  you  are  not  acquainted  with  my 
theory  of  colds." 

Whereupon,  Adams  opened  the  win 
dow,  and,  leaping  into  bed,  began  a  dis 
cussion  with  his  philosophical  bedfellow 
upon  his  theory  of  colds.  He  had  read, 
Adams  said,  Franklin's  letters  to  Doctor 
Cooper,  in  which  he  had  advanced  the 
opinion  that  nobody  ever  got  cold  by 
going  into  a  cold  church  or  any  other 
cold  air;  but  he  declared  it  was  so  in 
consistent  with  his  experience,  that  he 
thought  it  a  paradox.  Notwithstanding. 
Adams  added  that  he  was  so  curious  to 
have  Franklin's  views,  that  he  would  be 
glad  to  hear  them,  even  at  the  risk  of  a 
cold. 

The  doctor  then  began  a  harangue  up 


on  air  and  cold,  and  respiration  and  per 
spiration,  and  with  so  much  profundity 
of  science,  that  he  soon  put  his  bedfellow 
asleep.  "  I  soon,"  says  Adams,  "  left  him 
and  his  philosophy  together,  but  I  believe 
they  were  equally  sound  and  insensible 
within  a  few  minutes  after  me,  for  the 
last  words  I  heard  were  pronounced  as 
if  he  was  more  that  half  asleep." 

The  next  morning,  Kutledge,  who  prob 
ably  had  slept  alone,  or  at  any 

u   j  •  Sept,  10, 

rate  had  not  enjoyed  the  honor 

or  suffered  from  the  theory  of  a  "  philo 
sophical  bedfellow,"  joined  Franklin  and 
Adams,  and  the  three  continued  their 
journey  to  Amboy.  On  reaching  this 
place,  Lord  Howe's  barge  was  in  waiting 
to  take  them  over  to  the  opposite  shore 
of  Staten  island.  A  British  officer  had 
also  arrived,  who  was  to  give  himself  up 
to  the  Americans  as  a  hostage  for  the  se 
curity  of  the  committee.  Adams,  how 
ever,  as  soon  as  he  saw  him,  told  his  col 
leagues  that  he  thought  it  would  be  child 
ish  to  depend  upon  such  a  pledge ;  and. 
they  agreeing,  the  three  accordingly  in 
sisted  upon  taking  the  hostage  back  again 
to  the  island.  The  officer,  declaring  that 
he  was  at  their  disposition,  could  not,  of 
course,  refuse  to  comply,  and  crossed  with 
the  committee. 

As  they  approached  the  shore,  Lord 
Howe  (having  been  on  the  lookout  from 
his  house,  which  stood  not  far  from  the 
water)  observed  the  barge,  and  immedi 
ately  went  down  to  the  water's  edge  to 
receive  his  congressional  visiters.  On 
their  landing,  his  lordship,  looking  at  the 
returned  hostage,  remarked, '"  Gentlemen, 
you  make  me  a  very  high  compliment, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


HOUSE  ON  WARD'S  POINT. 


345 


and  you  may  depend  upon  it  I  will  con 
sider  it  as  the  most  sacred  of  things." 

They  then  walked  up  together  to  the 
house  "  between  lines  of  guards  of  gren 
adiers,  looking  fierce  as  ten  furies,  and 
making  grimaces  and  gestures,  and  mo 
tions  of  their  muskets,"  which  were  sup 
posed  to  be  in  accordance  with  military 
etiquette,  "  but  which  we  neither  under 
stood  nor  regarded,"  says  the  inflexible 
republican  Adams  ;  who,  however,  must 
have  been  struck  with  the  difference  be 
tween  the  "grimaces"  of  the  British  gren 
adiers  and  the  "straggling  and  loitering" 
of  his  own  undisciplined  countrymen  on 
the  roads  and  about  the  doors  of  the  pub 
lic  houses. 

The  house  occupied  by  Lord  Howe 
still  stands,  a  solid  stone  structure,  upon 
Ward's  point.  It  is  a  simple  farmhouse. 
Cattle  feed  peacefully  upon  the  meadow, 
which  stretches  from  the  door  to  the  wa 
ter's  edge.  Well-cultivated  fields  extend 
back  to  the  road;  on  the  right  there  is  a 
grove,  where  school-children  in  the  sum 
mer  time  come  from  the  stifling  streets 
of  the  great  city,  to  enjoy  within  the 
shade  of  the  cedars  the  innocent  gayeties 
of  the  pic-nic,  find  to  breathe  the  pure 
air  which  blows  fresh  from  sea  and  land ; 
beyond,  on  the  opposite  shore,  crowded 
town  succeeds  town;  on  the  water  in 
front,  sail-boats  and  steamers  pass  and  re- 
pass  in  bus}^  but  peaceful  activity;  while 
everywhere  upon  the  island  is  a  calm 
landscape,  varied  with  hill  and  wooded 
vale,  and  dotted  with  low  cottage-roofs 
of  plain  farmers  and  imposing  villas  be 
longing  to  the  opulent  merchants  of  New 
York. 

44 


The  house  on  Ward's  point  was  then, 
when  visited  by  the  congressional  com 
mittee,  the  headquarters  of  Lord  Howe. 
It  had  been  the  habitation  of  military 
guards,  and  was  as  dirty  as  a  stable.  His 
lordship,  however,  had  prepared  to  do 
honor  to  his  distinguished  guests,  and 
had  accordingly  got  ready  a  large,  hand 
some  room,  by  spreading  a  carpet  of  moss 
and  green  sprigs,  from  bushes  and  shrubs 
in  the  neighborhood,  till  he  made  it  not 
only  wholesome,  but  romantically  elegant, 
and  entertained  his  visiters  with  "  good 
claret,  good  bread,  cold  harn,  tongues,  and 
mutton." 

While  thus  sharing  Lord  Howe's  hos 
pitality,  a  lively  conversation  took  place, 
in  the  course  of  which  his  lordship,  look 
ing  toward  Mr.  Adams,  expressed  in  warm 
terms  his  gratitude  to  the  state  of  Massa 
chusetts  for  erecting  a  marble  monument 
in  Westminster  abbey  to  his  elder  broth 
er,  Lord  Edward  Howe,  who  fell  at  Ti- 
conderoga  during  the  French  War.  "  He 
esteemed,  said  he,  that  honor  to  his  fam 
ily  above  all  things  in  this  world ;  and  that 
such  was  his  gratitude  and  affection  to 
this  country,  on  that  account,  that  he  felt 
for  America  as  for  a  brother;  and  if  Amer 
ica  should  fall,  he  should  feel  and  lament 
it  like  the  loss  of  a  brother."  Doctor 
Franklin,  "with  an  easy  air  and  a  collect 
ed  countenance,  a  bow,  a  smile,  and  all 
that  naivete  which  sometimes  appeared  in 
his  conversation,"  replied,  "  My  lord,  we 
will  do  our  utmost  endeavors  to  save 
your  lordship  that  mortification."  The 
earl's  sensibility  was  not  a  little  wound 
ed  by  this  unexpected  and  rather  rude 
shock;  but  he  merely  remarked,  with  his 


346 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


usual  courtesy,  "I  suppose  you  will  en 
deavor  to  give  us  employment  in  Eu 
rope." 

Lord  Howe  now  turned  the  conversa 
tion  toward  business,  and  began  by  say 
ing  that  he  could  confer  with  his  visiters 
not  as  members  of  Congress,  but  only  as 
private  gentlemen  and  British  subjects. 
Hereupon  Mr.  Adams  quickly  rejoined  : 
"Your  lordship  may  consider  me  in  what 
light  you  please;  and  indeed  I  should  be 
willing  to  consider  myself,  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  in  any  character  which  would  be 
agreeable  to  your  lordship,  except  that  of 
a  British  subject !"  At  these  words,  Lord 
Howe  turned  to  Doctor  Franklin  and  Mr. 
Rutledge,  and  said,  with  a  grave  arid  sol 
emn  air,  "  Mr.  Adams  is  a  decided  char 
acter." 

It  must  be  conceded  that  his  lordship 
was  in  a  fair  way  of  being  roughly  han 
dled  by  these  knotty  republicans.  He, 
however,  now  took  care  to  confine  him 
self  to  business,  and  not  expose  his  soft 
compliments  to  any  further  chance  of 
hard  usage.  The  earl  then  repeated,  in 
a  more  serious  tone,  that  he  could  not 
receive  the  committee  as  delegates  from 
Congress;  but  that,  as  his  powers  enabled 
him  to  confer  and  consult  with  any  pri 
vate  gentlemen  of  influence  in  the  colo 
nies,  on  the  means  of  restoring  peace  be 
tween  the  two  countries,  he  was  glad  of 
the  opportunity  of  conferring  with  those 
present  on  that  subject,  if  they  thought 
themselves  at  liberty  to  enter  into  a  con 
ference  with  him. 

The  committee  replied  that  their  busi 
ness  was  to  hear,  and  that  his  lordship 
might  consider  them  in  what  light  he 


pleased,  and  communicate  such  proposi 
tions  as  he  was  authorized  to  make;  but 
that  they  could  consider  themselves  in 
no  other  character  than  that  in  which 
they  were  placed  by  order  of  Congress. 

His  lordship  then  spoke  at  considera 
ble  length,  but  in  all  he  said  there  was 
nothing  but  this  which  could  be  regard 
ed  as  an  explicit  proposition  of  peace, 
namely,  that  the  colonies  should  return 
to  their  allegiance  and  obedience  to  the 
government  of  Great  Britain.  The  rest 
of  the  earl's  remarks  were  simply  assu 
rances  that  there  was  an  exceedingly 
good  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  king 
and  his  ministers  to  make  the  government 
easy  to  its  American  subjects;  and  that, 
in  case  of  their  submission,  the  offensive 
acts  of  Parliament  should  be  revised,  and 
the  instructions  to  the  governors  of  the 
several  provinces  be  reconsidered,  in  or 
der  that,  if  any  just  causes  of  complaint 
should  be  found,  they  might  be  removed. 

To  this  the  committee  replied  that  in 
their  opinion  a  return  to  the  domination 
of  Great  Britain  was  not  now  to  be  ex 
pected,  as  the  colonies  had  declared  them 
selves  independent  states,  and  it  was  not 
in  the  power  of  Congress  to  agree  for 
them  to  return  to  their  former  condition 
of  dependence.  There  was  no  doubt,  how 
ever,  they  said,  an  inclination  to  peace, 
and  a  willingness  to  enter  into  a  treaty 
with  Great  Britain,  which  might  be  ad 
vantageous  to  both  countries.  As  his 
lordship  had  at  present  no  power  to  treat 
with  them  as  independent  states, he  might 
(if  there  was  the  same  good  disposition 
on  the  part  of  the  British  government) 
much  sooner  obtain  fresh  powers  for  such 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


EVACUATION  OF  NEW  YORK. 


a  purpose,  than  could  be  obtained  by  Con 
gress  from  the  several  states,  to  consent 
to  a  submission. 

Lord  Howe,  then  remarking  that  he 
was  sorry  to  find  no  accommodation  was 
likely  to  take  place,  put  an  end  to  the 
conference.  The  committee,  therefore, 
took  leave  of  his  lordship,  and,  having 
passed  over  by  barge  to  Arnboy,  returned 
through  New  Jersey,  to  their  duties  in 
Congress. 

Sullivan's  mission  was  generally  con 
sidered  a  "fool's  errand."  Adams  expres 
ses  himself  emphatically  upon  this  point. 
He  says:  "The  conduct  of  General  Sulli 
van,  in  consenting  to  come  to  Philadel 
phia,  upon  so  confused  an  errand  from 
Lord  Howe — though  his  situation,  as  a 


prisoner,  was  a  temptation,  and  may  be 
considered  some  apology — appeared  to 
me  to  betray  such  a  want  of  penetration 
and  fortitude,  and  there  was  so  little  pre 
cision  in  the  information  he  communi 
cated,  that  I  felt  much  resentment,  and 
more  contempt,  on  the  occasion,  than  was 
perhaps  just.  The  time  was  extremely 
critical.  The  attention  of  Congress,  the 
army,  the  states,  and  the  people,  ought 
to  have  been  wholly  directed  to  the  de 
fence  of  the  country.  To  have  it  divert 
ed  and  relaxed,  by  such  a  poor  artifice 
and  confused  tale,  appeared  very  repre 
hensible." 

Washington  says  briefly  of  the  whole 
affair,  "  The  mode  of  negotiation  pursued 
by  Lord  Howe  I  did  not  approve  of." 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 


Evacuation  of  New  York  resolved  upon. — Hale,  the  American  Spy. — His  Life,  Character,  and  Fate. — The  Movement  of 
the  British  Ships  up  the  East  Kiver. — The  Americans  on  the  March  out  of  New  York. — Washington's  Headquarters. 
— The  Morris  Home. — The  Landing  of  the  Enemy. — The  Flight  of  the  Provincials.— Washington's  Indignation. — 
Putnam  and  the  Rear-Guard  in  Danger. — Aaron  Burr  comes  to  the  Rescue. — The  Enemy  too  late. — Escape  of  Put 
nam  and  his  Force. — The  British  arrive  in  Full  Strength. — An  Agreeable  but  Expensive  Visit. — "  Mrs.  Murray  saves 
the  American  Army." — The  British  take  Possession  of  New  York. — The  Action  on  the  Plains  of  Harlem. — Death  of 
Knowlton  and  Leitch. 


1776, 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON,  having  re 
ceived  a  despatch  on  the  12th  of 
September  from  President  Hancock,  sta 
ting  that  it  was  by  no  means  the  sense 
of  Congress  that  the  army  or  any  part  of 
it  should  remain  in  the  city  of  New  York 
a  moment  longer  than  he  should  think  it 
proper  for  the  public  service,  was  left  to 
act  according  to  his  own  judgment.  His 


opinion,  as  we  have  seen,  was  evidently 
in  favor  of  evacuating  the  town;  and  he 
was  now  confirmed  in  his  views  by  a  pe 
tition,  signed  by  seven  of  his  general  offi 
cers,  headed  by  General  Greene,  who 
urged  the  calling  of  a  council  of  war,  to 
decide  upon  such  action  as  the  circum 
stances  seemed  to  require.  A  council 
was  accordingly  summoned ;  and  it  was 


348 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Sept,  12, 


determined,  by  a  majority  of  ten 


out  of  the  thirteen  present,  that 
the  removal  of  the  army  was  not  only 
prudent,  but  absolutely  necessary,  as  they 
were  entirely  convinced,  from  a  full  and 
minute  inquiry  into  their  situation,  that 
it  was  extremely  perilous:  for  it  appeared 
from  every  movement  of  the  enemy,  and 
the  intelligence  received,  that  their  plan 
of  operations  was  to  get  in  the  rear  of 
the  Americans,  and,  by  cutting  off  the 
communication  with  the  mainland,  oblige 
them  to  force  a  passage  through  the  Brit 
ish  lines,  or  to  become  prisoners  in  some 
short  time,  for  want  of  necessary  supplies 
of  provisions. 

Anxious  to  have  more  explicit  infor 
mation  of  the  condition  and  the  intended 
movements  of  the  enemy,  it  was  deter 
mined  to  send  a  spy  into  the  British  camp 
on  Long  island.  Colonel  Knowlton  was 
requested  by  Washington  to  obtain  some 
one  from  his  regiment,  which  had  a  high 
character  for  its  daring,  to  undertake  this 
perilous  duty.  Captain  NATHAN  HALE,  a 
young  Connecticut  officer,  immediately 
volunteered  his  services,  and,  being  pro 
vided  by  Washington  with  an  order  to 
the  commanders  of  all  American  vessels 
to  convey  him  wherever  he  desired  to  go, 
set  out.  Crossing  the  sound, Hale  reached 
Huntington,  on  Long  island,  and  thence 
proceeded  to  the  British  camp,  where,  by 
skilfully  avoiding  suspicion,  he  gathered 
such  information  as  he  had  sought.  He 
now  returned  to  Huntington,  and  was 
about  recrossing  to  New  York,  when  he 
was  arrested  by  a  British  guard,  and,  be 
ing  taken  before  General  Howe  and  ex 
amined,  condemned  to  die.  When  Howe 


removed  his  headquarters  to  New  York, 
Hale  was  brought  over  from  Long  island 
and  confined  in  the  greenhouse  attached 
to  the  Beekman  mansion,  on  the  East 
river,  of  which  the  British  commander- 
in-chief  had  taken  possession  in  the  ab 
sence  of  its  patriotic  owner.  Hale  was 
treated  with  great  severity.  Pronounced 
guilty  without  the  form  of  a  trial,  he  was 
not  even  allowed  the  usual  privileges  of 
a  condemned  criminal.  His  bible  was 
taken  from  him,  the  presence  of  a  cler 
gyman  denied  him,  and  his  last  written 
words  to  his  mother  and  sisters  were  de 
stroyed.  He  was  led  out  to  be  hanged, 
and,  as  he  stood  beneath  the  fatal  tree,* 
he  said,  "  I  only  lament  that  I  have  but 
one  life  to  lose  for  my  country."  Hale 
was  young,  and  full  of  patriotic  enthusi 
asm.  He  had  left  Yale  college  but  three 
years  before,  and  had,  by  his  zeal  for 
study,  given  great  promise  of  distinction 
in  the  higher  walks  of  civil  life.  His  ar 
dent  temperament  was,  however,  greatly 
inflamed  by  the  wrongs  of  his  country ; 
and  when  the  Revolutionary  struggle  be 
gan,  he  threw  aside  his  books,  and  took 
up  the  sword  with  the  patriotic  resolute 
ness  of  a  young  Brutus. 

Four  ships-of-war,  two  of  forty  and  two 
of  twenty-eight  guns,  had  moved  up  the 
East  river,  and  anchored  about 
a  mile  above  the  city.  The  fort 
at  Governor's  island,  now  in  possession 
of  the  British,  kept  up  a  brisk  cannonade, 
and  the  ships  were  pouring  broadside 
after  broadside  upon  the  works  at  New 

*  "  He  was  hanged  upon  an  apple-tree  in  Rutgers'  or 
chard,  near  the  present  intersection  of  East  Broadway  and 
Market  street." — LOSSINQ. 


Sept.  13. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


REMOVING  STORES. 


340 


York,  as  they  sailed  with  a  gentle  breeze 
slowly  up  the  river.  The  Americans  re 
turned  the  fire,  and  Washington  was  ri 
ding  on  horseback  from  point  to  point, 
encouraging  the  cannonade.  As  he  was 
entering  one  of  the  forts,  a  ball  fell  within 
six  feet  of  his  horse ;  and  another  struck 
down  and  killed  with  one  blow  three  citi 
zens  who  were  looking  with  idle  curiosi 
ty  upon  the  scene.  General  Howe  had 
also  landed  a  considerable  body  of  his 
troops  upon  Buchanan's  and  Montressor's 
(now  Ward's  and  Randall's)  islands,  in  the 
East  river,  off  the  mouth  of  the  Harlem 
river. 

Six  more  of  the  enemy's  ships,  trans 
ports,  and  men-of-war,  now  joined  the 
other  British  vessels  in  the  East  river. 
Soon  an  express  came  hurriedly  to  Wash 
ington  at  his  headquarters,  with  word 
from  Colonel  Sargent  at  Horen's  Hook, 
that  the  enemy  had  crossed  with  large 
reinforcements  to  the  encampment  on 
Montressor's  island;  and  again,  immedi 
ately  after,  another  messenger  rode  in, 
with  a  despatch  from  General  Mifflin,  sta 
ting  that  he  discovered  "uncommon  and 
formidable  movements"  among  the  Brit 
ish  troops.  Washington  at  once  galloped 
to  Harlem  and  Morrisania,  where  he  sup 
posed  the  principal  attempt  to  land  would 
be  made.  Nothing,  however,  was  done 
until  next  day. 

In  the  meantime,  the  measures  deter 
mined  upon  by  the  council  of  war  were 
being  carried  out  with  all  possible  de 
spatch.  The  first  movement  was,  to  get 
the  sick,  the  ordnance,  the  stores,  and  the 
provisions,  safely  away  from  the  city. 
Colonel  Glover  and  his  ready-handed 


Marblehead  fishermen  were  especially 
employed  for  that  service.  The  work 
was  begun  late  at  night.  An  attack  from 
the  enemy  was  expected  every  moment. 
Some  five  hundred  sick  were,  however, 
safely  carried  over  the  river  to  New  Jer 
sey,  without  interruption,  before  sunrise 
next  morning.  On  the  following  day, 
Glover  with  his  active  brigade  was  back 
again  to  the  city,  at  work  from  morning 
until  late  at  night,  in  striking  the  tents 
and  carrying  the  heavy  stores  and  ord 
nance  to  the  water's  side,  ready  to  be 
transported  by  boats  up  the  North  river ; 
while  wagons  were  loaded  with  the  light 
baggage,  prepared  to  start  by  land.  The 
commander-in-chief  was  anxiously  await 
ing  the  result  of  Glover's  labors.  "I  fully 
expected,"  he  writes  on  the  14th  of  Sep 
tember,  "that  an  attack  somewhere  would 
be  made  last  night.  In  that  I  was  disap 
pointed  ;  and  happy  shall  I  be,  if  my  ap 
prehensions  of  one  to-night,  or  in  a  day 
or  two,  are  not  confirmed  by  the  event. 
If  it  is  deferred  a  little  while  longer,  I 
flatter  myself  all  will  be  got  away,  and 
our  force  be  more  concentrated,  and  of 
course  more  likely  to  resist  them  with 
success." 

Washington  had  already  moved  the 
main  body  of  his  army,  which 
had  been  principally  stationed 
along  Turtle  and  Kip's  bays  (leaving, how 
ever,  a  force  of  militia  to  guard  the  works 
at  those  points),  to  the  upper  part  of  the 
island.  General  Putnam  had  been  left 
with  four  thousand  men  within  the  city, 
as  a  rear-guard  to  protect  the  removal  of 
the  stores,  and  with  orders  to  close  up 
with  the  rest  of  the  army  whenever  he 


Sept,  13. 


350 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


should  find  it  necessary,  from  any  move 
ment  of  the  British. 

The  chief  himself  took  possession  of  the 
mansion  of  Colonel  Roger  Morris,  his  old 
companion-in-arms  under  Braddock,  and 
his  successful  rival  for  the  hand  of  the  rich 
Mary  Philipse.  Morris  had,  since  his  mar 
riage,  made  America  his  home,  and  had 
retired  to  his  beautiful  country-seat,  in 
the  enjoyment,  as  he  hoped,  of  a  secure 
retreat  for  life.  On  the  possession  of  the 
island  of  New  York  by  the  American  ar 
my,  however,  he  was  obliged  to  abandon 
his  home,  and  seek  safety  at  the  house  of 
his  brother-in-law,  Beverly  Robinson,  in 
the  Highlands. 

The  Morris  mansion  still  stands,  upon 
the  high  ground  which  rises  from  the 
marshy  margin  of  Harlem  river  ;  and,  not 
withstanding  the  ambitious  city  already 
claims  it  as  its  own,  and  fixes  it  with  nu 
merical  precision  in  "one  hundred  and 
sixty-ninth  street,"  it  yet  retains  in  its 
situation  much  of  its  former  picturesque 
beauty.  Standing  upon  the  heights  of 
Harlem,  it  commands  an  extensive  view 
of  land  and  water.  At  the  base  of  the 
hill  upon  which  the  house  is  built,  flows 
the  Harlem  river,  where  it  is  spanned  by 
the  High-bridge  aqueduct,  through  which 
runs  a  stream  (drunk  up  by  the  daily 
thirst  of  the  great  city)  more  copious 
than  the  whole  river  below !  Toward 
New  York  are  the  plains  of  Harlem,  up 
on  which  houses  now  are  crowded,  but 
which  then  were  green  meadows  and  not 
seldom  bloody  battle-fields.  Beyond,  to 
the  east,  is  the  sound,  now  enlivened  by 
steamboats  and  the  peaceful  sails  of  com 
merce,  but  then  gloomy  with  threatening 


men-of-war.  The  Morris  mansion  was 
then  all  astir  with  the  busy  activity  of  a 
commander-in-chief's  headquarters  :  it  is 
now  the  solitary  dwelling  of  an  eccentric 
Frenchwoman,*  the  widow  of  Aaron  Burr. 

The  American  chief's  apprehensions  of 
an  attack  were  proved  to  be  well  found 
ed.  Early  in  the  morning  which  succeed 
ed  the  night  when  he  had  been  hastily 
summoned  to  Harlem,  the  enemy  began 
their  operations.  Three  ships-of-war  sailed 
up  the  North  river  as  high  as  Blooming- 
dale,  and  thus  put  a  total  stop  to  the  re 
moval  (which  Colonel  Glover  from  an  ear 
ly  hour  had  begun)  of  the  heavy  baggage 
by  water.  As  the  day  advanced,  the  fleet 
in  the  East  river  began  also  with  a  most 
severe  and  heavy  cannonade  to  " scour 
the  country,"  and  thus  cover  the  landing 
of  a  large  body  of  British  troops. 

As  soon  as  he  caught  the  sound  of  the 
firing,  Washington  hurried  to  the  breast 
works  between  Turtle  bay  and  Kip's  bay, 
where  some  militia  had  been  left  to  guard 
them,  and  where  the  enemy  were  now 
landing.  He  found  to  his  "  great  surprise 
and  mortification"  the  troops  which  had 
been  posted  in  the  lines  retreating  with 
the  utmost  precipitation ;  and  Parsons' 
and  Fellows'  Connecticut  brigades,  which 
had  been  ordered  to  support  them,  flying 
in  every  direction  and  in  the  greatest  con 
fusion,  notwithstanding  the  exertions  of 
their  generals  to  form  them.  Washington 
rode  up,  and,  finding  his  own  attempts  to 
stop  the  fugitives  fruitless,  was  so  indig 
nant  at  their  cowardice,  that  he  drew  his 
sword,  threatened  to  run  them  through, 
and  cocked  and  snapped  his  pistols  at 

*  Madame  Jumcl. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WASHINGTON  IN  A  RAGE. 


351 


the  "scoundrels."  He  used  every  means 
in  his  power  to  rally  them,  but  his  efforts 
proved  ineffectual;  and  when  a  small  par 
ty  of  the  enemy,  not  more  than  sixty  or 
seventy,  made  their  appearance,  the  dis 
order  of  the  cravens  increased,  and  they 
continued  to  run  away,  without  firing  a 
single  shot,  leaving  Washington  himself 
in  so  hazardous  a  situation,  that  his  at 
tendants,  to  extricate  him,  caught  the 
bridle  of  his  horse  and  gave  him  a  differ 
ent  direction.  There  he  was,  within  eigh 
ty  yards  of  the  enemy,  "so  vexed,"  wrote 
General  Greene,  "  at  the  infamous  con 
duct  of  his  troops,  that  he  sought  death 
rather  than  life."  Washington  dashed 
his  hat  upon  the  ground,  and  cried  out, 
almost  in  despair,  as  he  beheld  the  flight 
of  his  soldiers,  "Are  these  the  men  with 
whom  I  am  to  defend  America!" 

The  cowardly  militia  continued  their 
headlong  scamper  across  the  island  until 
they  were  met  by  Colonel  Glover  with 
his  spirited  Marblehead  men  and  other 
troops,  who  had  been  suddenly  called 
away  from  their  works,  to  come  to  the 
defence  of  the  posts  on  the  eastern  part 
of  the  city.  The  fugitives,  encouraged  or 
shamed  by  the  presence  of  these  steady 
brigades  of  Glover,  now  halted,  and,  be 
ing  formed  in  rank,  marched  on  along  the 
Bloomingdale  road,  and  took  post  on  the 
heights  of  Harlem. 

Cheered  by  the  presence  of  the  more 
regular  troops,  the  militia  seemed  eager 
to  redeem  their  tarnished  valor,  and  would 
have  faced  about  at  once  to  attack  the 
approaching  British,  who  now  appeared, 
coming  up  in  large  force.  Washington 
at  first  encouraged  this  newly-awakened 


zeal,  and  ordered  them  to  give  battle  to 
the  enemy;  but,  after  a  moment's  reflec 
tion  upon  their  late  conduct,  he  natural 
ly  distrusted  their  courage,  and  counter 
manded  the  order. 

The  chief's  great  anxiety  was  now  for 
Putnam  and  his  rear-guard,  who  were  still 
within  New  York,  and  in  imminent  dan 
ger  of  being  hemmed  in  by  the  enemy, 
as  they  thronged  upon  the  shore,  and 
prepared  to  stretch  their  lines  across  the 
island.  Washington  immediately  sent  an 
express  to  Putnam,  ordering  him  to  hast 
en  away  from  his  perilous  position  ;  and, 
fearful  lest  the  British  might  pass  over 
from  the  East  river  to  Harlem  plains,  and 
cut  off  the  retreat  of  that  part  of  the  ar 
my  still  in  the  city,  he  ordered  the  heights 
of  Harlem  to  be  secured  in  the  best  man 
ner  by  the  troops  which  were  stationed 
on  or  near  them. 

Putnam,  finding  that  the  enemy  had 
landed  and  taken  possession  of  the  main 
roads  which  led  from  the  city  to  the  up 
per  part  of  the  island  where  Washington 
had  extended  his  lines,  was  greatly  per 
plexed  to  discover  a  means  of  escape. 
His  aid-de-camp,  Major  Aaron  Burr,  ob 
serving  the  perplexity  of  Putnam  and 
his  general  officers,  and  being  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  ground,  suggested  a 
road  which  led  along  the  North  river 
from  Greenwich  to  Bloomingdale.  Put 
nam  now  hurriedly  abandoned  the  city, 
leaving  in  his  necessary  haste  most  of  the 
heavy  cannon  and  a  part  of  the  stores 
and  provisions  which  had  been  got  ready 
for  removal.  Taking  the  road  suggested 
by  Burr,  the  troops  were  urged  on  to  a 
rapid  march.  Putnam  would  allow  of  no 


352 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


flagging;  and  he  himself  was  flying  about 
on  his  horse,  covered  with  foam,  and  stir 
ring  up  the  energies  of  the  whole  column. 
The  day  was  stifling  hot;  the  road  was 
in  a  continued  cloud  of  dust;  a  large  num 
ber  of  women  and  children,  who  had  fol 
lowed  the  troops  out  of  the  city,  embar 
rassed  the  march,  and  the  men  suffered 
greatly;  but  "Old  Put,"  by  his  own  per 
sonal  exertions,  infused  such  a  spirit  of 
activity  into  his  men,  that  they  moved 
on  rapidly  in  spite  of  every  obstacle. 

They  were  just  turning  into  a  cross- 
path  which  led  from  Bloomingdale  to 
Harlem,  when  an  aid-de-camp  rode  up  to 
Putnam  in  full  speed,  to  inform  him  that 
a  column  of  British  infantry  was  coming 
up  against  his  right  flank.  The  order  for 
the  troops  to  file  to  the  right  with  all 
speed  was  hardly  given,  when  the  enemy 
came  within  firing  distance  of  Putnam's 
rear  and  opened  a  volley.  One  of  the 
colonels  fell  at  the  first  shot.  Some  sev 
enteen  men  were  killed  and  three  hun 
dred  taken  prisoners.  With  no  other  loss, 
the  troops  succeeded  just  at  nightfall  in 
reaching  the  American  lines  at  Harlem 
heights. 

Putnam's  escape  was,  however,  due  to 
a  fortunate  incident,  which  shows  how 
great  events  may  often  be  traced  to  the 
most  trifling  causes.  The  British  troops 
had  landed  in  large  force,  and  to  the  num 
ber  of  some  eight  thousand  were  stretch 
ing  across  the  island.  Having  put  to  flight 
the  militia  who  had  so  ignominiously  de 
serted  their  posts  at  Turtle  and  Kip's  bays, 
the  enemy  halted  temporarily  before  ex 
tending  their  lines  as  they  designed,  and 
by  which  they  would  have  certainly  cut 


off  Putnam's  retreat.  The  day,  as  before 
observed,  was  hot,  and  the  British  gener 
als  were  thirsty:  so  Governor  Tryon,  well 
acquainted  with  the  ground,  volunteered 
to  guide  them  to  a  place  where  good  re 
freshments  might  be  secured.  He  accord 
ingly  took  them  to  the  country-house  of 
a  Mr.  Robert  Murray,  a  patriotic  Quaker, 
who  lived  on  Murray  hill,  near  by.  On 
entering,  they  were  met,  in  the  absence 
of  her  husband,  by  the  wife,  who  cour 
teously  received  her  visiters,  and  offered 
them  the  best  cheer  she  had.  Wine  and 
cake  were  served  up  in  abundance ;  and 
the  thirsty  and  gallant  British  officers, 
gratified  with  the  good  Madeira,  and 
charmed  with  the  courtesies  of  their  host 
ess,  were  disposed  to  linger.  Tryon  was 
in  the  most  jovial  humor,  as  the  morn 
ing's  work  so  far  had  been  a  great  suc 
cess ;  and  he  was  particularly  pleasant 
when  bantering  Mrs.  Murray,  who  was  a 
devoted  patriot,  upon  the  conduct  of  her 
American  friends. 

Hour  after  hour  was  passed  delight 
fully.  While  Mrs.  Murray  was  thus  suc 
cessful  in  entertaining  her  British  guests, 
she  was  saving  her  American  friends;  for 
while  Tryon  was  joking  the  hostess,  and 
Clinton  and  his  officers  were  drinking  her 
wine,  their  troops  were  resting  on  their 
arms,  and  giving  Putnam  and  his  men— 
\vho  were  only  a  mile  from  them — an 
opportunity  of  escape.  It  was  ever  after 
the  remark  in  the  patriot  camp  that  "Mrs. 
Murray  saved  the  American  army." 

The  British  now  took  possession  of  the 
city  with  a  large  detachment  of  troops 
under  General  Kobertson;  while  the  main 
body  of  the  army,  under  General  Howef 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  HARLEM. 


353 


encamped  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 
The  line  which  bounded  the  British  camp 
at  the  north  extended  from  Horen's  Hook 
on  the  East  river,  across  the  island  to 
Bloomingdale  on  the  Hudson,  and  was  at 
once  protected  by  breastworks  and  bat 
teries.  Behind  were  posted  a  strong  body 
of  Hessians,  under  De  Heister,  and  anoth 
er  of  British,  under  Earl  Percy ;  while 
each  flank,  on  the  right  and  the  left  of 
this  large  body  of  troops,  was  protected  by 
the  English  men-of-war,  at  anchor  in  both 
rivers  which  bound  the  island.  Harlem 
plains  spread  for  more  than  a  mile  in 
width  between  the  British  and  the  en 
campment  of  Washington's  army.  The 
former  numbered  nearly  twenty-five  thou 
sand,  while  the  latter  had  not  more  than 
fourteen  thousand  fit  for  duty,  so  reduced 
were  the  American  troops  by  sickness 
and  desertion. 

The  front  line  of  the  Americans  em 
braced  the  heights  of  Harlem,  which  ex 
tend  from  the  river  of  that  name  to  the 
Hudson.  About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  be 
yond,  to  the  north,  was  another  line  ;  and 
about  the  same  distance  still  beyond  was 
Washington's  headquarters  at  the  Morris 
mansion.  Again,  at  the  distance  of  a 
mile  farther  to  the  north,  stood  Fort 
Washington,  on  the  North  river,  held  by 
a  strong  garrison  of  Americans.  King's 
bridge,  which  crossed  the  Harlem  river 
at  the  most  northern  part  of  the  island, 
some  eight  miles  from  the  city,  and  was 
the  only  communication  with  the  main 
land,  was  also  defended  by  a  detachment 
of  Washington's  troops. 

The  Americans,  however,  had  posted 
two  advanced  guards  of  considerable  force 
45 


Sept,  16. 


between  their  front  and  that  of  the  Brit 
ish —  one  at  M'Gowan's  pass,  and  the  oth 
er  at  Harlem.  The  former  was  command 
ed  by  Putnam  and  the  latter  by  Spencer. 

The  enemy  were  not  long  in  making  a 
demonstration.  Washington  was  expect 
ing  an  attack,  and  wrote  these 
words :  "  We  are  now  encamped 
with  the  main  body  of  the  army  on  the 
heights  of  Harlem,  where  I  should  hope 
the  enemy  would  meet  with  a  defeat  in 
case  of  an  attack,  if  the  generality  of  our 
troops  could  behave  with  tolerable  brave 
ry.  But  experience,  to  my  extreme  af 
fliction,  has  convinced  me  that  this  is 
rather  to  be  wished  for  than  expected. 
However,  I  trust  that  there  are  many 
who  will  act  like  men,  and  show  them 
selves  worthy  of  the  blessings  of  free 
dom."  The  letter  which  contained  this 
sentence  had  just  been  despatched  by  the 
post,  when  word  was  brought  that  the 
enemy  had  appeared  in  several  large  bod 
ies  upon  the  plains  of  Harlem.  Washing 
ton  immediately  galloped  from  his  head 
quarters  to  the  advanced  posts,  a  distance 
of  about  two  and  a  half  miles,  and  dis 
covered  that  a  small  company  of  Con 
necticut  rangers,  under  the  brave  Colonel 
Knowlton,  were  already  engaged  with  an 
advanced  party  of  the  enemy,  who  were 
reported  to  be  only  three  hundred  strong. 

Washington  now  ordered  Major  Leitch, 
with  three  companies  of  Weedon's  Vir 
ginia  regiment,  to  advance  to  the  aid  of 
Knowlton  ;  and  directed  that  they  should 
try  to  get  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy,  while 
they  made  a  feint  of  attacking  them  in 
front.  The  last  part  of  the  order  was 
faithfully  obeyed  ;  and  the  British,  seeing 


354 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


the  Americans  in  considerable  force  com 
ing  directly  upon  them  as  they  supposed, 
ran  down  the  hill  and  took  possession  of 
some  fences  and  bushes,  under  the  cover 
of  which  they  stood  and  began  a  smart 
fire,  but  with  little  execution,  as  they  were 
at  such  a  distance.  The  Americans  now 
made  a  circuit  as  they  advanced,  but  com 
menced  their  attack  too  soon,  and  thus 
made  it  rather  in  flank  than  in  rear.  A 
severe  engagememt  ensued,  and  Major 
Leitch  fell  almost  immediately,  severely 
wounded  with  three  balls  in  his  side,  and 
was  carried  off  the  field.  He  was  soon 
followed  by  Colonel  Knowlton,  who  had 
been  shot  through  the  head. 

The  men,however,  persevered,and  con 
tinued  the  engagement  with  the  greatest 
resolution.  Washington,find  ing  that  they 
wanted  a  support,  advanced  some  of  the 
Maryland  and  New-England  troops  at 
hand  to  their  aid.  These  charged  the 
enemy  with  great  intrepidity,  and  drove 
them  from  the  wood  where  they  had 
sought  a  cover,  into  the  plain ;  and  had 
succeeded  in  nearly  silencing  their  fire, 
when  Washington,  expecting  that  large 
reinforcements  would  be  sent  to  the  aid 
of  the  British,  withdrew  his  troops. 

Colonel  Knowlton  died  of  his  wounds 
soon  after  the  engagement ;  and,  "  when 
gasping  in  the  agonies  of  death,  all  his 


Sept,  17. 


inquiry  was  whether  we  had  driven  in 
the  enemy."  He  was  "a  brave  and  a 
good  officer,"  said  Washington  in  one  of 
his  letters ;  and  in  the  order  of  the  day 
he  did  not  forget  to  do  public  honor  to 
his  gallantry,  as  well  as  to  that  of  Major 
Leitch  and  all  their  brave  soldiers :  "  The 
general  most  heartily  thanks  the 
troops  commanded  yesterday  by 
Major  Leitch  who  first  advanced  upon 
the  enemy,  and  the  others  who  so  reso 
lutely  supported  them.  The  behavior  of 
yesterday  was  such  a  contrast  to  that  of 
some  troops  the  day  before,  as  must  show 
what  may  be  done  where  officers  and  sol 
diers  exert  themselves.  Once  more,  there 
fore,  the  general  calls  upon  officers  and 
men  to  act  up  to  the  noble  cause  in  which 
they  are  engaged,  and  to  support  the  hon 
or  and  liberties  of  their  country.  The 
gallant  and  brave  Colonel  Knowlton,  who 
would  have  been  an  honor  to  any  coun 
try,  having  fallen  yesterday  while  glori 
ously  fighting,  Captain  Brown  is  to  take 
the  command  of  the  party  lately  led  by 
Colonel  Knowlton." 

The  name  of  Leitch  was  given  as  the 
parole  for  the  next  day  ;*  but  the  hero 
who  bore  it  only  lived  for  a  short  time 
to  enjoy  the  good  fame  he  had  acquired 
by  his  gallant  conduct. 

*  Irviug. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


NEW  YORK  ON  FIRE. 


355 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

New  York  on  Fire. — Who  were  the  Incendiaries? — The  British  Accounts. — The  Ravage. — "Our  General." — His  own 
Account  of  the  Enterprise  against  Montressor's  Island. — A  Failure. — Reorganization  of  the  American  Army. — Wash 
ington  urges  the  Enactment  of  more  Rigorous  Laws. — Congress  slowly  consents. — Inactivity  of  General  Howe. — The 
Abounding  Tories. — Oliver  Delancey. — His  Life  and  Character. — His  Influence. — Plans  to  counteract  it. — Major 
Rogers  and  his  Rangers. — His  Career. — His  Cunning. — The  Americans  eager  to  catch  Him. 


1776, 


IN  the  middle  of  the  night  of  the 
20th  of  September,  the  guards  on 
the  advanced  pickets  of  the  American 
line  beheld  a  great  light  in  the  direction 
of  the  city,  apparently  rising  at  a  distance 
of  nine  miles.  Soon  it  became  so  intense 
and  wide  spread,  that  "  for  a  considerable 
extent  the  heavens  appeared  in  flames."* 
It  was  thought  that  New  York  was  on 
fire.  This  supposition  was  confirmed  on 
the  arrival  in  camp  next  day  of  one  of 
the  aid-de-camps  of  General  Howe,  with 
a  flag,  and  a  letter  to  Washington  in  re 
gard  to  the  exchange  which  was  about 
being  arranged  for  General  Sullivan,  Lord 
Stirling,  and  Daniel  Morgan,  then  held 
as  prisoners  by  the  British.  The  aid-de 
camp  spoke  of  the  great  extent  of  the 
conflagration  in  the  city,  and  stated  that 
several  Americans  had  been  punished 
with  death  as  incendiaries,  some  by  hang 
ing,  and  others  by  burning  on  the  spot, 
who  were  caught  in  the  act. 

A  number  of  incendiaries,  according  to 
the  British  accounts,  had  stayed  behind, 
on  the  evacuation  of  New  York  by  Wash 
ington,  and  concealed  themselves  in  the 
houses.  Combustibles  had  been  careful 
ly  prepared ;  and,  taking  advantage  of  a 

*  Gray don. 


brisk  gale  of  wind,  these  desperadoes  be 
gan  their  work  about  midnight,  when 
most  of  the  citizens  and  troops  were  bu 
ried  in  sleep.  But  when  the  spreading 
flames  gave  the  alarm,  the  soldiers  were 
beat  to  quarters,  detachments  of  sailors 
from  the  fleet  were  landed,  and,  after  a 
hard  struggle,  the  fire  was  stayed,  though 
not  before  it  had  reduced  nearly  a  third 
part  of  the  fair  city  to  ruins.  It  was 
then  that  some  of  the  incendiaries  were 
"caught  in  the  act,"  and  were  either  de 
spatched  by  the  sword  or  bayonet,  or 
thrown  into  the  flames  which  "  they  had 
kindled"  by  the  "  infuriated  soldiery."  In 
furiated  soldiers  are  not  apt  to  be  very 
calm  investigators  of  a  charge  of  crime, 
when  the  suspected  persons  chance  to  be 
long  to  the  enemy.  Fortunately,  there 
were  other  less  partial  observers,  whose 
testimony  is  much  more  satisfactory  and 
convincing.  They  all  agree  in  attribu 
ting  the  conflagration  to  accident. 

C5  O 

The  fire  was  discovered  about  midnight, 
first  breaking  out  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
city,  near  the  wharf  of  Whitehall,  in  a 
small  wooden  building,  a  miserable  pot 
house  and  brothel,  resorted  to  by  sailors. 
Most  of  the  houses  were  either  of  wood 
or  of  brick  covered  with  shingles;  the 


356 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_FART    II. 


weather  had  been  dry  for  a  long  time, 
and  on  the  night  of  the  fire  a  brisk  south 
wind  was  blowing.  Few  citizens  had  been 
left  in  town ;  and  the  fire-engines,  pumps, 
and  leathern  buckets,  were  either  out  of 
order  from  neglect,  or  not  readily  to  be 
got  at  or  worked  from  the  absence  of  those 
who  knew  where  to  find  or  how  to  use 
them.    The  flames  spread  rapidly,  licking 
up  house  after  house  along  the  narrow 
streets,  and,  stirred  by  the  blast  of  the 
strong  southerly  wind,  went  on  ravaging 
in  every  direction.    Whitehall  and  Broad 
streets  were  soon  in  ruins,  and  then  Bea 
ver;  finally  Broadway  was  swept  from 
left  to  right ;  the  old  church  of  Trinity,* 
erected  at  the  beginning  of  the  century, 
caught,  and  was  left  in  a  short  time  a  gut 
ted  ruin  from  the  pinnacle  of  its  tall  spire 
to  the  lowest  step  of  its  porch ;  the  fire 
raged  on,  and  the  "new"  church  of  St. 
Paul  was  in  peril.     Now,  however,  the 
sailors  from  Lord  Howe's  fleet  and  the 
soldiers  from  the  camp,  turning  out  at 
beat  of  drum  from  their  night-quarters, 
came  to  the  rescue.     The  fire  at  length 
was  stayed,  but  not  before  nearly  five 
hundred  houses  were  laid  in  ashes.  Wash 
ington,  in  speaking  of  the  fire,  says,  "  By 
what  means  it  happened  we  do  not  know." 
Even  if  it  were  the  act  of  American  in 
cendiaries,  it  is  clear  that  it  was  without 
authority,  for  it  had  been  resolved  by  the 
council  of  war  to  leave   the  city  unin 
jured. 

The  American  army  had  been  much 

*  "Among  the  buildings  consumed,"  says  an  English  au- 
;hority,  "was  the  old  English  church.  When  the  Ameri 
cans  stationed  at  Paulas'  Hook  [now  Jersey  City]  saw  the 
Ueeple  fall,  they  gave  three  cheers,  probably  rejoicing  in  a 
double  sense,  and  more  as  Presbyterians  than  as  patriots." 


Sept,  22 


encouraged  by  the  spirited  conduct  and 
partial  success  of  their  comrades  under 
the  gallant  leadership  of  Knowlton  and 
Leitch.  The  soldiers  found  it  required 
only  "  resolution  and  good  officers  to 
make  an  enemy  they  stood  too  much  in 
dread  of"  give  way. 

Thus  inspirited,  the  Americans  began 
to  be  eager  for  an  opportunity  to  distin 
guish  themselves.  General  Heath,  who 
boasted  himself  quite  a  tactician,  found 
an  occasion  for  the  vent  of  some  of  the 
abounding  martial  spirit  of  his  troops. 
We  shall  let  "  our  general,"  as  he  calls 
himself,  describe  the  occurrence  :  "  Two 
seamen,  belonging  to  the  La  Brune,  a 
British  ship-of-war,  which  lay  near  Mon- 
tressor's  [Randall's]  island,  deserted  and 
came  to  our  general's  [Heath's] 
quarters,  and  informed  him  up 
on  examination  that  the  British  had  then 
but  a  few  men  on  the  island,  stating  the 
number ;  that  the  piece  of  cannon,  which 
had  been  put  on  the  island,  was  taken 
back  again  on  board  the  La  Brune  ;  that 
there  were  a  number  of  officers  at  the 
house,  in  which  there  was  a  considerable 
quantity  of  baggage  deposited,  &c. 

"  Our  general  [Heath]  supposed  that 
these  troops  might  be  easily  taken ;  and 
having  called  the  general  officers  of  his 
division  together,  took  their  opinion,  who 
all  coincided  with  him  in  sentiment.  He 
then  communicated  his  intention  to  the 
commander-in-chief,  who  gave  it  his  ap 
probation.  Two  hundred  and  forty  men 
were  destined  for  this  enterprise.  The 
command  was  given  to  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Michael  Jackson,  of  the  Massachu 
setts  line,  with  Majors  Logan  and  - 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


"OUR  GENERAL." 


357 


(whose  name  can  not  be  recollected ),* 
of  the  New- York  troops.  They  were 
to  embark  on  board  three  flat-boats,  cov 
ered  by  a  fourth  with  a  detachment  of 
artillery,  with  a  light  three-pounder,  in 
case  it  should  be  found  necessary  in  re 
treating  from  the  island.  The  mode  of 
attack  was  settled,  and  every  circum 
stance  seemed  to  promise  success.  They 
were  to  fall  down  Harlem  creek  with  the 
ebb.  The  time  was  so  calculated,  that  the 
young  flood  was  to  be  so  much  made  at 
the  break  of  day  as  to  cover  the  flats  at 
the  island  sufficiently  for  the  boats  to  float. 
"  Matters  being  thus  settled,  our  gen 
eral  ordered  the  two  sailors  to  be  brought 
in.  He  then  told  them  that,  in  conse 
quence  of  their  information,  an  enterprise 
against  the  British  troops  on  Montressor's 
island  was  to  take  place  that  night ;  that 
he  had  ordered  them  to  be  kept  in  safe 
custody  until  the  next  morning,  when,  if 
their  declarations  respecting  the  state  of 
the  British  on  the  island  proved  to  be 
true,  he  would  give  them  a  passport  to 
the  back  country,  whither  they  wished 
to  iro  :  but.  in  case  their  information  was 

O         I 

false,  he  would  order  them  hanged  imme 
diately  as  spies ;  that  he  gave  them  the 
opportunity,  if  they  had  made  a  wrong 
statement  to  him,  then  to  correct  it. 
They  both  answered,  with  perfect  com 
posure,  that  they  would  cheerfully  sub 
mit  to  the  condition. 

"  Major  Thomas  Henley  was  now  one 
of  our  general's  aids-de-camp.  He  impor 
tuned  that  he  might  go  with  the  detach 
ment.  He  was  refused,  and  told  that  he 
had  no  business  there  ;  that  he  could  ex- 

*  Such  is  fame  ! 


ercise  no  command.  He  grew  quite  im 
patient,  returned  again  to  the  general's 
room,  and  addressed  him  :  '  Pray,  sir,  con 
sent  to  my  going  with  the  party  ;  let  me 
have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  the  pris 
oners  to  you  to-morrow.'  All  his  friends 
present  advised  him  not  to  go.  The  gen 
eral  finally  consented. 

"  The  troops,  at  the  hour  assigned,  em 
barked.  Our  general  informed  them  that 
he,  with  others,  would  be  spectators  of 
the  scene,  from  a  certain  point  near  Har 
lem  creek.  Notice  had  been  given  to  the 
guards  and  pickets  on  the  York-island  side, 
not  to  hail  the  party  as  they  went  down. 
Unfortunately,  the  lower  sentinel  had  not 
been  so  instructed.*  He  was  nearly  oppo 
site  to  the  point  where  our  general  was 
to  be ;  and  just  at  the  instant  when  he 
arrived,  had  challenged  the  boats,  and  or 
dered  them  to  come  to  the  shore.  From 
the  boats  they  answered, 'Lo !  we  are 
friends.'  The  challenge  was  repeated. 
The  answer  was,  'We  tell  you  we  are 
friends  —  hold  your  tongue  !'  A  bounce 
into  the  water  was  heard ;  and  instantly 
Major  Henley  came  wading  to  the  shore., 
stepped  up  to  our  general,  catched  him 
by  the  hand,  and  said, '  Sir,  will  it  do  ?' 
Our  general,  holding  him  by  the  hand, 
replied, '  I  see  nothing  to  the  contrary ;' 
to  which  Henley  concluded  by  saying, 
'  Then  it  shall  do?  He  waded  back  to  his 
boat,  and  got  in.  The  sentinel  called 
again:  'If  you  don't  come  to  the  shore, 
I  tell  you  I'll  fire !'  A  voice  from  some 
one  in  the  boats  was,  '  Pull  away  ? 

*  It  is  well  for  history,  that  an  occasional  simple-minded 
and  truthful  chronicler  like  Heath  presents  himself,  who  not 
onlv  tells  us  what  he  did,  but  what  he  ought  to  have  done. 


358 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


"  The  boats  went  on,  and  the  sentinel 
fired  his  piece.  The  boats  reached  the 
island  almost  at  the  moment  intended, 
just  as  the  glimmer  of  the  dawn  was  dis 
coverable.  The  three  field-officers  were 
in  the  first  boat.  Their  intention,  on  the 
moment  of  landing,  was,  for  the  two  sec 
onds  in  command  to  spring,  the  one  to 
the  right  and  the  other  to  the  left,  and 
lead  on  the  troops  from  the  other  two 
boats,  which  were  to  land  on  each  side 
of  the  first  boat.  The  field-officers  land 
ed,  and  the  men  from  the  boat.  The  en 
emy's  guard  charged  them,  but  were  in 
stantly  driven  back.  The  men  in  the 
other  two  boats,  instead  of  landing,  lay 
upon  their  oars  !  The  British,  seeing  this, 
returned  warmly  to  the  charge.  The 
Americans,  finding  themselves  thus  de 
serted,  returned  to  their  boat ;  but  not  un 
til  Lieutenant-Colonel  Jackson  received 
a  musket-ball  in  his  leg,  and  Major  Hen 
ley,  as  he  was  getting  into  the  boat,  one 
through  his  heart,  which  put  an  instant 
end  to  his  life.  The  boat  joined  the  oth 
ers,  and  they  all  returned,  having  in  the 
whole  about  fourteen  killed,  wounded, 
and  missing ;  Major  Henley  deeply  re 
gretted."* 

Washington  was  fully  convinced,  not 
withstanding  an  occasional  spirt  of  spirit, 
that  an  entire  reorganization  of  the  army 
was  necessary,  in  order  to  give  it  that  effi 
ciency  required  to  sustain  a  struggle  with 
disciplined  troops.  The  term  of  service 
of  almost  every  man  was  to  close  in  about 
three  mouths,  and  Washington  believed 
that  it  would  be  impossible  to  induce  them 
to  re-enlist  without  higher  pay.  "  We 

*  Heath's  Memoirs,  pp.  63-66. 


are  now,"  he  writes  to  Congress, 


Sept,  24, 


"  as  it  were  upon  the  eve  of  an 
other  dissolution  of  our  army.  The  re 
membrance  of  the  difficulties  which  hap 
pened  upon  the  occasion  last  year,  and 
the  consequences  which  might  have  fol 
lowed  the  change  if  proper  advantages 
had  been  taken  by  the  enemy,  added  to 
a  knowledge  of  the  present  temper  and 
situation  of  the  troops,  afford  but  a  very 
gloomy  prospect  in  the  appearance  of 
things  now,  and  satisfy  me,  beyond  the 
possibility  of  doubt,  that  unless  some 
speedy  and  effectual  measures  are  adopt 
ed  by  Congress,  our  cause  will  be  lost." 

It  was  useless,  thought  Washington,  to 
rely  upon  patriotism  for  the  recruiting  of 
an  army.  When  men  are  irritated,  and 
their  passions  are  inflamed,  they  hastily 
and  cheerfully  fly  to  arms  ;  but  when  the 
first  ebullition  of  feeling  has  subsided,  to 
"  expect  among  such  people  as  compose 
the  bulk  of  an  army,  that  they  are  influ 
enced  by  any  other  principles  than  those 
of  interest,  is  to  look  for  what  never  did 
and  I  fear  never  will  happen." 

The  army  should  be  established  upon 
a  permanent  footing,  and  the  officers  be 
well  paid,  in  order  to  induce  gentlemen 
and  men  of  character  to  engage  iu  the 
service.  "They  ought  to  have  such  al 
lowances,"  continues  Washington,  "as  will 
enable  them  to  live  like  and  support  the 
character  of  gentlemen,  and  not  be  driven 
by  a  scanty  pittance  to  the  low  and  dirty 
arts  which  many  of  them  .practise."  He 
also  contends  that  nothing  but  a  good 
bounty  (as,  for  example,  a  hundred  acres 
of  land,  with  a  suit  of  clothes,  &c.,  to  each 
man)  can  secure  permanent  soldiers. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LAWLESS  SOLDIERS. 


659 


The  officers,  too,  should  stand  by  char 
acter  and  social  position  in  such  a  rela 
tion  toward  the  privates  as  to  secure  their 
respect  and  obedience.  "  But  while,"  em 
phatically  writes  Washington,  "  the  only 
merit  an  officer  possesses  is  his  ability  to 
raise  men  —  while  those  men  consider  and 
treat  him  as  an  equal,  and,  in  the  charac 
ter  of  an  officer,  regard  him  no  more  than 
a  broomstick,  being  mixed  together  as 
one  common  herd  —  no  order  nor  disci 
pline  can  prevail." 

As  for  placing  any  dependence  upon 
militia,  it  is  "  assuredly  resting  upon  a 
broken  staff  Men  just  dragged  from  the 
tender  scenes  of  domestic  life,  unaccus 
tomed  to  the  din  of  arms,  totally  unac 
quainted  with  every  kind  of  military 
skill,  are  timid,  and  ready  to  fly  from 
their  own  shadows." 

Some  more  severe  laws  for  the  govern 
ment  of  the  army  are  necessary,  or  else 
"  but  for  the  name,"  says  Washington,  "  it 
might  as  well  be  abandoned The  infa 
mous  practice  of  plundering"  began  to  pre 
vail  to  the  most  alarming  extent.  "Un 
der  the  idea  of  tory  property,  or  property 
that  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  ene 
my,  no  man  is  secure  in  his  effects,  and 
scarcely  in  his  person."  The  lawless  sol 
diers  would  frighten  quiet  citizens  out  of 
their  houses,  under  pretence  that  it  had 
been  ordered  to  burn  them,  and  then  en 
ter  and  seize  the  goods !  Washington 
strove  to  stop  these  horrid  practices,  but 
with  "  the  lust  after  pi  under,  and  the  want 
of  laws  to  punish  offenders,"  he  might,  he 
declares,  "  almost  as  well  attempt  to  move 
Mount  Atlas."  To  illustrate  the  difficulty 
of  checking  these  crimes,  he  sends  to  Con 


gress  the  proceedings  of  a  court-martiaJ 
which  had  acquitted  an  officer  who  with 
a  party  of  men  had  robbed  a  house,  a  lit 
tle  beyond  the  American  lines,  of  a  quan 
tity  of  valuable  property.  This  consist 
ed,  among  other  things,  of  four  large  pier 
looking-glasses,  some  women's  clothes, 
and  a  variety  of  articles  which  could  be 
of  no  possible  use  to  officer  or  soldier, 
certainly,  in  their  military  capacity.  A 
major  of  brigade,  meeting  the  rogues, 
loaded  down  with -their  booty,  ordered 
the  officer  at  the  head  of  the  party  to  re 
turn  the  property ;  whereupon  that  mili 
tary  vagabond  drew  up  his  men  for  a 
fight,  and  swore  that  he  would  defend  his 
possession  of  pier-glasses,  women's  petti 
coats,  and  all,  at  the  hazard  of  his  life ! 
Though  this  fellow  escaped  on  his  first 
trial,  Washington,  by  ordering  a  recon 
sideration  of  the  matter,  and  obtaining 
fresh  evidence,  made  a  shift  finally  to 
cashier  him. 

These  views  of  the  command er-in-chief, 
when  laid  before  Congress,  made  a  strong 
impression.  So  great,  however,  was  the 
dread  of  a  standing  army,  that  it  was  only 
after  a  long  debate,  during  more  than  a 
fortnight,  that  the  resolution  was  passed 
to  reform  the  army  into  eighty-eight  bat 
talions,  "  to  be  enlisted  as  soon  as  possi 
ble,  and  to  serve  during  the  war."  Wash 
ington's  suggestions,  too,  in  regard  to  the 
appointment  of  officers,  their  pay,  and  that 
of  the  soldiers,  were,  for  the  most  part, 
adopted.* 

*  To  encourage  enlistments,  a  bounty  of  twenty  dollars 
and  of  one  hundred  acres  of  land  was  offered  to  each  non 
commissioned  officer  and  soldier.  The  commissioned  offi 
cers  were  also  to  receive  bounties  of  land  in  the  following 
proportions  :  a  colonel,  five  hundred  acres ;  lieutenant-cold 


360 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Washington,  thoroughly  conscious  of 
his  weakness  from  the  disorganized  con 
dition  of  his  army,  which  must  be  known 
to  the  enemy,  was  surprised  at  the  inac 
tivity  of  Howe.  That  general,  however, 
remained  within  his  lines,  without  making 
a  movement  for  nearly  three  weeks.  The 
American  commander,  in  the  meantime, 
was  strengthening  his  position  by  means 
of  redoubts,  breastworks,  and  abattis,  and 
presented  a  front  which  the  British  evi 
dently  deemed  formidable ;  for  General 
Howe  (now  Sir  William,  as  he  had  been 
created  a  knight  for  his  Long-island  vic 
tory)  wrote  to  the  ministry  in  England : 
"  The  enemy  is  too  strongly  posted  to  be 
attacked  in  front,  and  immeasurable  diffi 
culties  are  in  our  way  of  turning  him  on 
either  side,  though  his  army  is  much  dis 
pirited  from  the  late  success  of  his  majes 
ty's  arms;  yet  have  I  not  the  smallest 
prospect  of  finishing  the  combat  this  cam 
paign,  nor  until  the  rebels  see  prepara 
tions  in  the  spring  that  may  preclude  all 
thoughts  of  further  resistance.  To  this 
end  I  would  propose  eight  or  ten  line-of- 
battle  ships  to  be  with  us  in  February, 
with  a  number  of  supernumerary  seamen 
for  manning  boats,  having  fully  experi 
enced  the  want  of  them  in  every  move 
ment  we  have  made.  We  must  also  have 

nel,  four  hundred  and  fifty  ;  major,  four  hundred  ;  captain, 
three  hundred;  lieutenant,  two  hundred;  ensign,  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty.  A  certain  number  of  the  eighty-eight  battal 
ions  voted  by  Congress  was  assigned  to  each  state,  as  its 
quota.  The  states  were  to  appoint  all  officers  as  high  as 
colonels,  and  to  fill  up  vacancies ;  and  also  to  provide  arms 
and  clothing  for  their  respective  quotas  —  the  expense  of 
clothing  to  be  deducted,  as  usual,  from  the  soldiers'  pay. 
All  officers  were  to  be  commissioned  by  Congress.  Articles 
of  war  were  also  passed,  better  suited  to  the  requirements  of 
the  army,  and  more  calculated  to  secure  discipline. 

SPARKS. 


recruits  from  Europe,  not  finding  the 
Americans  disposed  to  serve  with  arms, 
notwithstanding  the  hopes  held  out  to 
me  upon  my  arrival  in  this  port." 

Tories  by  profession  abounded  since 
the  British  success  on  Long  island.  Stat- 
en  island,  New  York,  and  Long  island, 
were  now  filled  with  those  who  were  pro 
fuse  in  their  expressions  of  loyal  attach 
ment,  but  by  no  means  as  free  in  giving 
their  services  as  they  were  bountiful  in 
professions  of  good  will.  There  was  one, 
however,  who,  now  that  he  was  embarked 
in  the  cause,  was  evidently  doing  his  best 
to  aid  Howe.  This  was  OLIVER  DELANCEY, 
the  son  of  a  Huguenot  colonist,  who  had 
early  come  to  America,  and,  having  re 
ceived  an  extensive  grant  of  land  in  West- 
chester  county,  became  wealthy,  and  the 
founder  of  an  influential  family.  Oliver, 
like  his  brother  James,  the  lieutenant- 
governor  of  New  York,  reached  a  posi 
tion  of  high  influence  in  the  province. 
When  the  French  War  began,  and  he  was 
solicited  to  accept  the  command  of  the 
New-York  regiment,  he  said  that,  if  he 
did,  he  could  in  ten  days  raise  the  whole 
quota  of  troops  required  of  that  colony. 
Nor  was  this  the  mere  boast  of  a  bragga 
docio.  He  was  strongly  attached  to  his 
country,  and  boldly  advocated  its  rights  ; 
but  when  the  question  came  of  separa 
tion,  he  opposed  it,  and,  so  soon  as  the 
Revolutionary  struggle  began,  he  staked 
his  all  on  the  side  of  the  British  throne. 
On  Howe's  arrival  at  Staten  island,  De- 
lancey  was  the  first  American  loyalist  to 
be  made  a  brigadier-general  in  the  royal 
army. 

Great  hopes  were  entertained  of  his 


REVOLUTIONARY. 


OLIVER  DELANCEY. 


361 


influence  in  obtaining  recruits  in  New 
York  and  its  neighborhood.  He,  howev 
er,  although  only  required  to  obtain  fif 
teen  hundred  men  in  all,  was  more  than 
a  year  in  getting  six  hundred  to  join  his 
standard,  and  during  the  whole  war  they 
never  amounted  to  eight  hundred.  He 
was  now  at  work  on  Long  island,  tempt 
ing  the  Americans  by  offers  of  the  same 
pay  and  treatment  as  English  soldiers, 
and  Washington  supposed  with  such  suc 
cess,  that  he  thought  it  necessary,  if  pos 
sible,  to  counteract  his  manoeuvres.  Gen 
eral  George  Clinton  was  accordingly  sent 
from  his  station  on  the  Hudson,  beyond 
Kingsbridge,  to  meet  General  Lincoln, 
just  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
new  levies  of  troops  from  Massachusetts. 
Clinton  was  to  proceed  to  Fairfield,  in 
Connecticut,  and  there  concoct  with  Lin 
coln  a  plan  to  make  a  descent  upon  Long 
island,  and  try  to  check  Delancey's  "  per 
nicious  practices."  The  expedition  was, 
however,  finally  abandoned,  for  want  of 
the  necessary  boats. 

The  tories,  too,  seemed  to  be  very  ac 
tive  at  this  moment  in  Westchester  and 
Dutchess  counties.  Washington  had  been 
informed  that  there  were  several  compa 
nies  of  men  preparing  to  go  off  and  join 
the  king's  army.  Accordingly,  he  ordered 
the  guard-boats  and  the  sentries  at  the 
works  on  Mount  Washington  to  keep  a 
strict  lookout,  in  case  these  American  re 
cruits  for  the  British  army  should  attempt 
to  come  down  the  North  river.  General 
Heath  also,  then  in  command  at  Kings- 
bridge,  was  urged  to  do  his  utmost,  by 
means  of  his  troops,  to  intercept  any  coin 
ing  down  the  East  river,  with  the  purpose 
4G 


of  joining  the  enemy's  forces  on  Long 
island.  Washington  was  determined  to 
use  every  precaution  in  his  power  "  to 
prevent  these  parricides  from  accomplish 
ing  their  designs." 

On  Long  island  there  was  another  man, 
of  a  different  stamp  from  Delancey,  one 
Major  Rogers,  who  was  all  the  more  for 
midable  as  he  was  entirely  unscrupulous. 
ROBERT  ROGERS  was  born  in  New  Hamp 
shire,  where  his  father  emigrated  from 
Scotland.  During  the  French  War,  he  en 
tered  the  British  service,  and  command 
ed  a  corps  of  New-England  riflemen,  who 
became  renowned  for  their  exploits,  un 
der  the  name  of  Rogers'  Rangers.  When 
peace  with  France  was  declared,  Rogers 
retired,  on  half-pay,  to  his  native  town. 
He  did  not,  however,  long  remain  at  rest, 
but  soon  took  up  arms  in  the  campaign 
against  the  Cherokee  Indians.  He  was 
rewarded  for  his  services  by  being  ap 
pointed  governor  of  Michillimackinac  in 
1766  ;  but  his  artfulness  of  character,  and 
want  of  directness  of  conduct,  exposed 
him  to  the  suspicion  of  laying  a  plot  to 
plunder  his  own  fort  and  join  the  French. 
He  was  accordingly  put  in  irons,  and  sent 
to  Montreal  for  trial.  He  escaped  con 
demnation,  however,  and  went  to  Ens1- 

'  7  O 

land,  where  he  contrived  to  establish  him 
self  on  such  a  respectable  footing,  that 
he  was  presented  to  the  king.  But  his 
good  fortune  soon  failed  him,  and  he  was 
clapped  into  prison  for  debt. 

When  the  difficulties  between  Great 
Britain  and  her  colonies  were  fast  ap 
proaching  the  crisis  of  war,  Rogers  again 
made  his  appearance  in  America.  So  lit 
tle  scrupulous  was  he  supposed  to  be, 


BATTLES  OF  AMP] RICA. 


[PART  n. 


that  it  was  the  opinion  of  all  who  knew 
him,  that  he  was  ready  to  join  either  the 
British  or  the  Americans,  as  his  personal 
interest  might  prompt,  or  chance  direct. 
When  the  Revolutionary  War  began,  Rog 
ers  kept  wandering  about  the  country, 
and  haunting  the  quarters  of  Americans 
in  authority,  civil  or  military,  with  the 
view  of  either  selling  his  services,  or  ful 
filling  his  duties  as  a  spy,  in  which  char 
acter  he  was  suspected  to  have  been  al 
ready  employed  by  the  British. 

In  the  course  of  his  wanderings,  he  fell 
in  with  Doctor  Wheelock,  of  Dartmouth 
college,  who  wrote  :  "  The  famous  Major 
Rogers  came  to  my  house,  from  a  tavern 
in  the  neighborhood,  where  he  called  for 
refreshment.  I  had  never  before  seen 
him.  He  was  in  but  an  ordinary  habit 
for  one  of  his  character."  He  treated  the 
doctor  with  great  respect,  and  gave  him 
an  account  of  his  travels.  He  spoke  of 
his  visit  to  London,  where  the  doctor's 
college,  he  said,  was  in  great  repute,  and 
that  Lord  Dartmouth  and  many  other 
noblemen  had  spoken  of  it  in  his  hearing 
with  "  expressions  of  the  highest  esteem 
and  respect."  He  told  of  his  deeds  in  for 
eign  lands,  and  how  he  had  fought  two 
battles  in  Algiers,  under  the  dey;  and, 
with  the  apparent  desire  to  live  thereaf 
ter  in  peace  and  innocence,  he  declared 
that  he  had  now  returned  to  his  native 
country  "to  take  care  of  some  large  grants 
of  lands  made  to  him,"  and  to  visit  his 
sister  and  his  wife,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
since  his  return"  from  England.  He  had 
been,  however,  according  to  his  own  ac 
count,  very  deliberate  in  performing  his 
conjugal  duties  ;  for  he  had  already  spent 


twenty  days  with  the  Congress  at  Phila 
delphia,  and  as  many  more  in  New  York. 
He  had  been  offered  and  urged,  he  said, 
to  take  a  commission  in  favor  of  the  colo 
nies  ;  but,  with  a  scrupulous  delicacy,  as 
he  wras  on  half-pay  from  the  crown,  he 
thought  it  proper  not  to  accept  it,  The 
major  wound  up  his  interview  with  the 
doctor  by  declaring  that  he  was  a  great 
friend  to  his  college,  and  volunteered  to 
assist  in  obtaining  a  large  grant  of  land 
for  it. 

Rogers,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  in 
Philadelphia,  where  he  had  been  arrest 
ed  ;  but  having  "  solemnly  promised  and 
engaged,  on  the  honor  of  a  gentleman 
and  soldier,  that  he  would  not  bear  arms 
against  the  American  united  colonies,  in 
any  manner  whatsoever,  d  uring  the  Amer 
ican  contest  with  Great  Britain,"  he  was 
set  free,  and  provided  with  a  passport  by 
the  Pennsylvania  committee  of  safety. 
Thus  fortified,  Rogers  proceeded  (about 
a  month  after  his  visit  to  Doctor  Whee 
lock)  to  the  American  camp  before  Bos 
ton,  and  wrrote  Washington  a  letter,  re 
questing  his  signature  to  his  Philadelphia 
certificate,  and  making  this  emphatic  pro 
fession  of  patriotism  :  "  I  love  America ; 
it  is  my  native  country,  and  that  of  my 
family,  and  I  intend  to  spend  the  even 
ing  of  my  days  in  it." 

About  the  same  time  that  Washington 
received  this  letter,  Doctor  Wheelock  also 
wrote  him  that  "two  soldiers,  returning 

O 

from  Montreal,  informed  him  that  our  offi 
cers  were  assured  by  a  Frenchman  (a  cap 
tain  of  the  artillery,  whom  they  had  taken 
captive)  that  Major  Rogers  was  second  in 
command  under  General  Carleton ;  and 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MAJOR  ROGERS. 


363 


that  he  had  been,  in  an  Indian  habit, 
through  our  encampment  at  St.  Johns." 
Washington  sent  General  Sullivan  to 
have  an  interview  with  Rogers,  who  was 
then  within  a  few  miles  of  Cambridge. 
Sullivan  confronted  the  major  with  this 
statement  of  Doctor  Wheelock  about  his 
service  in  Canada.  Rogers  denied  his 
having  been  there,  but  confessed  that  he 
had  gone  to  the  westward  of  Albany.  As 
Washington  did  not  care  to  see  the  ma 
jor,  and  could  not  know  of  any  reason 
Avhy  he  should  be  haunting  the  American 
camp,  Sullivan  was  directed  to  tell  him 
that  he  could  neither  be  received  at  head 
quarters  nor  get  his  passport  signed  ;  but 
that  he  might  depart,  and  enjoy  such  se 
curity  as  the  papers  with  which  he  was 
already  provided  might  give  him. 

The  next  event  in  the  history  of  the 
major  was  his  arrest,  by  the  order  of 
Washington,  at  South  Amboy,  where  he 
was  prowling  about  the  American  camp, 
and  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  British 
on  Staten  island,  under  suspicious  circum 
stances.  Washington  sent  him  to  Phila 
delphia,  under  the  care  of  an  officer,  as 
Rogers  had  declared  that  he  was  on  his 
way  to  make  a  secret  offer  to  serve  Con 
gress —  a  body  which,  however,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  took  care  to  put  on  its 
guard,  by  suggesting  to  President  Han 
cock  "  whether  it  would  not  be  danger 
ous  to  accept  the  offer  of  his  services." 
Congress  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 


the  major,  but  handed  him  over  to  the 
provincial  legislative  assembly  of  New 
Hampshire. 

Rogers  now  appeared  in  his  true  char 
acter,  as  a  colonel  in  the  British  army, 
engaged  in  recruiting  his  famous  corps, 
called  the  Queen's  Rangers.  By  an  offer 
to  recruits  "of  their  proportion  of  all  rebel 
lands,"  he  was  filling  his  ranks  with  a  set 
of  desperate  adventurers,  who  made  them 
selves  notorious,  throughout  the  war,  as 
among  the  most  audacious  and  unscrupu 
lous  of  the  enemy. 

He  was  now  on  Long  island,  getting 
men,  out  of  the  abounding  tories  there. 
He  had  made  his  headquarters  at  Hun- 
tington ;  and  Connecticut  seemed  greatly 
alarmed  lest  he  should  carry  out  his  threat 
of  landing  at  Norwalk,  taking  the  conti 
nental  stores,  and  laying  waste  the  town. 
Governor  Trumbull  says :  "  I  hope  we 
shall  be  able  to  frustrate  his  designs.  I 
have  no  need  to  apprize  you  [he  is  wri 
ting  to  Livingston]  of  the  art  of  this  Rog 
ers.  He  has  been  a  famous  scouter,  or 
woods-hunter,  skilled  in  waylaying,  am 
buscade,  and  sudden  attack."*  Rogers 
was  a  dangerous  fellow,  as  cunning  as  an 
Indian,  and  as  unscrupulous  as  a  highway 
man.  His  tricks  were  a  constant  topic 
of  conversation  in  the  American  camp, 
and  all  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  spirit 
were  anxious,  if  possible,  to  catch  the 
wily  colonel. 

*  Sparks's  Life  of  Washington. 


364 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PART 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

The  Americans  at  Tieonderoga. — The  111  Condition  of  the  Troops. — Their  Sufferings. — Reinforcements. — Boat-Building 
at  Skenesborough. — Arnold  and  his  Fleet. — Arnold  again  in  Trouble. — Condemned  by  the  Court. — Gates  comes  to 
his  Rescue,  and  dissolves  the  Court. — Activity  of  Sir  Guy  Carleton. — Arnold  sets  sail. — Prepares  to  fight  the  Enemy. 
— The  Action. — Victorious  Result. — Arnold's  Escape. — Humanity  of  Carleton. — Carleton  takes  Crown  Point. — Re 
connoitres  Ticonderoga. — Gates  makes  a  Great  Show  of  Defence. — Carleton  frightened  awav. — Retires  into  Canada. 


1776, 


SOON  after  the  arrival  at  Crown 
Point  of  Generals  Sclmyler,  Gates, 
and  Arnold,  who  had  met  at  Albany  and 
set  out  together  to  join  the  northern  ar 
my,  the  troops,  it  will  be  recollected,  were 
withdrawn  to  Ticonderoga.  General  Sir 
Gny  Carleton,  the  governor  of  Canada, 
Avas  at  St.  Johns  (on  the  Sorel  river,  near 
the  northern  extremity  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain),  and  might  be  expected,  so  soon  as 
he  could  construct  proper  vessels  for  the 
purpose,  to  sail  up  the  lake  and  attack 
the  Americans.  The  latter  began  to  pre 
pare,  in  all  haste,  to  defend  themselves. 
The  old  French  fort  was  strengthened  by 
new  defences,  and  the  neighboring  hills 
and  grounds  cleared  of  their  forest-wood, 
and  fortified  with  redoubts  and  batteries. 
The  American  troops,  when  they  had 
reached  Crown  Point,  after  their  retreat 
under  General  Sullivan,  were  in  a  state 
of  extreme  misery.  "  I  found  them,"  said 
Adjutant-General  Trumbull,  "  dispersed, 
some  few  in  tents,  some  in  sheds,  and 
more  under  the  shelter  of  miserable  bush 
huts,  so  totally  disorganized  by  the  death 
or  sickness  of  officers,  that  the  distinction 
of  regiments  and  corps  was  in  a  great  de 
gree  lost ;  so  that  I  was  driven  to  the  ne 
cessity  of  great  personal  examination : 


and  I  can  truly  say  that  I  did  not  look 
into  tent  or  hut  in  which  I  did  not  find 
either  a  dead  or  dying  man.  I  found  the 
whole  number  of  officers  and  men  to  be 
five  thousand  two  hundred,  and  the  sick 
who  required  the  attentions  of  a  hospital 
were  two  thousand  eight  hundred  ;  so 
that  when  they  were  sent  off,  with  the 
number  of  men  necessary  to  row  them  to 
the  hospital,  which  had  been  established 
at  the  south  end  of  Lake  George,  a  dis 
tance  of  fifty  miles,  there  would  remain 
but  the  shadow  of  the  army." 

With  this  "  shadow  of  the  army,"  how 
ever,  the  Americans  began  their  opera 
tions  at  Ticonderoga,  and  with  their  new 
duties  their  old  sufferings  did  not  end. 
As  the  forest  was  cleared  for  the  encamp 
ment,  the  exhalations  from  the  earth,  thus 
exposed  for  the  first  time  to  the  rays  of 
a  midsummer  sun,  together  with  the  mi- 
asm  from  the  lake,  soon  produced  a  fever, 
which  not  seldom  carried  off  the  strong 
est  men  in  two  or  three  days  after  an  at 
tack. 

Reinforcements,  however,  soon  arrived 
from  New  England  and  Pennsylvania,  so 
that  the  post  at  Ticonderoga  began  to  as 
sume  the  aspect  of  military  strength  and 
activity.  Ship-carpenters  had  also  arrived 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


FLOTILLA  AT  CROWN  POINT. 


36 


from  Boston  and  New  London,  and  were 
at  once  set  to  work  at  Skenesborough, 
building  the  hulls  of  boats  and  galleys. 
These  as  soon  as  launched  were  towed 
down  the  lake  to  Ticonderoga,  where  they 
were  equipped  and  armed.  General  Gates 
had  appointed  Arnold,from  his  well-known 
activity  and  his  experience  as  a  sailor,  to 
superintend  the  fitting  out  of  this  little 
fleet,  and  promised  him  the  command. 
The  difficulty  of  obtaining  proper  mate 
rials  for  ship-building,  and  the  distance  to 
which  they  had  to  send  for  skilful  work 
men,  interfered  greatly  with  the  work ; 
but  Arnold's  energy  so  overcame  every 
obstacle,  that  by  the  middle  of  August 
he  had  a  squadron  of  one  sloop  and  one 
schooner  of  twelve  guns,  two  schooners 
of  eight,  and  five  gondolas  with  each 
three. 

Arnold,  however,  with  his  usual  facility 
of  quarrel,  had  just  now  a  difficulty  on 
hand,  which  nearly  led  to  the  loss  of  his 
command.  When  about  leaving  Quebec, 
he  lawlessly  ordered  some  goods  to  be 
seized  belonging  to  merchants  in  Mon 
treal,  but  gave  receipts  to  the  owners, 
who  were  promised  payment  on  present 
ing  them  to  Congress.  They  had  made 
their  claims,  and  Arnold  was  now  called 
upon  to  account  for  his  disposition  of  the 
goods.  All  he  had  to  say  was,  that  they 
had  been  damaged  and  plundered,  and 
that  Colonel  Hazen  was  responsible,  for 
he  had  disobeyed  orders  in  not  taking 
proper  charge  of  them.  Hazen  accord 
ingly  was  arrested,  and  tried  by  court- 
martial.  Arnold  brought  forward,  as  his 
principal  witness,  a  Major  Scott.  His  tes 
timony,  however,  was  rejected  by  the 


court,  on  the  ground  that,  as  he  had 
seized  the  goods,  though  under  the  or 
ders  of  Arnold,  he  was  a  party  concerned. 
Arnold  became  so  enraged  at  this,  tha. 
he  completely  lost  all  self-control,  and 
addressed  an  insulting  communication  to 
the  court.  They  insisted  upon  an  apol 
ogy,  in  vindication  of  their  wounded  dig 
nity.  This  only  made  Arnold  still  more 
intemperate  in  his  rage  ;  and,  insultingly 
refusing  to  apologize,  he  hinted  so  broad 
ly  that  he  was  ready  to  give  each  mem 
ber  personal  satisfaction,  that  the  whole 
court  considered  themselves  as  being  chal 
lenged  !  This  was,  of  course,  too  outra 
geous  a  contempt  of  their  dignity  to  be 
passed  over  without  rebuke  and  punish 
ment  ;  and  General  Gates  was  according 
ly  appealed  to,  to  interpose  the  severity 
of  his  executive  power.  Gates,  however, 
was  not  disposed  to  spare  his  admiral  of 
the  lake-fleet,  and  therefore  acted  "  dicta- 
torially,"  as  he  himself  calls  it,  and  dis 
solved  the  court-martial.  To  Congress, 
Gates  justified  his  conduct,  saying,  "  The 
United  States  must  not  be  deprived  of 
that  excellent  officer's  [Arnold's]  services 
at  this  important  moment."* 

The  vessels  being  equipped,  and  Ar 
nold  in  command,  the  flotilla  rendez 
voused  at  Crown  Point.  Here  floated 
the  Royal  Savage,  the  Enterprise,  the 
Revenge,  and  the  Liberty,  the  four  larger 
craft,  together  with  the  half-dozen  gon 
dolas  and  several  new  galleys.  Sir  Guy 
Carleton  was  not  less  busy  and  active 
than  Arnold.  Bringing  a  large  force  of 
shipwrights,  riggers,  and  sailors,  from  Que 
bec,  together  with  frames  of  vessels,  sup- 

*  Sparks's  Life  of  Arnold. 


366 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


plies  of  timber,  cordage,  guns,  and  every 
thing  that  "was  necessary  for  constructing 
and  fitting  out  ships-of-war,  the  Canadian 
governor  was  soon  enabled  to  launch  at 
St.  Johns  a  formidable  fleet. 

Toward  the  end  of  September,  Arnold 
was  prepared  for  a  cruise,  and  set  sail 
down  the  lake.  General  Gates  had  or 
dered  him  not  to  advance  beyond  the 
Isle-aux-Tetes  (near  what  is  now  called 
Rouse's  point),  at  the  northern  part  of 
Lake  Champlain,  where  its  waters  are 
narrowed  toward  the  outlet  of  the  Sorel 
river.  When  Arnold  had  reached  Wind 
mill  point,  within  four  miles  of  the  Isle- 
aux-Tetes,  observing  that  that  island  and 
the  neighboring  shores  were  in  posses 
sion  of  the  British,  he  came  to  anchor, 
moving  his  flotilla  across  the  lake.  Hav 
ing  occasion  to  land  his  men,  in  order  to 
cut  some  timber  and  brushwood  for  the 
purpose  of  raising  the  bulwarks  of  his 
little  vessels,  and  thus  prevent  them  from 
being  so  accessible  to  boarders,  he  found 
that  his  position  was  not  yet  secure  from 
annoyance  by  the  enemy.  A  party  that 
he  had  sent  ashore  had,  in  fact,  been  set 
upon  by  an  ambuscade  of  Indians,  and 
driven  to  their  boats,  with  the  loss  of  sev 
eral  killed  and  wounded.  Arnold  now 
weighed  anchor,  and  sailed  back  some 
eight  or  ten  miles,  until  he  reached  Isle- 
la-Motte. 

From  this  point  scouts  were  sent  along 
the  banks  of  the  lake,  and  guard-boats 
stationed  in  advance  along  its  waters,  in 
order  to  watch  the  approach  of  the  ene 
my,  and  obtain  information  of  their  move 
ments.  From  what  was  thus  learned,  Ar 
nold  thought  it  advisable  to  move  still 


farther  down,  and  accordingly  sailed  back 
and  took  a  position  with  his  flotilla  in  the 
narrowest  part  of  the  channel  between 
Valcour  island  and  the  western  bank  of 
the  lake.  Here  he  stretched  his  little 
vessels  in  line  across  and  toward  the  up 
per  part  of  the  strait.  While  thus  moored, 
awaiting  the  approach  of  the  enem^,  he 
was  reinforced,  from  Crown  Point,  by  the 
cutter  Lee,  of  four  guns;  the  three  gal 
leys  Congress,  Washington,  and  Trumbull, 
each  of  ten  guns  ;  and  several  additional 
gondolas.  His  whole  force  in  guns  now 
amounted  to  ninety ;  in  metal,  six  hun 
dred  and  forty-seven  pounds ;  and  in  men, 
most  of  whom  were  soldiers,  to  six  hun 
dred. 

The  advance  guard-boats  were  constant 
ly  on  the  lookout,  as  the  approach  of  the 
British  was  hourly  expected.  At  break 

of  day,  accordingly,   Carleton's 

Oct»  Hi 

fleet  hove  in  sight  off  Cumber 
land  head  to  the  north,  and  its  approach 
was  duly  reported.  As  vessel  after  vessel 
bore  down,  the  appearance  of  the  enemy 
was  truly  formidable.  There  was  the  ship 
Inflexible,  of  sixteen  guns  ;  the  schooner 
Maria,  of  fourteen ;  the  schooner  Carle- 
ton,  of  twelve ;  the  razee  Thunderer,  of 
fourteen ;  the  gondola  Royal  Consort,  of 
six ;  together  with  a  score  of  gun-boats, 
four  long-boats,  each  armed  witli  a  gun, 
and  four-and-twenty  other  small  craft. 

Carleton  had  almost  proved  himself  a 
match  in  activity  for  even  the  energetic 
Arnold.  The  ship  Inflexible  had  been 
got  ready  to  sail  within  twenty-eight  days 
after  her  keel  had  been  laid  ;  and  between 
July  and  October,  so  great  had  been  the 
despatch  of  the  enemy,  that  no  less  than 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


FIGHT  ON  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


367 


"  thirty  fighting-vessels  of  different  sorts 
and  sizes,  and  all  carrying  cannon,"  had 
been  equipped.  Carle  ton,  however,  had 
all  the  resources  of  the  British  fleet,  then 
at  Quebec,  at  his  command.  British  men- 
of-war  supplied  abundant  materials,  edu 
cated  naval  officers  to  superintend  the 
work,  skilful  artificers  to  execute  it,  and 
all  the  possible  requirements  for  building 
and  equipping  vessels-of-war.  The  prep 
arations  had  all  been  conducted  by  Cap 
tain  Douglas,  of  the  Isis ;  and,  when  the 
fleet  was  ready  to  sail,  seamen  to  the  num 
ber  of  more  than  seven  hundred  were 
drafted  from  the  naval  ships  at  Quebec, 
to  man  the  squadron  of  the  lake ;  while 
each  vessel  was  officered  by  lieutenants 
and  midshipmen,  and  the  whole  were 
commanded  by  the  British  naval  captain 
Pringle,  of  the  Lord  Howe.  Carleton 
himself,  though  yielding  the  direction  of 
the  fleet  to  the  nautical  experience  of 
Pringle,  could  not  restrain  his  ardor  to  be 
a  witness  of  the  struggle,  and  accordingly 
went  on  board  the  flag-ship,  the  Inflexible, 
determined  to  share  the  common  danger. 

o 

The  young  officers,  some  of  them  now  for 
the  first  time  in  separate  command,  were 
full  of  eager  desire  to  distinguish  them 
selves.  Among  the  midshipmen  was  the 
youthful  Pellew  (already  noticed  for  his 
gallantry),  afterward  famous  as  Lord  Ex- 
inouth. 

The  British  fleet  bore  for  the  southern 
point  of  Valcour  island,  with  the  view  of 
rounding  it,  and  bringing  the  whole  force 
against  Arnold's  line  stretched  across  the 
strait  to  the  north.  The  wind,  however, 
was  unfavorable  for  this  manoeuvre,  and 
only  the  smaller  craft  were  able  to  enter 


the  channel,  as  the  larger  vessels  had  not 
room  to  beat  up,  and  could  not  sail  suffi 
ciently  close  hauled. 

Arnold,  observing  the  difficulty,  and 
seeing  the  British  force  thus  divided,  or 
dered  three  of  his  galleys  and  his  schoon 
er  the  Royal  Savage  to  get  under  way. 
He  himself  took  the  lead,  on  board  the 
Congress  galley,  and  sailed,  followed  by 
the  rest,  to  attack  those  of  the  enemy  in 
advance,  which  consisted  of  all  their  small 
craft  and  the  schooner  Carleton  of  twelve 
guns,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  D acres. 

The  engagement  soon  began,  hot  and 
heavy,  and  continued  from  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning  till  five  in  the  afternoon. 
The  American  boats  suffered  greatly,  and 
none  more  than  the  Congress,  which  Ar 
nold  took  care  to  keep  in  the  hottest  of 
the  struggle.  He  was  constantly  on  deck, 
pointing  the  guns  with  his  own  hands; 
and,  when  the  enemy  retired  from  the 
fight,  Arnold's  galley  was  almost  a  wreck, 
with  her  hull  riddled  with  shot,  her  mast 
barely  standing,  her  rigging  torn  into 
shreds,  and  a  large  proportion  of  her  men 
killed  or  wounded.  The  Washington  gal 
ley,  commanded  by  Waterbury,  had  hard 
ly  suffered  less,  her  captain  being  wound 
ed,  her  lieutenant  with  many  of  her  men 
killed,  and  the  vessel  itself  well  shattered. 
One  gondola  lost  every  officer  but  her 
captain,  and  another  sank  immediately 
after  the  engagement.  No  less  than  six 
ty  in  all  were  either  killed  or  wounded. 

The  Royal  Savage,  in  attempting  to 
reach  the  line,  got  aground,  when  she  was 
set  on  fire  by  her  crew,  and  abandoned. 
The  larger  British  vessels,  which  were  un 
able  to  take  part  in  the  action,  strove,  by 


368 


BATTLES  OB"  AMERICA. 


[PART.  1 1. 


landing  their  men  and  some  Indians  on 
Valcour  island,  to  harass  the  Americans 
with  musketry ;  but,  although  they  kept 
up  a  constant  fire,  they  only  added  to  the 
confusion  and  excitement  of  the  scene, 
and  foiled  to  do  much  damage. 

Arnold,  upon  retiring  to  his  former  an 
chorage,  called  a  council  of  his  officers, 
when  it  was  unanimously  resolved  that, 
with  the  superiority  in  ships,  men,  and 
armament,  of  the  British,  it  was  impossi 
ble  to  cope  with  them,  and  that  the  only 
resource  left  was  to  attempt  to  escape 
back  to  Crown  Point.  How  to  accom 
plish  this  was,  however,  the  great  diffi 
culty,  as  the  enemy  had  stretched  their 
vessels  across  the  strait,  Avithin  only  a  few 
hundred  yards  of  the  American  line.  As 
the  night  was  dark,  and  the  wind  blew 
favorably  from  the  north,  Arnold  deter 
mined  upon  the  bold  expedient  of  pas 
sing  through  the  British  fleet.  The  at 
tempt  was  made,  and  with  perfect  suc 
cess.  The  Trumbull  galley,  commanded 
by  Colonel  Wigglesworth,  of  the  Massa 
chusetts  militia,  led  the  retreat,  with  bare 
ly  enough  sail  set  to  give  her  steerage- 
way,  and  a  lantern  under  her  stern,  so 
masked  as  not  to  be  seen  except  by  those 
directly  in  her  wake.  The  rest  of  the 
squadron  (each  with  a  lantern  hung  at 
her  stern  in  the  same  manner)  followed 
in  succession,  at  intervals  of  two  or  three 
hundred  yards.  The  night  was  profound 
ly  dark,  and  a  heavy  fog  hung  over  the 
lake.  Strict  silence  was  enjoined,  and 
thus  each  vessel  sailed,  in  the  dead  of 
night,  through  the  enemy's  line,  Arnold 
bringing  up  the  rear  with  his  usual  dis 
regard  or  rather  love  of  danger.  The 


Oct.  13, 


British  were  so  completely  kept  in  the 
dark.,  that  they  were  unconscious  of  his 
escape  until  next  morning,  when  he  had 
reached  Schuyler's  island,  some  ten  miles 
up  the  lake. 

Arnold  was  now  brought  to  a  stop  by 
the  ill  condition  of  his  vessels,  which  had 
been  so  damaged  in  the  fight,  that  all  of 
them  were  either  leaking  or  required  to 
have  new  sails  bent.  Two  of  the  gondo 
las  were  such  complete  wrecks,  that  they 
were  abandoned  and  sunk.  The  neces 
sary  repairs  detained  him  for  half  a  day 
at  Schuyler's  island,  and  Arnold  was  not 
enabled  to  get  under  way  again  until  the 
evening. 

The  wind  proving  favorable,  Arnold 
made  good  progress  during  the  night. 
In  the  morning,  however,  a  fresh 
breeze  sprang  up  from  the  south, 
dead  ahead ;  and,  although  it  was  unfa 
vorable  for  both  the  pursued  and  the  pur 
suing,  the  enemy  succeeded  in  gaining 
upon  the  rear  of  the  American  flotilla. 
The  two  galleys,  the  Washington  and  Con 
gress,  and  four  of  the  gondolas  —  all  of 
which  were  in  bad  sailing-condition,  from 
the  damages  they  had  suffered  —  were 
soon  overtaken  by  the  leading  British 
vessels,  which  crowded  all  sail  in  chase. 
The  Washington  was  the  first  to  suffer, 
and,  having  received  a  broadside  or  two, 
was  forced  to  strike.  The  enemy  now 
bore  up  against  Arnold's  galley,  the  Con 
gress.  Arnold  did  not  refuse  the  fight, 
notwithstanding  the  odds  against  him  of 
a  ship  and  two  schooners.  Unequal  as 
was  the  struggle,  he  resolutely  engaged 
in  it,  and  with  such  a  brave  and  skilful 
resistance,  that  it  was  prolonged  for  four 


RE\  OLUTIONARY.] 

hours;  and  Arnold  did  not  withdraw  his 
galley  until  she  was  nearly  a  wreck,  and 
the  enemy  had  been  reinforced  by  four 
additional  vessels,  and  thus  with  seven  of 
their  larger  craft  were  preparing  to  sur 
round  him  on  all  sides. 

Arnold,  finding  himself  in  this  extremi 
ty,  ran  the  Congress  and  the  four  gondo 
las  ashore.  He  then  ordered  all  the  boats, 
with  their  flags  flying,  to  be  set  on  fire, 
and  his  men  to  spring  overboard  with 
their  muskets  in  hand,  and,  having  waded 
to  the  land,  to  draw  up  and  keep  off  the 
enemy's  small  boats  should  they  attempt 
an  attack.  Arnold  himself  was  the  last 
man  to  leave  the  galley ;  and,  on  reach 
ing  the  shore,  he  stood  his  guard  until 
the  flames  had  so  enveloped  the  whole 
flotilla,  that  hardly  a  plank  was  left  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Arnold  then  pushed  on  by  land  through 
the  forest  to  Ticonderoga,  where  on  his 
arrival  he  found  the  remnant  of  his  flo 
tilla —  the  two  schooners,  two  galleys,  one 
sloop,  and  the  gondola — which,  by  being 
in  advance,  and  in  fair  sailing-condition, 
had  succeeded  in  escaping  Carleton's  fleet. 
Every  one  awarded  to  Arnold  great  cred 
it  for  his  daring  and  the  skill  with  which 
he  managed  his  little  flotilla  in  so  unequal 
a  struggle,  although  some  have  doubted 
his  prudence  in  engaging  with  the  ene 
my  under  such  disadvantages. 

Sir  Guy  Carleton  treated  the  prisoners 
with  his  usual  humanity  and  chivalrous 
courtesy.  He  ordered  his  army-surgeons 
to  take  the  same  care  of  the  American 
wounded  as  they  did  of  his  own  men. 
The  others  he  sent  for  on  board  his  own 
ship,  where  "  he  first  treated  them  to  a 
47 


ARNOLD'S  DARING  AND  SKILL. 


3G9 


drink  of  grog,"  and  then  praised  their 
courage;  and,  after  expressing  a  regret 
that  it  had  not  been  displayed  in  the  ser 
vice  of  their  lawful  sovereign,  offered  to 
send  them  home  to  their  friends,  on  their 
giving  their  parole  that  they  would  not 
again  bear  arms  against  Great  Britain  un 
til  they  should  be  exchanged. 

General  Waterbury,who  had  command 
ed  the  Washington,  was  invited  by  Carle- 
ton  into  his  cabin  below,  and  asked  for 
his  commission.  When  it  was  shown,  and 
observed  to  be  signed  by  Governor  Trum- 
bull,  of  Connecticut,  the  courteous  Sir 
Guy  gave  his  prisoner  his  hand,  saying : 
"  General  Waterbury,  I  am  happy  to  take 
you  by  the  hand,  now  that  I  see  that  you 
are  not  serving  under  a  commission  and 
orders  of  the  rebel  Congress,  but  of  Gov 
ernor  Trumbull.  You  are  acting  under 
a  legitimate  and  acknowledged  authority. 
He  is  responsible  for  the  abuse  he  has 
made  of  that  authority.  That  which  is 
a  high  crime  in  him,  is  but  an  error  in 
you  :  it  was  your  duty  to  obey  him,  your 
legitimate  authority."* 

In  a  few  days  after  Arnold's  defeat,  a 
number  of  row-boats  pulled  up  the  lake, 
and  lay  upon  their  oars  off  the  advanced 
posts  of  the  Americans.  The  boats  bore 
a  flag  of  truce,  and  contained  General 
Waterbury  and  one  hundred  and  ten  pris 
oners,  who  were  now  returned  on  parole 
by  Sir  Guy  Carleton.  This  noble-hearted 
Englishman  had  treated  those  who  had 
fallen  into  his  hands  by  the  chances  of 
war  with  so  much  humanity  and  even 
gentle  courtesy,  and  each  man  who  re 
turned  was  so  full  of  gratitude  and  ex- 

*  Autobiography,  &c.,  by  John  Trumbull. 


370 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPATIT  IT. 


pressions  of  good  feeling  toward  Sir  Guy, 
that  he  was  thought  to  "have  made  a 
very  dangerous  impression."  The  boats, 
therefore,  which  contained  the  prisoners 
were  placed  under  the  guns  of  a  battery, 
and  orders  given  that  not  a  man  should 
be  allowed  to  land,  lest  by  intercourse 
with  the  American  troops  he  might  affect 
them  with  a  dangerous  good  will  toward 
the  enemy.  The  prisoners  were  accord 
ingly,  immediately  after  their  arrival  was 
reported  to  General  Gates,  ordered  to  pro 
ceed  to  Skenesborough,  on  their  way  to 
their  homes ;  and  they  went  forward  the 
same  night,  without  being  permitted  to 
land.  We  know  of  no  such  illustration 
as  this  fact  exhibits,  of  the  humanity  of  a 
chivalrous  enemy,  as  well  as  of  the  policy 
of  such  conduct.  Many  such  British  offi 
cers  might  have  proved  fatal  to  the  Amer 
ican  cause. 

Sir  Guy  meanwhile  did  not  neglect  the 
more  positive  duties  of  his  command.  He 
advanced  with  his  whole  force,  and  took 
possession  of  Crown  Point;  and  thence 
sent  out  a  reconnoitring-party  to  observe 
the  condition  of  the  Americans  at  Ticon- 
deroga.  Gates  was  prepared  to  make  an 
effective  display  of  his  powers  of  resist 
ance.  He  had  been  largely  reinforced, 
and  now  mustered  nearly  thirteen  thou 
sand  men,  who  by  proper  care  and  time 
ly  supplies  of  food  and  clothing,  were  in 
a  tolerably  effective  condition.  So  soon 
as  Carleton's  boats  appeared  off  a  point 
within  three  miles  of  Ticonderoga,  Gates 
ordered  his  whole  force  under  arms,  and 
each  man  to  his  post.  The  American 


lines  must  have  made  an  imposing  show 
to  those  on  the  lake.  The  summits  of 
the  rising  ground  on  both  sides  of  the 
water  were  crowned  with  redoubts  and 
batteries,  bristling  with  cannon,  and  full 
manned  with  soldiers,  while  above  all 
floated  the  new  flag  of  the  United  States. 
The  enemy's  boats  retired,  but  Gates 
did  not  neglect  to  continue  to  prepare 
for  an  attack.  The  works  were  manned 
at  daylight  each  morning,  and  the  troops 
kept  busy  the  whole  clay  in  strengthen 
ing  the  defences.  Poles  of  twelve  feet 
in  length  were  cut  in  the  neighboring; 

*— /  O  O 

forests,  armed  with  sharp  iron  points,  and 
kept  in  readiness  within  the  breastworks 
to  thrust  back  the  assailants  in  case  of  an 
assault.  Carleton,  however,  did  not  ad 
vance,  whether  owing  to  the  formidable 
appearance  of  his  antagonists  at  Ticon 
deroga,  or  to  the  strong  southerly  wind 
which  had  continued  to  blow  in  his  teeth 
ever  since  his  arrival  at  Crown  Point,  and 
prevented  the  advance  of  his  vessels.  Fi 
nally,  Gates,  growing  impatient,  ordered 
a  detachment  of  troops  to  march  toward 
Crown  Point,  to  reconnoitre.  They  soon 
returned,  with  the  information 
that  Sir  Guy  with  his  whole  fleet 
and  army  had  abandoned  that  post,  and 
withdrawn  into  Canada.  The  enemy  gone, 
there  was  less  occasion  for  the  American 
army  to  remain.  A  small  force,  under 
General  St.  Clair,  having  been  left  to  gar 
rison  the  post  at  Ticonderoga,  the  remain 
der  of  the  troops  were  ordered  to  other 
service.  Gates  proceeded  to  Albany,  and 
Arnold  to  join  Washington's  army. 


Nov.  1, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BRITISH  SHIPS  SAIL  UP  THE  HUDSON. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Sir  William  Howe  disposed  to  move. — English  Vessels-of- War  sail  up  the  Hudson. — In  efficacy  of  Chevaux-de-Frise,  &c. 
— The  Last  of  the  American  Turtle. — General  James  Clinton  astir. — Agitation  of  the  Convention  of  the  State  of  New 
York. — The  Enemy  at  Throw's  Point. — Return  of  General  Lee. — Elation  of  the  Army  in  consequence. — Lee's  Views 
of  the  British  Flans. — Council  of  War. — Lee  opposed  to  holding  Fort  Washington. — Greene  in  favor. — Movement  of 
the  Enemy. — General  Heath. — His  Life  and  Character. — An  Attempt  to  catch  Rogers. — Its  Failure. — The  Enemy 
outflanked  by  Washington. — Retires  to  White  Plains. — Lee's  Headquarters. — Oddities. — Approach  of  the  Enemy. 


1776, 


SIR  WILLIAM  HOWE,  after  his  long 
inactivity,  began  at  last  to  show 
some  disposition  to  move.  Early  one 
morning  the  British  men-of-war,  the  Roe 
buck,  Phoenix,  a  frigate  of  twenty  guns, 
and  several  tenders,  which  had  been  sta 
tioned  off  Bloomingdale,  taking  advan 
tage  of  a  fair  southerly  breeze,  got  under 

way  and  sailed  up  the  Hudson. 
Oct»  9« 

The  batteries  and  forts  on  both 

sides  of  the  river  kept  up  a  heavy  fire, 
but  the  ships  sailed  by  them  without  much 
damage.  The  famous  chevaux-de-frise,  that 
had  been  stretched  across  the  stream  un 
der  the  auspices  of  "  Old  Put,"  proved 
still  less  an  obstruction,  notwithstanding 
the  old  gap  in  it  had  been  filled  in.  The 
ships,  borne  by  a  strong  flood-tide  and  a 
fair  wind,  came  with  head  on,  and  broke 
through  the  barrier  with  hardly  a  check 
to  their  way,  chasing  before  them  the 
two  vessels  laden  down  with  stories,  ready 
to  be  sunk,  to  add  to  the  strength  of  the 

O 

chevaux-de-frise,  the  four  armed  galleys  sta 
tioned  to  protect  it,  an  American  vessel 
from  the  West  Indies,  with  a  cargo  of 
rum  and  molasses,  anchored  for  safety 

»/ 

under  the  cover  of  the  guns  of  the  fort, 
and  a  small  schooner  containing  Bush- 
nell's  "American  Turtle."  The  two  ships 


were  driven  ashore  by  their  pursuers ; 
two  of  the  galleys  secured  a  retreat ;  two 
were  run  aground  and  fell  into  the  ene- 
,  my's  hands,  although  their  crews  saved 
themselves  by  swimming;  the  West-India 
skipper  was  forced  to  strike  his  flag ;  and 
a  well-aimed  shot  sent  the  small  schoon 
er,  with  Bushnell's  submarine  exploder, 
to  the  bottom  —  meeting  a  fate,  as  Gen 
eral  Heath  remarks,  "  finely  in  contrast 
with  its  design ;"  for  the  purpose  of  the 
"American  Turtle"  was  to  destroy,  and 
not  to  be  destroyed. 

Washington  saw  in  this  movement  of 
the  enemy's  ships  an  intention  to  stop 
the  navigation  of  the  Hudson,  and  thus 
cut  off  his  communication  and  supplies 
by  that  river.  He  immediately  sent  an 
express  to  General  James  Clinton,  who 
commanded  at  the  Highlands,  to  put  him 
on  his  guard,  in  case  there  should  be  any 
attempt  upon  the  posts  and  forts  above. 
He  also  ordered  a  detachment  of  troops 
from  his  camp  to  hurry  along  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  river,  to  oppose  the  enemy 
in  case  they  should  land.  As  Putnam 
was  still  sanguine  of  the  efficacy  of  his 
favorite  chevaux-de-frise.,  Washington  was 
induced  to  send  a  party  to  try  and  get 
off  the  two  stone-laden  ships  which  had 


372 


BATTLES  OF1  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


o>-ot  aground,  and  in  the  meantime  to  or- 

O  O  / 

der  some  old  hulks  to  be  filled  up  and 
towed  down  to  close  the  break  in  the  ob 
struction  across  the  river,  and  thus  pre 
vent,  if  possible,  the  return  of  the  ships 
to  their  anchorage  in  the  bay. 

The  convention  of  the  state  of  New 
York  were  greatly  agitated  by  the  ad 
vance  of  the  enemy's  ships  up  their  main 
river.  They  had  great  distrust  of  many 
of  the  population,  and  believed  that  this 
movement  was  in  co-operation  with  the 
disaffected,  with  the  view  of  seizing  such 
passes  as  would  cut  off  the  communica 
tion  between  the  interior  and  Washing 
ton's  army,  and  thus  prevent  supplies. 
They  therefore  strenuously  urged  upon 
the  commander-in-chief  the  propriety  of 
sending  a  body  of  men  to  the  Highlands 
or  to  Peekskill,  to  "  secure  the  passes,  pre 
vent  insurrection,  and  overawe  the  dis 
affected." 

Washington  was  induced  by  these  ap 
prehensions  which  the  convention  were 
under,  on  account  of  the  disaffected  whom 
they  had  reason  to  suppose  were  plotting 
so  much  mischief,  to  order  up  a  part  of 
the  militia  which  had  lately  come  in  from 
Massachusetts,  under  the  new  general, 
Lincoln,  to  prevent  if  possible  the  conse 
quences  which  might  happen,  and  which 
it  was  believed  the  conspirators  had  in 
contemplation.  "I  am  persuaded,"  says 
Washington,  "  that  they  are  upon  the  eve 
of  breaking  out,  and  that  they  will  leave 
nothing  unessayed  that  will  distress  us 
and  favor  the  designs  of  the  enemy,  as 
soon  as  their  schemes  are  rife  for  it." 

The  attention  of  the  command er-in- 
chief  was,  however,  soon  called  to  a  more 


Oct.  12, 


pressing  danger  near  at  hand.  The  en 
emy  had  landed  on  "  Trog's" 
point  (Throgg's  it  is  now  always 
called,  though  Washington  writes  Trog's) 
in  large  force.  Nine  ships  and  a  great 
number  of  transports  and  store-vessels, 
"  full  of  men,"  had  been  observed  to  pass 
up  the  sound  the  night  before,  and  it  was 
believed  that  the  greatest  part  of  Howe's 
army  had  moved  upward  with  the  view 
of  getting  in  the  rear  of  Washington's 
lines  and  cutting  off  his  communication 
with  the  country.  "  Our  situation  here," 
writes  Washington,  "  is  not  exactly  the 
same  as  it  was  at  New  York.  It  is  rather 
better."  He  had  some  hope,  by  extend 
ing  his  force,  now  consisting  of  some  nine 
teen  thousand,  toward  East  and  West 
Chester,  to  oppose  the  enemy,  and  pre 
vent  the  accomplishment  of  their  plans. 

General  Howe,  after  landing,  did  not 
seem  to  be  very  impatient  to  begin  op 
erations.  He  was  waiting  (he  afterward 
said,  in  explanation)  for  the  arrival  of  re 
inforcements  and  stores,  while  the  Ameri 
cans  believed  that  he  was  forced  to  hold 
back  in  consequence  of  the  state  of  the 
causeway,  which  had  been  broken  up,  and 
which  was  necessary  for  the  conveyance 
of  his  troops  and  artillery  from  Throgg's 
point  to  the  mainland.  His  landing,  more 
over,  was  opposed  by  some  vigorous  man 
ifestations  on  the  part  of  the  American 
forces.  Howe  finally  re-embarked,  and 
landed  at  Pell's  point,  whence  he  began 
to  move  his  troops  toward  New  Kochelle. 

The  arrival  of  General  Lee  at 
this  anxious  time,  on  his  return 
from   the  South,  was  welcomed  by  the 
whole  American   army.     "  The   troops," 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LEE'S  URGENT  LETTER  TO  CONGRESS. 


373 


says  a  contemporary,  "  were  mightily  ela 
ted  with  his  presence,  and  felt  themselves 
stronger  by  one  thousand  men  upon  the 
occasion ;  for  they  had  great  confidence 
in  his  abilities,  and  expected  much  from 
him,  because  of  the  success  which  had  at 
tended  him  at  Charleston."  Washington 
at  once  gave  him  the  command  of  the  di 
vision  stationed  above  Kingsbridge.  The 
other  three  divisions  were  under  Generals 
Heath,  Sullivan,  and  Lincoln.  Greene 
had  command  of  the  post  on  the  Jersey 
shore,  opposite  to  Fort  Washington,  pre 
viously  called  "  Fort  Constitution,"  now 
changed  to  "Fort  Lee,"  in  honor  of  the 
general  whose  arrival  seemed  so  greatly 
to  be  welcomed  by  all. 

Lee's  success  in  the  South  had  greatly 
added  to  his  reputation  ;  and  when  Wash 
ington's  army  was  apparently  in  such  a 
strait  at  New  York,  Congress  despatched 
an  express  to  Georgia,  ordering  him  to 
repair  immediately  to  Philadelphia,  He 
at  once  obeyed  the  summons ;  and,  hav 
ing  waited  on  Congress,  and  consulted 

O  O  3 

with  that  body,  it  was  resolved  that  he 
should  proceed  to  Washington's  camp 
without  delay,  although  leave  was  grant 
ed  to  him  to  visit  the  American  posts  in 
New  Jersey.  Lee  accordingly,  before  pre 
senting  himself  at  Washington's  headquar 
ters,  visited  the  camp  at  Amboy,  just  pre 
vious  to  crossing  to  New  York.  While 
there,  he  took  occasion  to  make  a  survey 
of  the  enemy's  position  and  movements 
on  Staten  island.  Here,  on  the  day  of 
his  arrival,  Lee  beheld  a  great  encamp 
ment  of  Hessians,  and  on  the  next  morn 
ing  discovered  that  every  tent  was  struck, 
and  the  whole  force  had  disappeared. 


Thereupon  he  writes  to  Congress,  and  in 
his  usual  emphatic  style  says : 
"  I  am  confident  they  will  not 
attack  General  Washington's  lines  ;  such 
a  measure  is  too  absurd  for  a  man  of  Mr. 
Howe's  genius ;  and  unless  they  have  re 
ceived  flattering  accounts  from  Burgoyne 
that  he  will  be  able  to  effectuate  a  junc 
tion  (which  I  conceive  they  have  not), 
they  will  no  longer  remain  kicking  their 
heels  at  New  York.  They  will  put  the 
place  in  a  respectable  state  of  defence, 
which,  with  their  command  of  the  waters, 
may  be  easily  done,  leave  four  or  five 
thousand  men,  and  direct  their  operations 
to  a  more  decisive  object. 

"They  will  infallibly  proceed  either 
immediately  up  the  river  Delaware  with 
their  whole  troops ;  or,  what  is  more  prob 
able,  land  somewhere  about  South  Am 
boy  or  Shrewsbury,  and  march  straight 
to  Trenton  or  Burlington.  On  the  sup 
position  that  this  will  be  the  case,  what 
are  we  to  do  ?  What  force  have  we  ? 
What  means  have  we  to  prevent  their 
possessing  themselves  of  Philadelphia  ? 
General  Washington's  army  can  not  pos 
sibly  keep  pace  with  them.  The  length 
of  his  route  is  not  only  infinitely  greater, 
but  his  obstructions  almost  insuperable. 
In  short,  before  he  could  cross  Hudson 
river,  they  might  be  lodged  and  strongly 
fortified  on  both  banks  of  the  Delaware. 
. . .  For  Heaven's  sake,  arouse  yourselves ! 
For  Heaven's  sake,  let  ten  thousand  men 
be  immediately  assembled  and  stationed 
somewhere  about  Trenton  !  In  my  opin 
ion,  your  whole  cause  depends  upon  it.  I 
set  out  immediately  for  headquarters, 
where  I  shall  communicate  my  apprehen- 


374 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


Oct.  16. 


sion  that  such  will  be  the  next  operation 
of  the  enemy,  and  urge  the  expediency 
of  sparing  a  part  of  his  army  (if  he  has 
any  to  spare)  for  this  object.":;: 

A  few  days  after  writing  this  letter, 
General  Lee  had  an  opportunity  of  ma 
king  known  his  views  and  sustaining  his 
opinions  before  a  council  of  war  called 
by  Washington.  A  warm  dis 
cussion  took  place,  and  Lee  was 
among  the  foremost  in  the  debate,  stren 
uously  urging  the  necessity  of  extending 
the  American  lines  toward  East  and  West 
Chester,  in  order  to  outflank  the  enemy, 
whose  purpose  evidently  was  to  hem  in 
Washington  by  drawing  a  line  in  his  rear. 
There  was  considerable  opposition  to  his 
views,  it  being  contended  that  the  island 
of  New  York,  as  it  was  well  defended  by 
strong  posts,  and  difficult  of  access,  might 
be  held,  and  that  it  was  there  that  the 
army  should  remain  and  await  the  attack 
of  the  enemy.  Lee  asked  what  they 
meant  by  thinking  of  holding  their  posi 
tion,  while  Howe  had  the  command  of 
the  water  on  each  side  of  them,  and  was 
so  strong  both  in  front  and  rear,  and  there 
was  but  a  single  communication  with  the 
mainland  held  by  themselves,  and  that 
only  a  bridge  (King's  bridge),  over  which 
they  must  pass  to  escape  being  enclosed. 
He  declared  that  it  was  fallacious  to  sup 
pose  a  position  was  good  merely  because 
its  approaches  were  difficult,- and  stoutly 
argued  against  the  policy  of  having  any 
thing  to  do  with  the  islands,  adding  that 
for  his  part  he  "  would  give  Mr.  Howe  a 
fee  simple  in  them." 

*  Amoncan  Archives,  fifth  series,   11,  1008,  quoted  by 
Irvine. 


These  opinions,  emphatically  express 
ed,  evidently  had  their  effect;  so  that 
when  the  question  was  put — "  Whether, 
it  having  appeared  that  the  obstructions 
in  the  North  river  have  proved  insuffi 
cient,  and  that  the  enemy's  whole  force 
is  in  our  rear  at  Throgg's  point,  it  is  now 
deemed  possible  in  our  present  situation 
to  prevent  the  enemy  from  cutting  off 
the  communication  with  the  country,  and 
compelling  us  to  fight  them  at  all  disad 
vantages  or  surrender  prisoners  at  discre 
tion?" —  it  was  agreed,  with  the  single 
dissenting  voice  of  General  Clinton,  that 
it  was  not  possible  to  prevent  the  com 
munication  from  being  cut  off,  and  that 
one  of  the  consequences  mentioned  must 
certainly  follow. 

Lee  was  equally  emphatic  in  denoun 
cing  the  attempt  to  hold  Fort  Washing 
ton,  but  not  equally  successful  in  impres 
sing  the  council  with  his  views.  The  gen 
erals  were  probably  influenced  by  a  late 
resolution  of  Congress,  desiring  Washing 
ton,  "  by  every  art  and  at  whatever  ex 
pense,  to  obstruct  effectually  the  naviga 
tion  of  the  river  between  Fort  Washing 
ton  and  Mount  Constitution,  as  well  to 
prevent  the  regress  of  the  enemy's  frig 
ates  lately  gone  up,  as  to  hinder  them 
from  receiving  succor."  Apart  from  this, 
there  were  some  who  believed  that  the 
fort  should  be  held  at  all  risks.  Among 
them  was  General  Greene,  who  was  sta 
tioned  at  Fort  Lee.  He  contended  that 
the  possession  of  Fort  Washington  would 
divert  a  large  body  of  the  enemy,  and 
thus  divide  the  force  of  Howe ;  and  that 
it,  in  conjunction  with  Fort  Lee  opposite, 
would  serve  to  cover  the  transportation 


REVOLUTIONARY,  j 


WILLIAM  HEATH. 


375 


Oct.  22. 


of  provisions  and  other  articles  up  the 
North  river  for  the  service  of  the  Ameri 
can  troops.  He  moreover  held  that,  at 
the  worst,  the  garrison  would  be  safe,  as 
they  could  be  conveyed  away  at  any  mo 
ment  by  boats  from  the  Jersey  side  of 
the  river.  It  was  finally  agreed  by  the 
council  of  war  that  Fort  Washington  be 
retained  as  long  as  possible.  More  than 
two  thousand  men  were  accordingly  as 
signed  for  that  purpose  ;  and  Colonel  Ma- 
gaw,  to  whom  the  command  was  given, 
was  urged  to  defend  the  position  to  the 
last. 

Sir  William  Ho  we,  reinforced  by  a  large 
body  of  Hessians  under  General  Knyp- 
hausen,  just  arrived  from  Germa 
ny,  continued  to  gather  his  forces 
on  the  New- York  border  of  the  sound, 
and  to  extend  them  northward. 

Washington,  in  the  meantime,  having 
stationed  Lee  on  Valentine's  hill,  beyond 
Kingsbridge,  with  one  of  the  four  divis 
ions  of  the  army,  the  rest  followed  and 
formed  a  line  of  detached  camps  along 
the  western  side  of  the  river  Bronx,  ex 
tending  from  Lee's  position  to  White 
Plains,  a  distance  of  thirteen  miles.  The 
chief  himself  abandoned  the  Morris  man 
sion,  on  Harlem  heights,  and,  after  re 
maining  a  few  days  with  Lee  at  Valen 
tine's  hill,  established  his  headquarters 
near  White  Plains.  General  Heath,  who 
had  the  command  of  the  division  of  the 
army  toward  Long-island  sound,  was  di 
rected  to  watch  and  harass  the  enemy  as 
much  as  possible  in  that  quarter,  while 
landing  and  marching  into  the  interior. 

WILLIAM  HEATH,  a  native  of  Koxbury, 
in  Massachusetts,  like  many  of  the  New- 


'England  officers,  was  a  farmer,  and  had 
left  the  plough  to  gird  on  the  sword.  He 
had,  however,  according  to  his  own  ac 
count,  a  very  early  proclivity  toward 
martial  life,  and  read  every  book  which 
fell  in  his  way  on  military  tactics,  until 
he  became,  as  he  tells  us,  quite  a  profi 
cient  in  the  theory  of  war.  He  was  com 
missioned  by  the  Congress  of  his  own 
province,  in  1775.  During  the  siege  of 
Boston,  he  was  present  as  a  general  offi 
cer,  but  when  offered  the  command  of 
a  division,  "he  declined  the  hazardous 
service."*  Having  been  appointed  a  few 
months  before  by  Congress  a  major-gen 
eral  in  the  continental  army,  he  was  now 
in  command  of  one  of  its  divisions.  Heath 
was  in  person  corpulent  and  bald-headed, 
and  seemed  flattered  by  being  reminded 
that  he  resembled  the  marquis  of  Gran- 
by.  He  had  little  opportunity  of  playing 
the  hero,  but  proved  himself  an  officer 
who  was  always  faithful  to  duty ;  and, 
though  of  an  easy  temper,  he  was  not 
without  spirit  when  called  upon  to  sus 
tain  his  own  dignity  or  the  honor  of  his 
country. 

Howe  did  not  succeed  in  marching  in 
to  position  without  some  stout  resistance. 
Glover's  brigade  was  on  the  alert,  and  dis 
puted  the  ground  with  the  advancing  par 
ties  ;  and  battalions  of  American  riflemen, 
stationed  behind  the  stone-fences,  suc 
ceeded  in  greatly  annoying  them.  Twice 
the  British  were  repulsed,  and  it  was  not 
until  they  came  up  for  the  third  time, 
and  in  solid  columns,  that  they  were  able 
to  force  their  way.  The  right  and  cen 
tre  of  Howe's  army  now  moved  two  miles 

*  Timelier. 


376 

to  the  northward  of  New  Rochelle,  on  the 
road  to  White  Plains. 

The  two  armies,  in  the  course  of  this 
simultaneous  movement,  were  for  some 
distance  in  a  line  with  each  other  from 
north  to  south,  and  several  skirmishes 
ensued  between  the  outposts.  The  great 
desire  of  the  Americans  to  get  hold  of 
that  slippery  rogue,  Colonel  Rogers,  was 
very  nearly  being  gratified.  Howe,  when 
encamped  beyond  New  Rochelle,  ordered 
Rogers  with  his  Queen's  Rangers  to  take 
possession  of  Mamaroneck,  and  there  es 
tablish  an  outpost.  Lord  Stirling,  who 
had  now  rejoined  the  army  (having  been 
lately  exchanged),  heard  of  the  where 
abouts  of  Rogers,  and  determined,  if  pos 
sible,  to  entrap  him.  A  detachment  of 
Colonel  Haslet's  "  Delawares  and  Mary- 
landers"  were  selected  for  the  purpose, 
and  the  night  was  chosen,  in  or 
der  that  darkness  might  increase 
the  chances  of  a  successful  surprise.  Ev 
erything  was  conducted  with  great  cau 
tion,  and  the  Americans  succeeded  in 
coming  upon  the  "Rangers"  and  taking 
them  unawares.  The  guard  and  an  offi 
cer  were  put  to  the  sword,  thirty-six  were 
taken  prisoners,  and  a  pair  of  colors,  sixty 
stand  of  arms,  and  a  supply  of  clothing 
and  provisions,  captured.  Rogers,  how 
ever,  succeeded  in  making  his  escape, 
having  skulked  off  in  the  dark. 

These  skirmishes  became  quite  fre 
quent,  and  the  spirit  with  which  the 
Americans  conducted  them  forced  Howe 
to  extreme  vigilance,  and  checked  the 
confidence  and  rapidity  of  his  move 
ments.  Washington  thus,  together  with 
Howe's  delay  in  landing.,  was  enabled  to 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


outflank  him.  The  whole  movement  of 
the  Americans  was  well  conducted.  By 
keeping  the  Bronx  river  on  his  right,  and 
presenting  a  constant  front  of  well-pro 
tected  posts  to  the  enemy,  Washington 
was  enabled  to  remove  his  stores  and  bag 
gage,  and  rapidly  to  extend  his  line  so 
far  into  the  country,  as  to  defeat  the  en 
emy's  intention  of  getting  in  his  rear  and 
hemming  him  in. 

At  White  Plains,  where  Washington 
had  proceeded  with  the  advanced  divis 
ion,  he  chose  and  fortified  his  position  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  afford  a  cover  for 
his  whole  army.  He  defended  the  front 
of  his  camp,  which  was  situated  on  high 
ground,  by  a  double  line  of  intrench- 
ments.  The  right  wing,  as  well  as  part 
of  the  rear,  was  protected  by  a  bend  of 
the  river  Bronx,  while  the  left  was  se 
cured  by  a  deep  lake.  As  the  British 
continued  to  advance,  and  after  Wash 
ington  had  succeeded  in  bringing  up  all 
his  baggage  and  stores,  he  ordered  the 
detached  posts  to  be  abandoned, and  with 
drew  all  his  army,  with  the  exception  of 
the  garrison  at  Fort  Washington,  within 
his  fortified  camp  at  White  Plains. 

Lee,  of  course,  came  in  with  his  divis 
ion,  and  none  was  more  conspicuous  than 
he,  looked  up  to  as  he  was  by  all  for  his 
supposed  military  skill,  and  made  not  the 
less  remarkable  by  his  whims  and  oddi 
ties.  He  lodged  in  a  small  house  near 
the  road  by  which  General  Washington 
and  his  officers  frequently  passed  when 
out  reconnoitring.  On  returning,  they 
would  occasionally  stop  and  take  a  din 
ner  with  Lee  —  not,  perhaps,  so  much  on 
account  of  the  good  fare  of  the  house,  as 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         WASHINGTON  AND  LEE  AT  WHITE  PLAINS. 


377 


for  the  amusing  characteristics  of  the  host. 
Lee,  however,  affected  to  be  annoyed  by 
these  frequent  visits,  and  said  one  day  to 
his  aids:  "You  must  look  me  out  anoth 
er  place,  for  I  shall  have  Washington  and 
all  his  puppies  continually  calling  upon 
me,  and  they  will  eat  me  up  !"  The  next 
morning,  seeing  Washington,  surrounded 
by  a  suite  of  officers,  coming  up  the  road, 
the  eccentric  Lee,  expecting  another  vis 
it,  ordered  his  servant  to  chalk  upon  the 
door  of  his  house,  "  No  victuals  dressed 
here  to-day."  When  the  cavalcade  of 
the  chief  passed  by  and  read  the  obvious 
hint,  they  spurred  on  their  horses,  and 
laughingly  returned  to  dine  that  day  at 
their  own  quarters. 

Lee,  notwithstanding,  was  one  of  the 
most  frequent  companions  of  Washington 
on  these  reconnoitring  expeditions,  and, 
with  no  modest  reserve,  was  always  of 
his  opinions  very  free  in  criticising  the  dis 
position  of  the  army.  Washington  had 
a  deservedly  great  opinion  of  Lee's  mili 


tary  talents,  and  always  listened  to  his 
suggestions  with  marked  attention.  On 
one  occasion,  the  two  rode  out  together, 
in  company  with  some  officers,  when  Lee 
objected  to  the  ground  occupied  by  the 
army,  and,  pointing  to  some  heights  in 
the  distance,  said,  "  Yonder  is  the  ground 
we  ought  to  occupy." — "Let  us,  then, 
go  and  view  it,"  answered  Washington. 
He  had,  however,  hardly  turned  his  steed 
in  that  direction,  when  a  light-horseman 
rode  up  in  haste,  and  quickly  exclaimed, 
"The  British  are  in  the  camp,  sir!"  — 
"  Then,  gentlemen,  we  have  now  other 
business  than  reconnoitring,"  said  Wash 
ington  ;  and  he  galloped  with  all  speed 
back  to  the  camp,  followed  by  his  com 
panions.  On  reaching  his  headquarters, 
he  was  informed  that  the  advance-guards 
had  been  driven  in,  and  that  the  enemy 
were  advancing.  Washington  then  dis 
missed  his  officers,  saying,  "  Gentlemen, 
you  will  repair  to  your  respective  posts, 
and  do  the  best  you  can.":S: 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

Washington  takes  a  Final  Survey. — The  Battle  of  White  Plains. — "A  Brilliant  but  Formidable  Sight." — A  Sudden 
Change  in  Howe's  Tactics. — The  Struggle. — The  British  twice  driven  back. — Young  Alexander  Hamilton  secures  his 
Fieldpieces. — The  End. — The  Loss. — The  "  Terrible  Horse." — The  Sufferings  and  Hardships  of  the  American  Troops. 
— Contempt  of  the  British. — Hard  Work  with  Spade  and  Pick. — A  Night  of  Expectations. — An  Incident. — Washington 
retires  with  his  Whole  Army. — Howe  outmanoeuvred. — Evacuation  of  White  Plains. — Burning  of  the  Church. — The 
Denunciation  of  the  Act  by  Washington. 


1776, 


THOUGH  the  intelligence  of  the 
advance  of  the  enemy  came  some 
what  suddenly  to  Washington  and  his  re 
connoitring-party,  the  army  had  already 

48 


been  posted  in  order  of  battle,  and  was 
not  unprepared  to  meet  the  threatened 
attack.  Washington, however,  rode  along 

*  Heath's  Memoirs,  p.  77. 


378 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    TI. 


the  lines  to  take  a  final  survey,  to  en 
courage  his  men,  and  make  such  changes 
in  the  disposition  of  his  troops  as  the  cir 
cumstances  of  the  moment  might  suggest. 
On  the  right,  within  a  short  distance  of 
the  camp,  there  was  a  height  called  Chat- 
terton's  hill.  This  was  an  advantageous 
position,  as  it  commanded  the  right  wing, 
which,  however,  was  somewhat  protected 
by  the  river  Bronx,  which  enclosed  by  its 
windings  that  part  of  the  camp  within  an 
elbow.  Some  militia  had  already  been 
posted  upon  the  hill ;  but  Washington 
now  sent  Colonel  Haslet,  with  his  spirit 
ed  Delawares  and  Marylanders,  and  two 
pieces  of  artillery  under  Captain  Alexan 
der  Hamilton,  to  reinforce  the  position, 
while  General  M'Dougall  was  ordered  to 
take  the  command  of  the  whole. 

The  enemy  now  showed  them 
selves,  advancing  in  great  force 
along  the  acclivities  of  the  heights  upon 
which  they  had  been  encamped.  They 
came  on  in  two  columns,  their  right  un 
der  the  command  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
and  their  left  under  the  Hessian  De  Heis- 
ter.  It  was  a  fine  October  noon,  and  the 
arms  and  gay  accoutrements  of  the  well- 
appointed  army  glistening  in  the  mid-day 
sun,  appeared  to  the  eyes  of  the  Ameri 
cans  "a  brilliant  but  a  formidable  sight." 
The  solid  British  columns  moved  stead 
ily  on,  bearing  directly  for  Washington's 
front,  apparently  with  the  view  of  driving 
everything  before  them  by  main  strength. 
As  they  approach  the  village  of  White 
Plains,  and  toward  the  American  breast 
works,  there  is  a  sudden  pause  in  the 
march,  as  if  momentarily  hesitating  in 
their  purpose.  The  general  officers  ride 


Oct.  28. 


up  and  gather  together  in  the  middle  of 
a  wheatfield,  and  hold  council.  Soon  the 
result  is  apparent:  Howe  changes  his  pur 
pose.  His  right  and  centre  are  still  mo 
tionless.,  but  there  is  a  great  stir  on  his 
left.  The  artillery  is  rapidly  drawn  into 
position  and  pointed  toward  Chatterton 
hill,  on  Washington's  right ;  and  working- 
parties  hurry  forward  to  the  Bronx  river, 
followed  by  a  large  detachment  of  Brit 
ish  and  Hessian  troops,  commanded  by 
General  Leslie.  At  the  same  moment,  a 
Hessian  brigade,  under  Colonel  Rahl,  falls 
back  to  some  distance  from  the  left  wing, 
and  covers  the  Bronx  below. 

General  Leslie,  under  the  cover  of  the 
artillery,  which  keeps  up  a  constant  and 
heavy  fire,  passes  over  with  his  whole  de 
tachment,and,  leaving  his  cavalry  to  skirt 
the  base,  pushes  directly  up  the  hill  with 
his  body  of  grenadiers  and  lightrinfantry. 
His  troops  are  th'nned  by  the  two  field 
pieces  under  the  skilful  handling  of  the 
young  Hamilton,  and  severely  galled  by 
the  musketry  of  the  Marylanders.  Rahl 
has  in  the  meantime  crossed  the  river  be 
low,  and  is  ascending  the  hill  toward  the 
right  flank  of  the  Americans.  The  two 
detachments  now  form  a  junction  and 
throng  up  the  heights  together,  filling 
every  ravine  and  covering  every  acclivi 
ty  with  their  numbers. 

The  American  militia  soon  disposed  of 
themselves.  A  shot  from  the  enemy's 
artillery  at  the  beginning  of  the  engage 
ment  had  carried  away  one  man's  thigh, 
and  so  frightened  the  others,  that  Gener 
al  M'Dougall  had  great  difficulty  in  keep 
ing  them  from  running  away.  He  finally 
posted  them,however,  behind  some  stone- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  WHITE  PLAINS. 


379 


walls,  and  had  got  them  in  a  fair  way  of 
doing  some  service,  when  the  sight  of 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  British  light- 
horse,  dashing  about  the  base  of  the  hill, 
so  alarmed  them,  that  they  at  once  took 
to  their  heels ! 

The  combined  force  of  Leslie  and  Rahl 
did  not  gain  the  summit  of  the  hill  with 
out  a  hard  fight.  M'Dougall,  by  the  cow 
ardice  of  the  militia,  had  been  left  with 
only  six  hundred  men.  but  these  were 
the  brave  troops  of  Haslet,  Smallwood, 
andRitzema,and  they  clung  to  the  ground 
with  such  resolution,  and  resisted  the  en 
emy  so  spiritedly,  that  the  British  were 
twice  driven  back,  and  did  not  finally  win 
the  position  until  after  a  hard  struggle, 
wdiich  lasted  for  nearly  an  hour.  Gen 
eral  M'Dougall  brought  off  the  remnant 
of  his  men  in  good  order,  who  disputed 
every  inch  of  ground  with  the  enemy,  as 
the  latter  pursued  them  down  the  hill, 
until  they  were  met  by  General  Putnam 
and  a  detachment  of  troops  to  cover  their 
retreat  to  the  camp.  Young  Hamilton 
succeeded  in  securing  his  two  effective 
fieldpieces,  and  nothing  was  left  behind 
but  the  bare  breastworks  upon  the  hill. 
Even  the  wounded  were  carefully  carried 
off  the  field.  The  loss  on  both  sides  was 
about  equal,  amounting  to  some  three 
hundred  each  in  killed,  wounded,  and  ta 
ken  prisoners. 

The  British,  in  possession  of  Chatter- 
ton  hill,  busied  themselves  in  strengthen 
ing  the  position  by  additional  intrench- 
ments  and  breastworks.  General  Howe 
contented  himself  for  the  rest  of  the  day 
with  the  success  of  the  morning,  and  tow 
ard  evening  merely  moved  his  right  wing 


closer  to  the  American  camp,  so  that  his 
whole  front  presented  a  semicircle.     The 
British  troops,  resting  on  their  arms  du 
ring  the  night,  waited  for  further  actio 
until  the  coming  of  the  next  day. 

The  American  militiamen,  who  had 
been  so  frightened  by  the  sight  of  the 
English  cavalry,  gradually  in  scattered 
groups  found  their  way  back  to  the  lines 
from  the  neighboring  hills  to  which  they 
had  fled.  The  undisciplined  provincial 
troops  seem  to  have  had  as  great  a  dread 
of  a  horse  with  a  trooper  on  his  back  as 
the  ancient  Mexicans  when  they  beheld 
the  mounted  warriors  of  Cortez.  Wash 
ington,  perceiving  that  this  absurd  fear 
of  cavalry  was  creating  a  great  deal  of 
mischief,  found  it  necessary  to  issue  an 
order,  in  which  he  says  :  "  Observing  that 
the  army  seems  unacquainted  with  the 
enemy's  horse,  and  that  when  any  par 
ties  meet  with  them  they  do  not  oppose 
them  with  the  same  alacrity  which  they 
show  in  other  cases,  thinks  it  necessary 
to  inform  the  officers  and  soldiers  that, 
in  such  a  broken  country,  full  of  stone 
walls,  no  enemy  is  more  to  be  despised, 
as  they  can  not  leave  the  road."  Wash 
ington  then  tells  his  militiamen  that  they 
can  at  any  time  attack  a  body  of  horse 
to  advantage  by  taking  post  in  the  woods 
by  the  roads,  or  along  the  stone-walls, 
where  mounted  troops  will  not  venture 
to  follow  them.  Moreover,  "as  an  en 
couragement  to  any  brave  parties  who 
will  endeavor  to  surprise  some  of  them," 
the  general  "  offers  one  hundred  dollars 
for  every  trooper,  with  his  horse  and  ac 
coutrements,  who  shall  be  brought  in, 
and  so  in  proportion  for  any  part,  to  be 


380 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPATCT  n. 


divided  according  to  the  rank  and  the 
pay  of  the  party." 

General  Howe  was  no  less  disposed  to 
take  advantage  of  this  terror  of  cavalry 
than  Washington  was  to  remove  it.  Hav 
ing  early  observed  how  apt  the  militia 
were  to  be  scared  away  by  a  show  of 
mounted  troops  brandishing  their  swords, 
Howe  took  care  to  collect  throughout  the 
country  all  the  horses  he  could,  in  order 
to  keep  up  his  cavalry  regiments,  which 
had  been  greatly  thinned  by  the  losses 
at  sea  in  the  course  of  the  long  voyages 
of  the  transports.  He  also  wrote  to  the 
British  government  for  an  additional  sup 
ply  ;  and,  whenever  occasion  offered,  he 
was  sure  to  send  out  his  mounted  troop 
ers,  to  make  as  clattering  and  brilliant  a 
dash  as  possible,  in  order  to  frighten  the 
weak  nerves  of  the  uninitiated. 

Washington  was  expecting  an  attack 
at  any  moment.  His  lines  were  accord 
ingly  manned  during  the  whole  night, 
and  the  men  kept  at  work  at  the  redoubts 
and  breastworks,  with  but  rare  intervals 
of  repose,  when  they  were  forced  to  lie 
down  in  the  "  cold  trenches."  So  much 
exposed,  so  hard-worked,  and  in  such  a 
wretched  condition  (from  want  of  proper 
food  and  clothing),  were  the  American 
troops,  that  some  of  the  officers  began  to 
believe  that  if  the  enemy  did  not  destroy 
the  American  army,  it  would  perish  of 
itself  without  fighting.  The  British  offi 
cers  looked  on  all  this  misery  with  undis 
guised  contempt,  and  spoke  mockingly 
of  "  the  tatterdemalions  who  have  but  a 
few  coats  among  them  but  what  are  out 
of  elbows,"  and  of  "  whole  regiments  in 
which  there  is  scarce  a  pair  of  breech- 


Oct,  29, 


es."*  We  shall  find,  however,  that  these 
"  tatterdemalion,"  ragged  and  shirtless  as 
they  were,  succeeded  under  Washington 
in  checking  and  outmanoeuvring  all  the 
brilliant  and  haughty  battalions  mar 
shalled  by  Sir  William  Howe  and  his 
proud  staff  of  officers. 

Meager  as  Washington's  resources  were, 
he  made  the  most  of  them  ;  and  in  justice 
to  his  troops  it  may  be  stated  that  how 
ever  poor  a  military  show  they  might 
make  in  battle  array,  they  were  indefati 
gable  in  their  labors  with  the  pick  and 
the  spade.  They  worked  well  and  long 
during  that  night  of  anxious  expectation, 
and,  before  morning,  had  doubled  the  in- 
trenchments  and  raised  three  re 
doubts.  The  breastworks  were 
rudely  made  of  the  best  material  at  hand. 
Cornstalks  were  plucked  from  the  neigh 
boring  fields,  and  served,  with  the  earth 
clinging  to  their  roots,  the  purpose  of 
sods  and  fascines. 

General  Howre,  when  he  observed  the 
result  of  one  night's  work  upon  Washing 
ton's  line,  seemed  in  no  disposition  to  be 
gin  a  general  attack ;  and,  waiting  for 
reinforcements,  he  limited  himself  to  an 
occasional  skirmish  with  the  more  ad 
vanced  American  posts.  Early  in  the 
morning,  however,  he  moved  his  right 
wing  still  closer  to  the  left  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  Washington  supposed  that  Howe's 
design  was  to  get  to  his  rear,  according 
to  his  original  plan.  Every  measure  was 
taken,  therefore,  to  prevent  this  move 
ment.  The  stores  and  baggage  were  hur 
ried  toward  the  rear  as  fast  as  possible, 
and  the  left  of  the  army  fell  some  dis- 

*  Quoted  by  Irving. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


A  SKIRMISH— THE  WIDOWS  GARDEN. 


381 


tance  back,  to  prevent  being  outflanked 
by  Howe's  advancing  right  wing.  When 
this  manoeuvre  of  the  enemy  began,  Wash 
ington's  secretary  was  writing  to  Congress 
thus  :  u  Our  post,  from  its  situation,  is  not 
so  advantageous  as  could  be  wished,  and 
was  only  intended  as  temporary  and  oc 
casional,  till  the  stores  belonging  to  the 
army,  which  had  been  deposited  here, 
could  be  removed.  The  enemy  coming 
on  so  suddenly  has  distressed  us  much. 
They  are  now  close  at  hand,  and  most 
probably  will  in  a  little  time  commence 
their  second  attack ;  we  expect  it  every 
hour;  perhaps  it  is  beginning.  I  have 
just  heard  the  report  of  some  cannon." 

The  firing  which  was  heard  by  the  sec 
retary  came  from  a  hot  skirmish  between 
a  detachment  of  Hessians  and  Colonel 
Glover's  brigade.  The  colonel  held  pos 
session  of  a  height  in  advance  of  the 
American  camp,  where  he  had  posted  his 
troops  behind  a  breastwork  mounted  with 
one  brass  twenty-four,  a  six  and  a  three 
pounder,  and  three  iron  twelve-pounders. 
As  the  British  closed  in  with  their  col 
umns,  in  order  to  approach  nearer  to  the 
American  camp,  Glover  determined  to 
harass  them.  Their  line  extends  from 
right  to  left,  with  the  cavalry  and  artil 
lery  in  front,  as  far  as  can  be  seen,  and 
no  less  a  number  than  twelve  thousand 
men  appear  to  be  under  arms.  They  ap 
proach  Glover's  position, but  he  withholds 
his  fire  until  some  of  the  troops  have  en 
tered  a  valley  and  are  about  to  ascend 
the  heights  which  bound  it.  He  then 
begins  with  his  three-pounder,  next  with 
his  six,  and  finally  writh  his  twenty-four. 
The  British  are  much  confused  by  this 


brisk  cannonade,  but  persevere  in  trying 
to  mount  the  high  ground  with  their 
light-horse  and  artillery.  After  firing  a 
few  rounds,  however,  they  are  obliged  to 
retire,  and  content  themselves  with  a  po 
sition  farther  back,  and  out  of  reach  of 
Glover's  cannon. 

Howe  evidently  was  not  disposed  to 
risk  a  general  engagement ;  and,  having 
encamped  his  army  within  "  long  cannon- 
shot"  of  the  American  lines,  he 
awaited  the  arrival  of  reinforce 
ments  under  Earl  Percy,  who  had  been 
ordered  up  from  Harlem,  where  he  was 
stationed. 

While  the  two  armies  lay  opposite  to 
each  other,  an  incident  occurred  which  a 
diligent  annalist  has  not  thought  too  friv 
olous  to  record,  in  the  absence,  during 
that  night  of  expectation,  of  more  impor 
tant  events.  It  happened  that  a  garden 
of  a  widow  woman,  which  lay  between 
the  two  hostile  camps,  had  been  repeat 
edly  robbed.  Her  son,  a  mere  boy,  and 
"little  of  his  age,"  asked  permission  to 
try  to  find  out  and  secure  the  thief,  in 
case  he  should  return.  His  mother  hav 
ing  consented,  the  lad,  armed  with  a  gun, 
concealed  himself  at  night  among  the 
overgrown  weeds  of  the  garden.  Soon 
a  great  strapping  Highlander  came  gro 
ping  his  way  among  the  cabbages,  and, 
having  filled  a  large  bag  he  carried,  pre 
pared  to  decamp.  The  lad  stole  softly 
after  him,  and,  coming  close  to  the  fellow, 
cocked  his  gun  and  called  out :  "  You  are 
my  prisoner.  If  you  attempt  to  throw 
your  bag  down,  I'll  shoot  you  dead  !  Go 
forward  in  that  road."  The  man  did  not 
venture  to  turn  around,  but  went  on  as 


382 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Oct.  30, 


he  was  bid,  with  the  boy  and  his  gun 
close  after  him,  and  was  thus  driven  into 
the  American  camp,  where  he  was  se 
cured.  The  strapping  grenadier  was  now 
permitted  to  come  to  a  halt,  whereupon 
he  threw  down  his  bag,  and  turned  to 
look  at  his  captor.  When  he  discovered 
that  he  was  a  mere  boy,  and  "little  of 
his  age,"  he  gave  vent  to  his  indignant 
vexation,  exclaiming,  "  A  British  grena 
dier  made  prisoner  by  such  a  d d  brat 

— by  such  a  d d  brat!"* 

Another  day  passed  without 
any  show  of  active  hostility.  The 
British  general,  however,  kept  his  troops 
at  work  in  entrenching  his  camp.  In  the 
evening  Earl  Percy  arrived,  and  the  next 
morning  was  appointed  for  the  attack 
upon  the  American  lines.  But  at  mid 
night,  a  heavy  storm  with  wind  and  rain 
began,  and  continued  during  the  whole 
of  the  following  day,  so  that  the  British 
commander  was  again  forced  to  remain 
inactive. 

Washington,  having  learned  from  a  de 
serter,  of  the  arrival  of  Earl  Percy,  and 
of  Howe's  intended  movements,  deter 
mined  to  shift  his  position.  According 
ly,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  he 
withdrew  his  army  from  White 
Plains,  for  a  distance  of  five  miles,  to  the 
higher  ground  toward  Newcastle  and  the 
Croton  river,  leaving  a  strong  rear-guard 
on  the  heights  and  in  the  woods  of  White 

*  Gordon. 


Oct.  31. 


Plains.  Washington's  ground  was  admi 
rably  chosen ;  and  with  the  breastworks 
which  he  threw  up,  extending  from  hill 
to  hill,  he  could  bid  defiance  to  the  ene 
my.  Howe,  becoming  aware  in  the  ear 
ly  morning  of  this  movement,  discovered 
that,  with  all  his  brilliant  advantages,  he 
had  been  outmanoeuvred,  and  that  it  wras 
hopeless  to  attempt  by  an  assault  to  dis 
lodge  the  Americans  from  their  new  po 
sition.  He  therefore  contented  himself 
with  making  a  demonstration  against 
Washington's  rear-guard  on  the  heights 
of  White  Plains;  but,  before  his  troops 
could  advance  to  the  attack,  they  were 
driven  back  again  into  camp,  to  take  shel 
ter  from  the  heavy  rain. 

During  the  night  while  the  Americans 
were  evacuating  White  Plains,  the  village 
church,  the  courthouse,  and  other  build 
ings,  were  set  on  fire  and  burnt  by  the 
order  of  a  major  in  the  command  of  the 
guards  and  sentries,  wrhile  "  heated  with 
liquor."  Washington  was  indignant  at 
this  act,  and  warmly  expressed  himself 
upon  the  subject,  saying  in  the  general 
order  of  the  next  day :  "  It  is  with  the 
utmost  astonishment  and  abhorrence  that 
the  general  is  informed  that  some  base 
and  cowardly  wretches  last  night  set  fire 
to  the  courthouse  and  other  buildings, 
which  the  enemy  had  left.  The  army 
may  rely  on  it  that  they  shall  be  brought 
to  justice,  and  meet  with  the  punishment 
they  deserve." 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  BRITISH  RETREAT— AMERICANS  REVOLT. 


383 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

The  Enemy  decamp. — Puzzling  Conduct. — Washington  still  worried  about  the  Army. — Rebellion  among  the  Troops. — 
The  Americans  abandon  Fort  Independence,  &c.,  on  the  Approach  of  the  Enemy. — Fort  Washington  strengthened. — 
Doubts  about  holding  it. — Washington  opposed,  Greene  in  favor,  and  carries  the  Day. — Washington  at  Peekskill. — 
The  Great  Preparations  of  the  Enemy  against  Fort  Washington. — Description  of  the  Fort. — The  Fort  invested. — Sum 
mons  to  surrender. — Magaw's  Spirited  Response. — The  Defences. — Operations  of  the  Assailants. 


1776, 


THE  British,  after  remaining  sev 
eral  days  in  front  of  the  American 
lines  without  attempting  anything,  final 
ly  broke  up  their  encampments  on  the 
4th  of  November,  and  marched  toward 
the  North  river  and  Kingsbridge.  Their 
purpose  was  a  matter  of  anxious  specu 
lation  in  Washington's  camp.  Some  sup 
posed  that  they  were  going  into  winter- 
quarters,  and  would  sit  down  in  New  York, 
content  with  doing  nothing  more  than  in 
vesting  Fort  Washington.  The  general 
himself  wrote  :  "  I  can  not  subscribe  whol 
ly  to  this  opinion  myself.  That  they  will 
invest  Fort  Washington  is  a  matter  of 
which  there  can  be  no  doubt  ;  and  I  think 
there  is  a  strong  probability  that  General 
Howe  will  detach  a  part  of  his  force  to 
make  an  incursion  into  the  Jerseys,  pro 
vided  he  is  going  to  New  York.  He  must 
attempt  something  on  account  of  his  rep 
utation  ;  for  what  has  he  done  as  yet  with 
his  great  army  ?"  Governor  Livingston, 
of  New  Jersey,  to  whom  this  letter  was 
written,  was  then  urged  by  Washington 
to  place  the  militia  of  his  state  on  the 
best  possible  footing,  and  recommended 
to  see  that  the  inhabitants  contiguous  to 
the  water  should  be  prepared  to  remove 
their  stock,  grains,  effects,  and  carriages, 


upon  the  earliest  notice.  Washington 
believed  that  New  Jersey  was  to  be  the 
scene  of  the  coming  campaign,  and  de 
clared  that,  as  soon  as  he  was  satisfied 
that  the  movement  just  made  by  the  en 
emy  was  a  real  retreat,  and  not  a  feint, 
he  would,  with  the  utmost  expedition, 
throw  over  into  Jersey  a  body  of  troops, 
to  assist  in  checking  Howe's  progress. 

Washington  was  still  anxious  lest  he 
should  be  left  almost  without  troops.  The 
dissolution  of  the  army  was  fast  approach 
ing,  and  there  seemed  but  little  prospect 
of  levying  a  new  one.  "  The  situation  of 
our  affairs,"  he  says,  "  is  critical  and  alarm 
ing."*  He  wrote  to  the  assembly  of  Mas 
sachusetts  to  raise  at  once  four  thousand 
men  properly  accoutred  and  equipped,  to 
supply  the  place  of  those  under  General 
Lincoln,  who  it  was  feared  would  not  be 
prevailed  upon  to  stay  a  moment  longer 
than  the  time  they  first  engaged  for. 

The  New- York  militia  were  in  a  state 
of  mutiny,  and,  refusing  to  do  duty,  de 
clared  that  General  Howe  had  promised 
them  peace,  liberty ',  and  safety,  and  that  was 
all  they  wanted.  "  What  is  to  be  done 
with  them  ?"  writes  General  Greene,  who 
had  come  over  from  Fort  Lee,  and  found 
the  New-Yorkers  stationed  at  Kingsbridge 


384 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATIT    II. 


in  this  condition  of  almost  open  revolt. 
"This  spirit,"  he  declares,  "should  be 
checked  in  its  infancy —  I  propose,"  he 
adds,  "  to  send  to  the  colonel  about  fifty 
men,  and  I  have  directed  him  to  acquaint 
the  militia  that  if  they  refuse  to  do  duty, 
agreeably  to  the  orders  of  the  state,  I 
will  send  up  a  regiment  and  order  them 
to  Fort  Lee,  to  do  duty  there." 

Knyphausen  had  been  despatched  by 
General  Howe,  previous  to  his  own  move 
ment  in  that  direction,  with  six  battalions 
of  Hessians  and  Waldeckers,  to  take  pos 
session  of  Kingsbridge.  He  started  from 
New  Rochelle,  and  marched  across  the 
country  to  the  west,  and,  after  crossing 
the  Harlem  river  at  Dykeman's  bridge, 
took  up  his  post  on  a  plain  near  King's 
bridge.  The  Americans,  deserting  Fort 
Independence  and  all  the  works  in  that 
neighborhood  on  his  approach,  retired  to 
Fort  Washington. 

General  Howe  had  now  reached  the 
North  river  with  his  main  body,  and  was 

encamped  at  Dobbs's  ferry.     A 
Nov.  6.      _ .  J± 

frigate  and  two  transports  were 

immediately  despatched  by  his  brother, 
Lord  Howe,  from  the  fleet  in  New-York 
harbor,  to  carry  supplies  to  the  general. 
They  succeeded  without  difficulty  in  pas 
sing  through  the  chcvaux-de-fnse  and  the 
forts  again,  and  anchored  safely  in  the 
river.  As  the  main  purpose  of  holding 
Fort  Washington  seemed  to  be  thus  en 
tirely  frustrated,  the  commander-in-chief 
had  doubts  about  the  expediency  of  de 
fending  that  post.  He  accord- 
Nov,  8,  .  3  . 

ingly  writes  to  General  Greene  : 

''  The  late  passage  of  three  vessels  up  the 
North  river,  of  which  we  have  just  re 


ceived  advice,  is  so  plain  a  proof  of  the 
inefficacy  of  all  the  obstructions  we  have 
thrown  into  it,  that  I  can  not  but  think 
it  will  justify  a  change  in  the  disposition 
which  has  been  made.  If  we  can  not  pre 
vent  vessels  from  passing  up,  and  the  en 
emy  are  possessed  of  the  surrounding 
country,  what  valuable  purpose  can  it  an 
swer  to  attempt  to  hold  a  post  from  which 
the  expected  benefit  can  not  be  had?  I 
am  therefore  inclined  to  think  that  it  will 
not  be  prudent  to  hazard  the  men  and 
stores  at  Mount  Washington  ;  but  as  you 
are  on  the  spot,  I  leave  it  to  you  to  give 
such  orders  as  to  evacuating  Mount  Wash 
ington  as  you  may  judge  best,  and  so  for  re 
voking  the  order  given  to  Colonel  Magaw 
to  defend  it  to  the  last."  The  opinion  of 
Washington  is  here  very  explicitly  de- 
'clared  against  holding  the  post,  but  he 
modestly  waived  his  own  views,  and,  as 
he  had  great  confidence  in  Greene's  judg 
ment,  he  left  more  to  his  discretion  than 
he  otherwise  probably  would  have  done. 
The  defence  of  Fort  Washington  was 
a  pet  measure  with  Greene  ;  and,  in  spite 
of  the  opposition  of  the  commander-in- 
chief,  of  General  Lee,  Colonel  Reed,  and 
the  most  skilful  of  the  officers,  he  advo 
cated  it  with  resolute  pertinacity.  Gen 
eral  Greene  answers  Washington's  letter, 
saying  :  "  The  passing  of  the  ships  up  the 
river  is,  to  be  sure,  a  full  proof  of  the  in 
sufficiency  of  the  obstructions  to  stop  the 
ships  from  going  up ;  but  that  garrison 
employs  double  the  number  of  men  to  in 
vest  it  that  we  have  to  occupy  it.  They 
must  keep  troops  to  Kingsbridge,  to  pre 
vent  a  communication  with  the  country ; 
and  they  dare  not  leave  a  very  small 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J 


WASHINGTON'S  INSTRUCTIONS  TO  LEE. 


385 


number,  for  fear  our  people  should  attack 
them.  Upon  the  whole,  I  can  not  help 
thinking  that  the  garrison  is  of  advan 
tage  ;  and  I  can  not  conceive  it  to  be  in 
any  great  danger." 

Greene  was  confirmed  in  his  view  of 
the  strength  of  the  position  by  the  con 
fident  declaration  of  Colonel  Magaw,  in 
command  of  the  garrison,  that  it  would 
take  the  enemy,  to  get  it,  at  least  until 
the  end  of  December.  Moreover,  Greene 
held  that  if  matters  should  grow  desper 
ate,  the  men  could  be  brought  off  at  any 
time  ;  and  even  the  stores,  though  not  so 
easily  removed,  might  be  got  away.  Fi 
nally,  he  concludes, "  if  the  enemy  do  not 
find  the  fort  an  object  of  importance,  they 
will  not  trouble  themselves  about  it ;  if 
they  do,  it  is  a  full  proof  that  they  feel 
an  injury  from  our  possessing  it.  Our 
giving  it  up  will  open  a  free  communi 
cation  with  the  country  by  the  way  of 
Kingsbridge.  That  must  be  a  great  ad 
vantage  to  them,  and  injury  to  us." 

The  enemy  now  prepared  to  invest 
Fort  Washington ;  and  the  garrison,  in 
command  of  the  brave  Colonel  Magaw, 
to  defend  it. 

Washington,  believing  that  Howe  was 
preparing  for  an  expedition  to  New  Jer 
sey,  disposed  his  troops  accordingly.  The 
Maryland  and  Virginia  regiments,  under 
Lord  Stirling,  were  the  first  sent  across, 
and  the  commander-in-chief  himself  pre 
pared  soon  to  follow  them.  The  posts  in 
the  Highlands,  including  the  passes  on 
both  sides  of  the  Hudson,  and  the  upper 
forts,  Constitution,  Montgomery,  and  In 
dependence,  were  placed  under  the  com 
mand  of  the  faithful  Heath,  with  his  Con- 
49 


Nov.  II, 


necticut  and  Massachusetts  troops,  and  a 
brigade  of  New-York  militia  under  Gen 
eral  George  Clinton.  Washington  fol 
lowed  this  division  to  Peekskill, 
in  order  to  examine  the  passes 
in  the  Highlands,  and  direct  the  construc 
tion  of  such  works  as  might  be  neces 
sary. 

General  Lee  was  left  in  command  of 
the  troops  remaining  at  the  old  encamp 
ment  at  Newcastle.  The  confidence  of 
the  commander-in-chief  in  Lee's  capacity, 
as  well  as  Washington's  own  modest  ap 
preciation  of  himself  in  comparison  with 
his  high  esteem  of  his  subordinate,  may 
be  inferred  from  the  nature  of  his  "  in 
structions." 

"  The  late  movement  of  the  enemy," 
says  Washington, "  and  the  probability  of 
their  having  designs  upon  the  Jerseys, 
confirmed  by  sundry  accounts  from  de 
serters  and  prisoners;  rendering  it  neces 
sary  to  throw  a  body  of  troops  over  the 
North  river,  I  shall  immediately  follow, 
and  the  command  of  the  army  which 
remains,  after  General  Heath's  division 
marches  to  Peekskill,  will  devolve  upon 
you. 

u  A  little  time  now  must  manifest  the 
enemy's  designs,  and  point  out  to  you 
the  measures  proper  to  be  pursued  by 
that  part  of  the  army  under  your  com 
mand.  I  shall  give  no  directions,  there 
fore,  on  this  head,  having  the  most  entire 
confidence  in  your  judgment  and  milita 
ry  exertions.  One  thing,  however,  I  will 
suggest,  namely,  that  the  appearance  of 
embarking  troops  for  the  Jerseys  may  be 
intended  as  a  feint  to  weaken  us,  and  rea 
der  the  strong  post  we  now  hold  more 


386 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


vulnerable ;  or  the  enemy  may  find  that 
troops  are  assembled  with  more  expedi 
tion  and  in  greater  numbers  than  they 
expected,  on  the  Jersey  shore,  to  oppose 
them ;  and  as  it  is  possible,  from  one  or 
the  other  of  these  motives,  that  they  may 
yet  pay  the  army  under  your  command 
a  visit,  it  will  be  unnecessary,  I  am  per 
suaded,  to  recommend  to  you  the  pro 
priety  of  putting  this  post,  if  you  stay  at 
it,  into  a  proper  posture  of  defence,  and 
of  guarding  against  surprises.  But  I 
would  recommend  it  to  your  considera 
tion,  whether,  should  the  above  conjec 
tures  be  realized,  your  retiring  to  Croton 
bridge,  and  some  strong  post  still  more 
easterly,covering  the  other  passes  through 
the  Highlands,  may  not  be  more  advisa 
ble  than  to  run  the  hazard  of  an  attack 
with  unequal  numbers." 

The  troops  under  Lee  now  numbered 
about  eight  thousand  men.  Among  these 
there  were,  however,  over  four  thousand 
militia  from  Massachusetts  and  Connecti 
cut,  whose  term  of  service  was  about  ex 
piring.  General  Lee  strove  to  induce 
them  to  remain,  and  made  one  of  his  usu 
al  stirring  appeals  to  their  patriotism,  re 
minding  them  of  the  sacred  cause  in  which 
they  were  engaged.  His  eloquence,  how 
ever,  proved  of  no  avail,  and  the  home 
sick  militiamen  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  remain  even  a  single  day  beyond  their 
term.  The  governors  of  Connecticut  and 
Massachusetts  were,  nevertheless,  doing 
their  best  to  fill  their  places  by  new  lev 
ies  of  militia. 

Washington,  after  his  arrival  at  Peeks- 
kill,  passed  a  day  in  inspecting  the  posts 
and  forts  in  the  Highlands.  He  then,  by 


Nov.  13. 


a  circuitous  march  of  about  sixty  miles 
(which  he  was  obliged  to  take  in  conse 
quence  of  the  British  ships  which  opposed 
the  passage  at  the  lower  ferries  of  the 
Hudson),  repaired  with  five  thousand  men 
to  Hackensack,  in  New  Jersey,  where  he 
formed  an  encampment.  Fort 
Lee,  on  the  river,  where  Greene 
commanded,  was  in  front  of  him,  and  this 
was  his  daily  post  of  observation.  The 
movements  and  intentions  of  the  enemy 
were  still  perplexing.  Sir  William  Howe 
had  moved  his  main  force  from  Dobbs's 
ferry  in  the  direction  of  Kingsbridge ; 
"  and  it  seems,"  says  Washington,  "  to  be 
generally  believed  on  all  hands  that  the 
investing  of  Fort  Washington  is  one  ob 
ject  they  have  in  view  ;  but  that  can  em 
ploy  but  a  small  part  of  their  force."  He 
thought  that  a  southern  expedition  was 
in  tended,  which  opinion  seemed  to  be  con 
firmed  by  the  fact  that  many  transports 
were  "  wooding  and  watering." 

Fort  Washington  was,  however,  at  this 
moment,  the  great  object  of  all  the  ene 
my's  preparations.  On  the  night  of  the 
14th  of  November,  thirty  flat-boats  had 
been  sent  up  from  the  British  fleet  in  the 
bay  of  New  York,  and,  having  passed  up 
the  Hudson  between  the  forts  unobserved 
—  in  spite  of  all  the  watchfulness  of  the 
American  guards — got  safely  into  Spuy- 
ten-Devil  creek,  and  thence  into  the  Har 
lem  river.  At  this  point  the  boats  were 
kept  in  readiness  for  the  use  of  General 
Howe's  army,  now  brought  down  and  en 
camped  on  Fordham  heights,  preparatory 
to  the  investment  of  Fort  Washington. 
By  means  of  this  water-conveyance,  the 
British  commander  was  enabled  to  throw 


REVOLUTION  ATCY.] 


INVESTMENT  OF  FORT  WASHINGTON. 


387 


across  the  Harlem  river  at  any  point  on 
New- York  island,  above  or  below,  those 
troops  which  might  be  required  to  aid 
his  operations. 

Mount  Washington,  which  was  destined 
to  be  the  scene  of  the  coming  conflict, 
presents  a  good  site  for  a  defensive  work. 
The  hill,  with  a  height  of  some  six  hun 
dred  feet  above  the  Hudson,  is  protected 
on  all  sides,  except  toward  the  south,  by 
steep  acclivities.  Upon  the  summit  is  a 
stretch  of  table-land,  of  several  acres  in 
extent,  which  always  affords  some  point 
for  the  command  of  each  approach.  Here 
was  built  the  fort,  which  had  been  hastily 
thrown  up  by  Colonel  Rufus  Putnam  soon 
after  the  march  of  Washington's  army 
from  Boston  to  New  York.  The  design 
was,  to  give  a  pentagonal  form  to  the  cit 
adel,  and  surround  it  with  five  bastions. 
However,  from  want  of  engineering  skill, 
of  time,  or  of  care,  the  works  remained 
incomplete,  as  may  be  gathered  from  this 
description  by  one  who  was  doing  duty 
in  its  defence  :  "  There  were  no  barracks, 
or  casemates,  or  fuel,  or  water,  within  the 
body  of  the  place.  It  was  an  open,  earth 
en  construction,  with  ground  at  a  short 
distance  on  the  back  of  it  equally  high, 
if  not  higher ;  without  a  ditch  of  any  con 
sequence,  if  there  was  a  ditch  at  all ;  no 
outworks  (an  incipient  one  on  the  north, 
not  deserving  the  appellation),  or  any  of 
those  exterior,  multiplied  obstacles  and 
defences,  that  could  entitle  it  to  the  name 
of  a  fortress,  in  any  degree  capable  of 
sustaining  a  siege.  It  required  no  paral 
lels  to  approach  it:  the  citadel  was  at  once 
within  reach  of  the  assailants."* 

*  Graydon. 


It  was  garrisoned  at  first  by  only  about 
two  thousand  men,  to  which  were  added, 
however,  some  troops  from  the  flying 
camp,  sent  over  by  General  Greene  from 
Fort  Lee,  making  the  whole  number  near 
ly  three  thousand,  under  the  several  com 
mands  of  Colonels  Magaw,  Cadwallader, 
Baxter,  and  Rawlings.  Magaw,  as  the 
senior  of  these  officers,  was  command er- 
in-chief  of  the  post.  He  was  a  spirited 
fellow,  and  spoke  confidently  of  his  abil 
ity  to  hold  the  place.  The  original  pur 
pose  of  the  fort  (which  was,  to  command 
the  entrance  of  the  Hudson)  had  been  so 
often  defeated  by  the  enemy's  ships  and 
boats  defiantly  passing  it,  that  its  defence 
was  by  many  considered  unnecessary  and 
impolitic.  The  matter,  however,  had  been 
left  to  the  discretion  of  General  Greene, 
and  he  encouraged  Magaw  in  bravely  re 
sisting  to  the  last. 

The  enemy  now  made  such  a  disposi 
tion  of  their  troops,  that  they  were  ena 
bled  to  environ  the  whole  fortress.  Gen 
eral  Kivyphausen  was  near  Kingsbiidge, 
at  the  north,  with  five  hundred  Hessians 
and  Waldeckers,in  two  divisions,  the  right 
one  of  which  was  commanded  by  Colonel 
Rahl.  To  the  east  was  General  Mathew, 
at  the  head  of  the  first  and  second  battal 
ions  of  guards,  supported  by  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  with  the  thirty-third  regiment  and 
a  body  of  British  grenadiers.  These  were 
on  the  east  side  of  the  Harlem  river,  which 
they  were  ready  to  cross,  under  the  cover 
of  two  redoubts  raised  there  for  that  pur 
pose.  Lord  Percy  had  been  ordered  down 
to  the  neighborhood  of  Harlem  plains, 
whence  he  was  prepared  with  a  large 
force  of  English  and  Hessian  troops  to 


388 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Nov.  15, 


attack  the  American  position  from  the 
south.  A  third  division,  composed  prin 
cipally  of  the  forty-second  regiment,  was 
under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Stirling,  who 
was  directed  to  be  in  readiness  to  embark 
on  board  the  flat-boats,  and  drop  down 
the  Harlem,  with  the  view  of  making  a 
feint  of  landing,  or  such  an  attack  as  cir 
cumstances  would  justify.  Gen 
eral  Howe,  being  thus  prepared, 
summoned  Magaw  to  surrender,  threat 
ening  extremities  in  case  of  refusal.  To 
this  summons  Magaw  unhesitatingly  an 
swered : — 

"  SIR  :  If  I  rightly  understand  the  pur 
port  of  your  message  from  General  Howe, 
communicated  to  Colonel  Swoope,  this 
post  is  to  be  immediately  surrendered,  or 
put  to  the  sword.  I  think  it  rather  a 
mistake  than  a  settled  purpose  of  General 
Howe,  to  act  a  part  so  unworthy  of  him 
self  and  the  British  nation.  But  give  me 
leave  to  assure  his  excellency  that,  actu 
ated  by  the  most  glorious  cause  that  man 
kind  ever  fought  in,  I  am  determined  to 
defend  this  post  to  the  very  last  extrem- 

ity. 

"ROBERT  MAGAW." 

A  copy  of  this  spirited  answer  of  Ma 
gaw  was  handed  to  General  Greene,  who 
was  then  at  Fort  Washington,  and  by  him 
despatched  immediately  to  the  command- 
er-in-chief  at  Hackensack.  Washington 
at  once  hurried  to  Fort  Lee,  and,  taking 
a  boat,  began  to  push  across  the  river. 
He  had  got  partly  over,  when  he  was  met 
by  Generals  Putnam  and  Greene,  on  their 
return  from  Fort  Washington.  They  in 
formed  him  that  the  troops  were  in  high 


Nov.  16. 


spirits,  and  would  make  a  good  defence. 
Washington,  after  this  satisfactory  intel 
ligence,  and  it  being  late  at  night,  was 
induced  to  return. 

Magaw  now  prepared  to  defend  his  po 
sition.  Early  next  morning,  he 
posted  his  troops,  partly  in  the 
lines  which  had  been  thrown  up  by  the 
army  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mount  Wash- 
ington.on  evacuating  New  York,  and  part 
ly  on  a  commanding  hill  lying  toward  the 
north.  Magaw  seemed  conscious  of  the 
inadequacy  of  the  defences  of  the  fort, 
and  therefore  preferred,  instead  of  coop 
ing  up  his  troops  where  they  would  be 
ill  able  to  resist  an  assault,  to  extend  them 
in  such  a  way  as  to  command,  if  possible, 
the  approaches  to  Mount  Washington, 
upon  the  summit  of  which  stood  the  ill- 
conditioned  fortress.  The  lines  thus  oc 
cupied  by  the  American  troops  embraced 
a  circuit  of  some  four  or  five  miles ;  and 
when  we  recollect  that  the  whole  num 
ber  amounted  to  only  about  three  thou 
sand  men,  it  may  be  easily  conceived  that 
there  could  be  at  no  single  point  any 
great  concentration  of  strength.  An  at 
tacking  force  of  nearly  eight  thousand 
men  at  its  command  could  therefore  out 
number  greatly  its  opponents  in  every 
direction. 

On  a  hill  to  the  northward  of  the  fort 
there  was  a  redoubt,  called  Fort  George. 
Here  Colonel  Rawlings  was  posted,  with 
most  of  his  troops,  principally  Maryland 
riflemen.  He  held,  however,  with  a  few 
men,  an  outpost  called  Cock-hill  fort,  sit 
uated  beyond,  just  at  the  entrance  of 
Spuyten-Devil  creek  ;  and  another,  called 
Fort  Tryon,  in  the  same  direction,  but 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  DEFENCE. 


389 


nearer  Mount  Washington.  Colonel  Raw- 
lings  presented  a  front  to  oppose  Knyp- 
hausen  and  his  Hessians,  stationed  before 
him  on  the  plain  reaching  to  Kingsbridge. 

On  the  wooded  and  hilly  banks  of  the 
Harlem  river,  eastward  of  the  fort,  was 
Colonel  Baxter,  with  a  body,  chiefly  of 
militia,  detached  from  the  flying  camp, 
and  sent  by  Greene  at  the  last  moment, 
from  New  Jersey.  These  troops  were  not 
very  efficient,  and  so  few  in  numbers  in 
proportion  to  the  long  extent  of  ground 
to  be  guarded,  that  for  a  distance  of  a 
mile  or  more  the  heights  on  the  east, 
along  the  Harlem  river,  wrere  in  reality 
without  defence.  Baxter  was  to  watch 
the  movements  of  the  enemy  on  the  op 
posite  side  of  the  river,  where  General 
Mathew  was  posted,  in  readiness  to  cross 
and  attempt  to  make  a  landing  in  front 
of  the  fort,  under  cover  of  the  redoubts 
which  had  been  raised  by  the  British  for 
that  purpose. 

Colonel  Lambert  Cadwallader,  of  Phil 
adelphia,  with  about  eight  hundred  men, 
chiefly  the  Pennsylvania  regiment  of  Ma- 
gaw,  was  posted  about  two  and  a  half 
miles  to  the  southward  of  the  fort,  to  de 
fend  the  American  works  in  that  quarter. 
These  were  composed  of  two  lines,  each 
about  a  mile  in  length,  nearly  parallel, 
which  extended  from  near  the  Harlem 
river,  across  the  island,  to  the  Hudson. 
The  first  line,  toward  New  York,  was  "  a 


slight  intrenchment,  with  a  few  weak  bas 
tions,  without  platforms  for  cannon,  and 
furnished  with  no  other  ordnance  than  a 
few  old  iron  pieces  of  small  calibre,  scarce 
ly  fit  for  use,  and  an  iron  six-pounder 
mounted  on  trucks.  The  second  and  in 
ner  line  was  stronger,  both  from  the  na 
ture  of  the  ground,  which  afforded  small 
eminences  for  bastions  closed  in  the  rear, 
and  from  having  the  intervals  between 
the  bastions  strongly  picketed.  The  first 
line  seemed  calculated  rather  for  retard 
ing  the  approach  of  the  enemy,  than  as 
a  seriously  defensive  work  ;  it  being  noth 
ing  more  (with  the  exception  of  the  bas 
tions)  than  a  shallow  ditch,  with  the  earth 
thrown  outward.  The  second  line  was 
formed  at  a  proper  distance  from  the  first, 
so  as  to  protect  the  latter  by  musketry 
as  well  as  cannon,  and  to  drive  out  the 
enemy,  should  he  get  possession  of  it: 
but  this  second  line,  on  the  day  of  the 
attack  of  Fort  Washington,  was  from  ne 
cessity  wholly  without  defence,  either  of 
troops  or  artillery  of  any  description."* 
Earl  Percy,  with  his  fifteen  hundred  Brit 
ish  and  Hessians,  threatened  the  fort  on 
the  south.  Colonel  Cadwallader  and  his 
eight  hundred  men  were  posted  to  defend 
the  outer  lines,  and  if  possible  to  prevent 
his  lordship's  approach  in  that  direction. 
Colonel  Magaw  himself  remained  within 
the  fcrt. 

*  Gray don. 


390 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Fort  Washington. — The  Attack  of  the  Enemy. — The  Separate  Divisions. — Rahl  with  the  Right  of  the  Hessians. — Knyp- 
hausen  with  the  Left. — Their  Reception  by  the  Provincials. — Mathew  and  the  British  Guards. — Their  Success. — Death 
of  Baxter. — Flight  of  his  Men. — Earl  Percy  and  his  Force. — Spirited  Resistance  of  Cadwallader. — Dropping  down  the 
Harlem  River. — The  "Enemy  secure  a  Landing. — The  Marylanders  forced  to  retire. — The  Hard  Struggle. — Capture  of 
Forts  George,  Cock-Hill,  and  Tryon. — Concentration  of  the  Hessians. — Successful  Retreat  of  Cadwallader. — Wash 
ington  watching  the  Movement. — His  Company. — His  Tenderness. — The  Americans  driven  within  the  Fort,  and  sum 
moned  to  surrender. — Washington  sends  a  Messenger,  to  advise  holding  out. — Too  late. — Surrender  of  Fort  Washing 
ton. — Lee's  Emotions. — "  A  Cursed  Affair." — Washington's  Grief. — Greene  consoles  Himself. — The  Policy  of  holding 
Fort  Washington  considered. — The  Loss. — Fort  Lee  abandoned  to  the  Enemy. — The  Retreat  of  Washington  in  New 
Jersey. — Critical  State  of  Affairs. — A  Strong  Call  for  Reinforcements. — General  Discouragement. 


1776, 


AT  noon,  on  the  16th  of  Novem 
ber,  the  enemy,  under  the  cover  of 
a  powerful  artillery,  began  their  attack 
upon  Fort  Washington  simultaneously 
from  all  points.  From  the  north,  Knyp- 
hausen  and  Rahl  approached  with  their 
separate  divisions  of  Hessians.  On  the 
east,  the  British  redoubts  from  the  oppo 
site  side  of  the  Harlem  river  began  a 
heavy  cannonade,  under  cover  of  which 
General  Mathew  embarked  his  "British 
Guards,"  and  pushed  across  the  stream. 
On  the  south,  Earl  Percy  marched  with 
his  force  from  the  plains  of  Harlem,  and 
approached  the  American  lines ;  while 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Stirling  began  to  float 
down  the  Harlem  river  with  another  di 
vision  of  British  troops. 

Colonel  Rahl,  who  commanded  the  right 
of  the  Hessians,  pushed  on  for  the  Cock- 
hill  fort,  and  began  to  clamber  up  the 
woody  height,  in  the  face  of  a  sharp  fire 
from  the  small  party  which  defended  that 
post.  General  Knyphausen  at  the  same 
moment  moved  with  his  left  against  Fort 
George.  He  soon  got  entangled  in  a 
woody  defile,  which  led  to  the  rugged 


heights  he  was  attempting  to  ascend,  and 
was  thus  exposed  to  a  murderous  fire 
from  Colonel  Rawlings's  riflemen,  as  well 
as  from  the  guns  of  the  redoubt  above. 

Mathew,  with  his  British  guards,  under 
the  cover  of  a  fire  from  the  redoubts,  soon 
crossed  the  river,  in  front  and  to  the  east 
of  the  fort.  Colonel  Baxter,  posted  with 
his  militiamen  on  the  heights,  was  only 
able  to  offer  a  short  and  ineffectual  re 
sistance  to  the  landing  of  the  enemy. 
Baxter,  while  cheering  on  his  men,  was 
killed  by  a  British  officer ;  and  the  Amer 
ican  troops,  overpowered  by  numbers, 
fled  to  the  fort :  while  the  British,  taking 
a  redoubt  and  two  hundred  prisoners  on 
their  way,  inclined  toward  the  left,  and 
began  to  skirt  the  southern  border  of 
Mount  Washington,  apparently  with  the 
view  of  cutting  off  Colonel  Cadwallader's 
force  stationed  within  the  outer  line  be 
low. 

In  the  meantime,  Earl  Percy,  having 
marched  across  the  plains  of  Harlem,  ap 
proached  the  American  lines  from  the 
south,  under  the  cover  of  a  wood,  where 
he  began  to  form  his  troops  for  an  assault, 


REVOLUTIONARY.!         FORTS  GEORGE,  COCK-HILL,  AND  TRYON,  TAKEN. 


391 


and  at  the  same  time  to  fire  with  his  ar 
tillery  upon  the  American  breastworks. 
Cadwallader's  Pennsylvanians  kept  firm 
ly  to  their  ground,  and  spiritedly  resisted 
the  enemy  as  they  approached.  Cadwal 
lader,  now  learning  that  the  British  were 
dropping  down  the  Harlem  river  in  large 
force,  apparently  with  the  view  of  getting 
between  him  and  the  fort,  detached  a  hun 
dred  and  fifty  men,  with  an  eighteen- 
pounder,  to  dispute  their  landing.  The 
detachment  arrived  in  time  to  open  a  fire 
upon  the  assailants  before  they  reached 
the  shore,  and  it  was  well  directed  and 
deadly.  Nevertheless,  the  superiority  of 
the  enemy's  strength  in  men  and  artillery 
enabled  them  to  force  a  landing,  and,  by 
extending  themselves,  to  gain  the  heights 
upon  the  bank  of  the  river.  Here  there 
was  a  sharp  contest ;  but,  with  the  odds 
of  eight  hundred  British  against  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  Americans,  the  latter  were 
so  outnumbered,  that  they  were  obliged 
to  retreat  toward  the  fort.  The  British 
troops  which  had  thus  made  good  their 
landing  were  those  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Stirling,  and  they  now  marched 
unopposed  toward  the  southern  acclivity 
of  Mount  Washington,  and,  together  with 
Mathew's  division,  were  endeavoring  to 
interpose  themselves  between  Cadwalla- 
der  and  the  fort. 

The  Marylanders,  under  Rawlings,  at 
the  north,  had  made  a  brave  defence,  but 
they  were  finally  obliged  to  retire  to  the 
fort.  Knyphausen,  however,  did  not  win 
the  position  until  after  a  long  and  hard 
struggle.  The  American  riflemen  contin 
ued  their  fire  until  their  arms  became  so 
fouled  from  repeated  use  as  to  be  of  no 


longer  service,  and  only  gave  way  when 
overpowered  by  the  numbers  of  the  ene 
my.  Knyphausen  having  carried  Fort 
George,  and  Rahl  the  outposts  of  Cock- 
hill  and  Fort  Tryon,  the  two  combined 
their  forces  and  marched  up  Mount  Wash 
ington  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
fortress,  and  took  post  behind  a  large 
stone-house. 

Cadwallader,  finding  himself  about  to 
be  caught  between  two  fires,  called  off 
his  troops  from  the  right  and  left  of  the 
line,  and  ordered  a  retreat.  He  supposed 
that  Mathew  and  Stirling  would  take  pos 
session  of  the  second  and  inner  line  ;  but. 
as  they  suspected  that  the  enclosed  bas 
tions  concealed  a  number  of  men,  they 
seemed  to  hesitate.  Cadwallader  took 
advantage  of  this  pause,  and  pushed  rap 
idly  for  the  fort,  in  a  direction  toward  the 
North  river.  He  made  good  his  retreat, 
and,  though  attacked  upon  his  flank  by 
Stirling,  and  pursued  in  the  rear  by  Lord 
Percy,  succeeded  in  gaining  the  fort  with 
but  a  small  loss. 

Washington,  with  Greene,  Putnam,  and 
Thomas  Paine,  watched  from  Fort  Lee 
every  movement  during  this  engagement 
with  anxious  interest ;  and  when  he  saw 
the  Hessians  in  pursuit  of  the  brave  troops 
of  Rawlings,  bayoneting  them  even  when 
asking  for  quarter,  "he  cried  with  the 
tenderness  of  a  child,  and  exclaimed  at 
the  barbarity  that  was  practised." 

When  the  American  troops  had  been 
driven  into  the  fort,  and  the  enemy  had 
thronged  up  the  hill  from  all  sides  within 
a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  fortress,  Colo 
nel  Rahl,  who  was  first  on  the  ground 
with  his  column,  sent  in  a  summons  to 


892 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Magaw  to  surrender.  Washington,  see 
ing  from  Fort  Lee  a  flag  of  truce  going 
into  the  fortress,  understood  the  object, 
and  immediately  wrote  a  note  to  Colonel 
Magaw,  directing  him  to  hold  out,  and  he 
would  endeavor  in  the  evening  to  bring 
off  the  garrison.  A  Captain  Gooch  brave 
ly  volunteered  to  be  the  bearer  of  the 
message,  and,  hurrying  down  to  the  river, 
jumped  into  a  small  boat,  pushed  across, 
landed  on  the  shore,  ran  up  to  the  fort, 
delivered  Washington's  letter,  and  hur 
ried  back,  dodging  the  Hessian  guards  by 
the  way,  who  attempted  to  bayonet  him 
as  he  passed.  He  reached  the  shore,  and, 
leaping  into  his  boat,  returned  in  safety 
to  Fort  Lee. 

The  letter  was,  however,  too  late  :  Ma 
gaw  had  already  entered  too  far  into  a 
treaty  to  retract,  and  now  delivered  up 
the  fort,  and  surrendered  the  garrison  as 
prisoners-of-war,  as  he  could  "  obtain  no 
other  terms ;"  but  the  men  were  allowed 
to  keep  possession  of  their  baggage,  and 
the  officers  of  their  swords.  The  arms, 
ammunition,  and  stores,  however, were  all 
given  up. 

"When  General  Lee,"  says  Gordon, 
"  read  the  letter,  sent  by  express,  giving 
an  account  of  Fort  Washington  being  ta 
ken,  resentment  and  vexation  led  him, 
unfeeling  as  he  was  in  common,  to  weep 
plentifully."  He  wrote  to  Washington  : 
"  Oh,  general,  why  would  you  be  over- 
persuaded  by  men  of  inferior  judgment 
to  your  own  ?  It  was  a  cursed  affair !" 

Washington  himself  grieved  at  it  no 
less  than  Lee.  He  writes  to  his  brother 
Augustine  :  "  This  is  a  most  unfortunate 
affair,  and  has  given  me  great  mortifica 


tion  ;  as  we  have  lost  not  only  two  thou 
sand  men  that  were  there,  but  a  good 
deal  of  artillery,  and  some  of  the  best 
arms  we  had.  And  what  adds  to  my  mor 
tification  is,  that  this  post,  after  the  last 
ships  went  past  it,  was  held  contrary  to 
my  wishes  and  opinions,  as  I  conceived 
it  to  be  a  hazardous  one ;  but  it  having 
been  determined  on  by  a  full  council  of 
general  officers,  and  a  resolution  of  Con 
gress  having  been  received  strongly  ex 
pressive  of  their  desire  that  the  channel 
of  the  river,  which  we  had  been  laboring 
to  stop  for  a  long  time  at  that  place, 
might  be  obstructed  if  possible,  and  know 
ing  that  this  could  not  be  done  unless 
there  were  batteries  to  protect  the  ob 
struction,  I  did  not  care  to  give  an  abso 
lute  order  for  withdrawing  the  garrison, 
till  I  could  get  round  and  see  the  situa 
tion  of  things,  and  then  it  became  too 
late,  as  the  fort  was  invested.  Upon  the 
passing  of  the  last  ships,  I  had  given  it 
as  my  opinion  to  General  Greene,  under 
whose  care  it  was,  that  it  would  be  best 
to  evacuate  the  place ;  but  as  the  order 
was  discretionary, and  liis  opinion  differed 
from  mine,  it  unhappily  was  delayed  too 
long,  to  my  great  grief;  as  I  think  Gener 
al  Howe,  considering  his  army  and  ours, 
would  have  have  had  a  poor  tale  to  tell 
without  it,  and  would  have  found  it  diffi 
cult,  unless  some  southern  expedition  may 
prove  successful,  to  reconcile  the  people 
of  England  to  the  conquest  of  a  few  piti 
ful  islands,  none  of  which  were  defensible, 
considering  the  great  number  of  their 
ships,  and  the  power  they  have  by  sea  to 
surround  and  render  them  unapproach 
able." 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  FALL  OF  FOET  WASHINGTON. 


393 


The  whole  letter  is  pervaded  by  a  tone 
of  melancholy.  Washington,  after  mourn 
ing  over  the  difficulties  in  levying  proper 
troops,  says  that  he  is  almost  compelled 
"  to  bid  adieu  to  every  hope  of  getting 
an  army  from  which  any  services  are  to 
be  expected ;  the  different  states,  without 
regard  to  the  qualifications  of  an  officer, 
quarrelling  about  the  appointments,  and 
nominating  such  as  are  not  fit  to  be  shoe 
blacks,  from  the  local  attachments  of  this 
or  that  member  of  assembly.  I  am  wea 
ried  almost  to  death  with  the  retrograde 
motion  of  things,  and  I  solemnly  protest," 
he  declares,  "  that  a  pecuniary  reward  of 
twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year  wTould 
not  induce  me  to  undergo  what  I  do ; 
and  after  all,  perhaps,  to  lose  my  charac 
ter,  as  it  is  impossible,  under  such  a  va 
riety  of  distressing  circumstances,  to  con 
duct  matters  agreeably  to  public  expec 
tation  or  even  to  the  expectation  of  those 
who  employ  me,  as  they  will  not  make 
proper  allowance  for  the  difficulties  their 
own  errors  have  occasioned." 

General  Greene  consoled  himself,  for 
the  loss  of  his  pet  fortress,  by  the  reflec 
tion  that  the  enemy  had  "  suffered  great 
ly  on  the  north  side  of  Fort  Washington," 
where  Colonel  Rawlings's  regiment  was 
posted,  and  had  "  behaved  with  great  spir 
it."  He  moreover  persisted  that  the  fort 
would  not  have  been  given  up  could  Colo 
nel  Magaw  have  got  the  men  to  man  the 
lines.  He  continued  to  declare  that  Fort 
Washington  was  tenable,  and,  when  re 
proached  for  having  attempted  to  hold 
it,  exclaimed,  "  I  would  to  God  we  had 
had  ten  thousand  men  there  I"*  The 

*  Memoirs  of  our  Own  Times,  by  General  J.  Wilkinson. 
50 


holding  of  Fort  Washington,  however, 
was  almost  universally  considered  an  er 
ror  on  the  part  of  Greene ;  but  we  shall 
find  that  he  amply  redeemed  it  by  his 
glorious  successes  in  the  future. 

When  the  British  hoisted  their  flag  at 
the  fort,  its  name  was  changed  to  Knyp- 
hausen,  and  that  general  was  left  in  com 
mand  of  it,  with  a  garrison  of  his  Hessians. 
By  the  surrender,  two  thousand  eight 
hundred  Americans,  according  to  Sir  Wil 
liam  Howe's  return,  became  his  prisoners ; 
and  these  were  marched,  the  very  mid 
night  after  their  capture,  to  the  city  of 
New  York.  It  has  been  estimated  that 
the  enemy  lost,  in  English  and  Hessians, 
over  a  thousand  men.  This  is  probably 
an  exaggeration.*  The  British  acknowl 
edged  a  loss  of  only  eight  hundred. 

The  next  object  of  the  enemy,  after 
the  capture  of  Fort  Washington,  was  Fort 
Lee,  on  the  Jersey  shore  opposite.  Corn- 

wallis,  with  six  thousand  troops, 

'     .  .  Nov.  20. 

crossed  the  Hudson  from  the  en 
campment  near  Yonkers,  and  landed  on 
the  Jersey  shore  at  a  place  called  Closter, 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  English 
Neighborhood.  The  flat-boats  which  had 
been  brought  up  from  the  bay  of  New 
York,  and  stationed  in  Spuyten-Devil 
creek,  afforded  him  the  means  of  trans 
port,  and  he  was  thus  enabled  to  carry 
his  men  rapidly  across  the  river,  while 
the  ships-of-war  protected  their  passage. 
Cornwallis,  on  debarking,  immediately 
formed  his  men,  and  marched  along  the 
Jersey  shore  toward  the  object  of  attack. 

*  Gordon  says,  "  It  is  imagined  on  good  grounds  that  the 
royal  army  lost  in  the  attack  full  twelve  hundred  men,  in 
killed  and  wounded." 


394 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


As  Fort  Lee  was  not  tenable,  and  of 
no  possible  advantage  after  the  loss  of 
Fort  Washington,  it  had  been  determined 
to  evacuate  it.  The  ammunition  and  some 
of  the  stores  had  already  been  removed, 
when  intelligence  was  brought  early  in 
the  morning,  while  General  Greene  was 
in  bed,  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  He 
immediately  ordered  the  garrison  out  and 
marched  them  to  join  the  commander-in- 
chief  at  Hackensack.  The  British  were 
on  the  banks  of  the  North  river,  only  six 
miles  above  the  fort;  and  their  evident 
intention  was,  to  draw  a  line  from  that 
point  to  the  bridge  across  the  Hacken 
sack,  and  thus  hem  in  Washington's  force 
between  the  two  rivers.  The  American 
commander,  however,  was  too  quick  for 
his  lordship,  and  gained  the  bridge  be 
fore  him :  he  thus  secured  a  retreat  for 
all  his  men,  but  was  forced  to  leave  be 
hind  him  some  hundred  barrels  of  flour, 
most  of  the  cannon,  and  "  a  considerable 
parcel  of  tents  and  baggage."  Finding 
himself  still  enclosed  between  two  rivers, 
the  Hackensack  and  the  Passaic,  and  in 
the  same  danger  of  being  pent  up  as  be 
fore,  should  the  enemy  continue  to  ad 
vance,  Washington  was  obliged  to  cross 
the  Passaic  and  retreat  to  Newark.  Even 
here  he  did  not  propose  to  make  a  stand. 
The  level  and  open  nature  of  the  coun 
try  forbade  it ;  and  his  force,  which  was 
now  only  about  thirty-five  hundred  men, 
did  not  admit  of  the  possibility  of  a  pitched 
battle  with  the  army  of  Cornwallis.  He 
encamped  at  Newark,  as  the  British  did 
not  seem  in  a  hurry  to  molest  him.  Wash 
ington,  however,  was  prepared  at  a  mo 
ment's  notice  to  retreat  to  Brunswick,  in 


order  to  form  a  junction  with  the  troops 
at  that  place  under  the  command  of  Lord 
Stirling. 

Washington  was  fully  conscious  of  his 
danger.  Flying,  with  a  dispirited  rem 
nant  of  troops  (amounting  in  all  to  little 
more  than  three  thousand  men),  before 
the  triumphant  army  of  the  enemy,  he 
might  well  say,  "  The  situation  of  our  af 
fairs  is  truly  critical,  and  such  as  requires 
uncommon  exertions  on  our  part."  In 
order  that  Congress  might  be  fully  ap 
prized  of  the  weakness  of  his  position, 
and  of  the  necessity  of  obtaining  early 
succor,  it  was  determined  by  the  com 
mand  er-in-chief,  with  the  advice  of  all  his 
general  officers,  to  send  General  Mifflin 
to  Philadelphia,  to  the  end  that  he  might 
make  known  personally  the  severe  straits 
in  which  the  American  army  was  placed. 
Washington  used  every  exertion  to  ob 
tain  reinforcements.  He  wrote  to  Liv 
ingston,  governor  of  New  Jersey,  to  give 
all  the  aid  in  his  power,  and  try  to  induce 
that  state  to  do  more  than  it  had  done ; 
for  Washington  found  that,  instead  of 
meeting  with  "many  of  the  militia,"  as 
he  had  expected  on  his  arrival,  there  were 
not  more  than  from  four  to  five  hundred 
at  the  different  posts.  General  Schuyler 
was  also  written  to,  and  directed  to  send 
down  from  the  army  in  the  northern  de 
partment  the  New-Jersey  and  Pennsylva 
nia  troops.  General  Lee  had  been  re 
peatedly  urged  to  come  over  from  his 
encampment  at  Newcastle,  with  the  regi 
ments  under  his  command.  The  flying 
camp,  which  was  on  the  point  of  dissolv 
ing,  Washington  was  anxious  to  retain 
in  service ;  and  in  his  letter  to  Congress 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LEE  URGED  TO  CROSS  THE  HUDSON. 


395 


he  suggests  that  an  "early  and  immediate 
supply  of  money"  should  be  sent  to  pay 
them,  as  it  u  might  have  a  happy  effect." 
With  the  srnallness  and  wretched  con 
dition  of  his  force,  and  the  difficulty  with 
which  his  efforts  to  increase  the  one  and 
improve  the  other  were  opposed,  it  was 
not  surprising  that  Washington  should 
have  almost  despaired  of  bringing  an  ar 
my  into  the  field  capable  of  meeting  the 
enemy.  It  was  under  such  a  feeling  of 
discouragement  in  his  emergency  at  New 
ark  that  he  asked  Colonel  Reed,  "  Should 
we  retreat  to  the  back  parts  of  Pennsyl 


vania,  will  the  Pennsylvanians  support 
us?" — "If  the  lo\ver  counties  are  sub 
dued  and  give  up,  the  back  counties  will 
do  the  same,"  was  the  discouraging  an 
swer.  Washington  then  passed  his  hand 
across  his  throat,  and  said  with  a  manner 
half  serious  and  half  playful :  "  My  neck 
does  not  feel  as  though  it  was  made  for 
a  halter.  We  must  retire  to  Augusta 
county,  in  Virginia.  Numbers  will  be 
obliged  to  repair  to  us  for  safety ;  and  we 
must  try  what  we  can  do  in  carrying  on 
a  predatory  war ;  and,  if  overpowered,  we 
must  cross  the  Alleghany  mountains." 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

General  Lee  urged  by  Washington  to  join  him  in  New  Jersey. — Lee's  Answer. — His  Proposition  to  General  Heath. — Re 
fusal  of  Heath  to  accede. — Lee's  Procrastination  in  obeying  Washington's  Orders. — His  Excuses. — The  Correspond 
ence. — The  Motive  of  Lee's  Conduct. — His  Vanity. — His  Partisans. — Joseph  Reed. — His  Life  and  Character. — His 
Intimacy  with  Washington. — His  Infidelity  to  his  Friend. — Proof  of  the  Fact. — Letter  from  Reed  to  Lee. — Lee's  Con 
duct  accounted  for. — Washington  by  an  Accident  discovers  the  Infidelity  of  Reed. — Lee's  Letter  to  Reed. — A  Rebuke. 
— Severely  polite. — "  Dear  Sir." — Lee  still  recreant. — Complains  of  Heath. — The  Latter  justifies  Himself. — "  Our 
General's"  Account  of  his  Interview  with  Lee. — Lee  crosses  the  Hudson. — Still  disobedient  of  Orders. — More  tender 
of  Horse  than  of  Man. 


1776, 


WASHINGTON,  as  we  have  said,  had 
repeatedly  urged  General  Lee  to  ! 
break  up  his  encampment  at  Newcastle, 
and  come  with  his  troops  to  his  aid  in 
New  Jersey.  After  Lord  Cornwallis  had 
crossed  the  Hudson,  Washington  wrote  to 
Lee  from  Hackensack  :  "  I  am  of  opinion, 
and  the  gentlemen  about  me  con 
cur  in  it,  that  the  public  interest 
requires  your  coming  over  to  this  side  of 
the  Hudson,  with  the  continental  troops, 
leaving  Fellows's  and  Wadsworth's  bri 
gades  to  take  care  of  the  stores  during 


Nov.  21, 


their  short  stay,  at  the  expiration  of  which 
I  suppose  they  will  set  out  for  home. 

"  My  reasons  for  this  measure,  which  I 
think  must  have  weight  with  you,  are, 
that  the  enemy  is  evidently  changing  the 
seat  of  war  to  this  side  of  the  North  riv 
er.  Unless  some  new  event  should  occur, 
therefore,  or  some  more  cogent  reason 
present  itself  to  the  contrary,  I  would 
have  you  move  over  by  the  easiest  and 
best  passage." 

This  was  explicit  as  regards  Washing 
ton's  opinion,  but  it  is  expressed  rather 


396 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Nov.  24, 


as  a  suggestion  than  as  an  order — a  not 
unusual  thing  at  that  time  with  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  when  addressing  Lee,  to 
whose  military  experience  he  was  disposed 
to  defer. 

General  Lee,  in  answer, wrote  to  Wash 
ington,  saying  that  he  had  received  his 
orders,  and  would  "  endeavor  to 
put  them  into  execution;"  but  al 
leged  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  take 
with  him  any  considerable  number  of 
troops,  "  not  so  much  from  a  want  of  zeal 
in  the  men,  as  from  their  wretched  con 
dition  with  respect  to  shoes,  stockings, 
and  blankets, which  the  presentbad  weath 
er  renders  more  intolerable."  In  the  mean 
time  he  had  sent  orders  to  General  Heath, 
who  was  stationed  at  Peekskill,  to  trans 
port  two  thousand  men  across  the  river. 
Heath  refused.  "  That  great  man,"  as  Lee 
sarcastically  writes  in  his  letter  to  Wash 
ington,  "  (as  I  might  have  expected,)  in 
trenched  himself  within  the  letter  of  his 
instruction,  and  refused  to  part  with  a 
single  file,  though  I  undertook  to  replace 
them  with  a  part  of  my  own."  At  the 
conclusion  of  his  letter,  Lee  declares :  "  I 
should  march  this  day  with  Glover's  bri 
gade,  but  have  just  received  intelligence 
that  Eogers's  corps,  a  part  of  the  light- 
horse,  and  another  brigade,  lie  in  so  ex 
posed  a  situation  as  to  present  us  the 
fairest  opportunity  of  carrying  them  off 
If  we  succeed,  it  will  have  a  great  effect, 
and  amply  compensate  for  two  days'  de- 
lay." 

Washington  was  surprised,  on  receiv 
ing  this  letter,  that  Lee  had  not  yet  set 

out,  and  wrote  at  once:  "  My  for- 
]\ov,  27,  J 

mer  letters  were  so  full  and  ex- 


Nov,  30, 


plicit,  as  to  the  necessity  of  your  march 
ing  as  early  as  possible,  that  it  is  unne 
cessary  to  add  more  on  that  head.  I  con 
fess  I  expected  you  would  have  been 
sooner  in  motion." 

"You  complain,"  writes  Lee  in  reply 
to  Washington,  "  of  my  not  being  in  mo 
tion  sooner.  I  do  assure  you 
that  I  have  done  all  in  my  pow 
er,  and  shall  explain  my  difficulties  when 
we  both  have  leisure.  I  did  not  succeed 
with  Rogers,  and  merely  owing  to  the 
timidity  or  caution  of  the  enemy,  who 
contracted  themselves  into  a  compact 
body  very  suddenly.  I  am  in  hopes  I 
shall  be  able  to  render  you  more  service 
than  if  I  had  moved  sooner.  I  think  I 
shall  enter  the  province  of  Jersey  with 
four  thousand  firm  and  willing  troops, 
who  will  make  a  very  important  diver 
sion  ;  had  I  started  sooner,  I  should  have 
only  had  an  inferior  number  of  unwil- 
ling." 

Washington  himself  was  so  sincere  in 
his  friendship  and  so  loyal  to  duty,  that 
he  did  not  suspect  those  about  him  to  be 
capable  of  infidelity  to  either.  He  was, 
therefore,  though  puzzled  by  the  conduct 
of  Lee,  not  disposed  to  attribute  it  to  that 
love  of  self-aggrandizement  which  facts, 
then  unknown  to  Washington,  now  prove 
to  have  been  the  motive.  Lee  had  been 
spoiled  by  the  welcome  he  had  received 
on  his  arrival  at  New  York  after  his  suc 
cess  at  Charleston.  He  was  regarded  by 
the  army  as  a  military  oracle.  Washing 
ton  himself  always  listened  to  his  opin 
ions  with  deference  ;  and  the  officers,  par 
ticularly  the  younger  ones,  while  observ 
ing  this  marked  respect  on  the  part  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


JOSEPH  REED. 


397 


their  commander-in-chief,  warmed  natu 
rally  into  admiration  of  the  military  qual 
ities  of  Lee.  They  were  disposed  to  ai> 
tribute  every  successful  manoeuvre  since 
his  arrival  in  the  camp  to  action  suggest 
ed  by  his  advice.  His  well-known  oppo 
sition  to  General  Greene's  pertinacious 
resolve  to  hold  Fort  Washington,  now 
served  to  increase  his  reputation  as  a  gen 
eral.  From  the  apparently  desperate  con 
dition  in  which  the  disastrous  loss  of  that 
fort  had  left  the  American  army,  there 
were  doubtless  many  who  believed  that 
in  Lee's  military  capacity  was  the  only 
hope  of  extrication. 

Among  those  who  were  the  especial 
admirers  of  Lee  at  this  time,  and  believed 
that  he  was  the  only  military  saviour  of 
the  country  in  its  sad  trial,  was  General 
Reed.  JOSEPH  REED  was  now  thirty  years 
of  age.  Born  in  New  Jersey,  and  edu 
cated  at  Princeton  college,  he  had  com 
menced  the  study  of  law,  and  for  awhile 
was  entered  at  the  Temple  in  London. 
On  his  return  to  his  native  land,  he  early 
sided  with  the  patriots  in  their  struggle 
for  liberty,  and  was  chosen  president  of 
the  first  popular  convention  in  Philadel 
phia.  When  Washington  was  in  that  city 
and  received  his  appointment  as  com 
mander-in-chief,  he  formed  an  acquaint 
ance  with  Reed,  which  soon  warmed  into 
a  sincere  friendship,  and  ripened  into  the 
most  intimate  confidence.  Washington 
appointed  him  his  private  secretary,  and 
took  him  with  him  to  Cambridge,  where 
he  remained  until  nearly  the  close  of  the 
siege  of  Boston,  when  he  was  called  home 
to  Philadelphia,  to  attend  to  some  private 
affairs.  He  was  subsequently  appointed 


adjutant-general  of  the  American  army, 
and  was  now  serving  in  that  capacity  with 
the  forces  in  New  Jersey.  Washington 
had  a  high  regard  for  Reed's  abilities,  and 
frequently  took  counsel  with  him  in  re 
spect  to  the  conduct  of  affairs.  A  still 
stronger  attachment  than  that  which  was 
to  be  traced  to  their  mutual  relations  as 
honest  co-workers  in  behalf  of  the  public 
cause,  sprang  up  between  them.  They 
became  friends ;  and  Washington,  as  his 
letters  show,  unburdened  himself  to  Reed 
with  a  freedom  of  revelation  that  can  not 
be  found  even  in  his  communications  to 
his  own  family. 

The  adjutant-general  may  possibly  nev 
er  have  swerved  in  his  affection  for  Wash 
ington  as  his  private  friend ;  but  he  un 
doubtedly  wavered  in  his  opinion  of  him 
as  a  public  leader.  The  following  letter, 
which  Reed  wrote,  proves  that  at  that 
time  he  thought  Lee,  and  not  Washing 
ton,  was  the  man  for  the  occasion : — 

"  HACKENSACK,  November  21,  1776. 
"DEAR  GENERAL:  The  letter  you  will 
receive  with  this  contains  my  sentiments 
with  respect  to  your  present  station ;  but 
besides  this,  I  have  some  additional  rea 
sons  for  most  earnestly  wishing  to  have 
you  where  the  principal  scene  of  action 
is  laid.  I  do  not  mean  to  flatter  nor 
praise  you  at  the  expense  of  any  other, 
but  I  confess  I  do  think  that  it  is  entire 
ly  owing  to  you  that  this  army  and  the 
liberties  of  America,  so  far  as  they  are 
dependent  on  it,  are  not  totally  cut  off. 
You  have  decision,  a  quality  often  want 
ing  in  minds  otherwise  valuable ;  and  I 
ascribe  to  this  our  escape  from  York  isl 
and,  from  Kingsbridge,  and  the  Plains; 


398 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


and  I  have  no  doubt,  had  you  been  here, 
the  garrison  of  Mount  Washington  would 
now  have  composed  a  part  of  this  army  : 
and,  from  all  these  circumstances,  I  con 
fess  I  ardently  wish  to  see  you  removed 
from  a  place  where  I  think  there  will  be 
little  call  for  your  judgment  and  experi 
ence,  to  the  place  where  they  are  likely 
to  be  so  necessary.  Nor  am  I  singular 
in  my  opinion.  Every  gentleman  of  the 
family,  the  officers  and  soldiers,  generally 
have  a  confidence  :  the  enemy  constantly 
inquire  where  you  are,  and  seem  to  me 
to  be  less  confident  when  you  are  pres 
ent. 

"  Colonel  Cadwallader,  through  a  spe 
cial  indulgence,  on  account  of  some  civili 
ties  shown  by  his  family  to  General  Pres- 
cott,  has  been  liberated  from  New  York 
without  any  parole.  He  informs,  that 
the  enemy  have  a  southern  expedition  in 
view;  that  they  hold  us  very  cheap  in 
consequence  of  the  late  affair  at  Mount 
Washington,  where  both  the  plan  of  de 
fence  and  execution  were  contemptible. 
If  the  real  defence  of  the  lines  was  in 
tended,  the  number  was  too  few ;  if  the 
fort  only,  the  garrison  was  too  numerous 
by  half.  General  Washington's  own  judg 
ment,  seconded  by  representations  from 
us,  would,  I  believe,  have  saved  the  men 
and  their  arms ;  but,  unluckily,  General 
Greene's  judgment  was  contrary.  This 
kept  the  general's  mind  in  a  state  of  sus 
pense  till  the  stroke  was  struck.  0  gen 
eral  !  an  indecisive  mind  is  one  of  the 
greatest  misfortunes  that  can  befall  an 
army  :  how  often  have  I  lamented  it  this 
campaign ! 

"  All  circumstances  considered,  we  are 


in  a  very  awful,  alarming  state  ;  one  that 
requires  the  utmost  wisdom  and  firmness 
of  mind. 

"As  soon  as  the  season  will  admit,  I 
think  yourself  and  some  others  should 
go  to  Congress,  and  form  the  plan  of  the 
new  army,  point  out  their  defects  to  them, 
and,  if  possible,  prevail  on  them  to  bend 
their  whole  attention  to  this  great  object, 
even  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other.  If 
they  will  not  or  can  not  do  this,  I  fear  all 
our  exertions  will  be  vain  in  this  part  of 
the  world.  Foreign  assistance  is  solicit 
ing,  but  we  can  not  expect  they  will  fight 
the  whole  battle. 

"  I  intended  to  have  said  more,  but  the 
express  is  waiting ;  and  I  must  conclude, 
with  my  clear  and  explicit  -opinion  that 
your  presence  is  of  the  last  importance. 

"  I  am,  with  much  affection  and  regard, 
your  very  affectionate,  humble  servant, 
"JOSEPH  REED,  Adjutant- General 

"  MAJOR-GENERAL  LEE, 
"  At  the  White  Plains." 

Such  a  letter,  from  such  a  source — the 
most  intimate  friend  of  Washington — 
was  surely  calculated  to  increase  the  van 
ity  and  stir  the  ambitious  longings  of  a 
man  like  Lee,  among  whose  virtues  no 
one  has  ever  ranked  modesty  and  con 
tentment.  There  were  others  like  Reed, 
not  only  officers,  but  men  high  in  civil 
authority,  who  were  writing  to  Lee  in 
the  same  strain  of  praise  of  his  own  mili 
tary  capacity,  and  in  depreciation  of  that 
of  the  commander-in-chief.  Lee  yielded 
to  this  influence,  and  doubtless  thought 
that  the  star  of  Washington  was  setting, 
and  that  his  was  the  bright  luminary 
which  was  on  its  rise  and  might  shine  in 


REVOLTJTIONARY.J 


LEE'S  CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  REED. 


399 


its  place.  These  aspirations  will  account 
for  Lee's  conduct  in  not  obeying  Wash 
ington's  orders.  He  was  only  too  willing, 
by  withholding  his  aid;  to  allow  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  to  be  sacrificed,  while  he 
himself,  by  acting  independently,  might 
have  a  chance  of  striking  a  blow  against 
the  enemy,  which  would  establish  his  su 
periority  and  secure  him  the  chief  com 
mand. 

Lee,  therefore,  while  excusing  himself 
on  various  pretences  for  not  joining  his 
chief  in  New  Jersey,  was  purposely  de 
laying,  and  trying  to  increase  his  force 
by  obtaining  a  reinforcement  from  Gen 
eral  Heath,  that  he  might  have  an  oppor 
tunity  of  attacking  the  enemy  in  the  rear 
or  the  flank,  while  in  pursuit  of  Washing 
ton's  meager  remnant  of  troops,  and  thus 
gaining  a  triumph  which  would  give  such 
an  eclat  to  his  military  fame  as  could  not 
fail  to  make  him  as  prominent  as  his  vault 
ing  ambition  aspired  to  be. 

Washington  hitherto  had  been  appa 
rently  unsuspicious  of  Lee's  true  motives 
in  continuing  to  delay,  although  repeat 
edly  urged  to  hasten  to  form  a  junction 
with  him  in  New  Jersey.  The  enemy 
continued  to  advance  and  Washington  to 
retreat.  The  American  force  was  infi 
nitely  inferior  in  numbers,  and  such  as 
could  not  "give  or  promise  the  least  suc 
cessful  opposition."  It  was  greatly  re 
duced  by  the  departure  of  the  Maryland 
flying  camp,  and  by  sundry  other  causes. 
Washington  had  now  retreated 
as  far  as  Brunswick,  from  which 
place  he  writes  to  Lee,  "  I  must  entreat 
you  to  hasten  your  march  as  much  as 
possible,  or  your  arrival  may  be  too  late 


Dec.  1. 


to  answer  any  valuable  service."  When 
Washington  wrote  this,  which  has  a  more 
peremptory  character  than  his  previous 
communications,  he  had  accidentally  dis 
covered  a  correspondence  which  must 
have  greatly  weakened  his  confidence  in 
Lee,  as  it  certainly  did  in  one  in  whom 
his  orginal  faith  was  much  stronger. 

We  have  read  Reed's  letter  to  General 
Lee.  Washington  never  did,  but  he  saw 
Lee's  answer,  and  in  this  way :  Reed  was 
absent,  and  in  the  meantime  a  letter  came 
to  his  address  in  the  camp,  which  Wash 
ington  opened  and  read.  Here  it  is: — 
"  CAMP,  24  November,  1776. 

"  MY  DEAR  REED  :  I  received  your  most 
obliging,  flattering  letter.  I  lament,  with 
you,  that  fatal  indecision  of  mind,  which, 
in  war,  is  a  much  greater  disqualification 
than  stupidity  or  even  want  of  personal 
courage.  Accident  may  pat  a  decisive 
blunderer  in  the  right,  but  eternal  defeat 
and  miscarriage  must  attend  the  man  of 
the  best  parts,  if  cursed  with  indecision. 

"  The  general  commands  in  so  pressing 
a  manner  as  almost  to  amount  to  an  or 
der,  to  bring  over  the  continental  troops 
under  my  command ;  which  recommenda 
tion,  or  order,  throws  me  into  the  great 
est  dilemma,  from  several  considerations. 
Part  of  the  troops  are  so  ill  furnished  with 
shoes  and  stockings,  blankets,  &c.,  that 
they  must  inevitably  perish  in  this  wretch 
ed  weather.  Part  of  them  are  to  be  dis 
missed  on  Saturday  next,  and  this  part  is 
the  best  accoutred  for  service. 

"  What  shelter  we  are  to  find  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  is  a  serious  consid 
eration  ;  but  these  considerations  should 
not  sway  me.  My  reason  for  not  having 


400 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


marched  already  is,  that  we  have  just  re 
ceived  intelligence  that  Rogers's  corps, 
the  light-horse,  part  of  the  Highlanders, 
and  another  brigade,  lie  in  so  exposed  a 
situation  as  to  give  the  fairest  opportuni 
ty  of  being  carried  off  I  should  have  at 
tempted  it  last  night,  but  the  rain  was 
too  violent ;  and  when  our  pieces  are  wet, 
you  know  our  troops  are  hors  du  combat. 
This  night  I  hope  will  be  better.  If  we 
succeed,  we  shall  be  well  compensated 
for  the  delay.  We  shall  likewise  be  able 
in  our  return  to  clear  the  country  of  all 
the  articles  wanted  by  the  enemy.  In  ev 
ery  view,  therefore,  the  expedition  must 
answer. 

"  I  have  just  received  a  most  flattering 
letter  from  the  governor  of  New  Orleans. 
He  gives  me  the  title  of  '  General  de  los 
Estados  Unidos  Americanos]  which  is  a  tol 
erable  step  toward  declaring  himself  our 
ally  in  positive  terms.  The  substance  is, 
that  he  is  sensible  of  the  vast  advantages 
which  must  result  from  the  separation  to 
his  master  and  nation ;  that  he  can  not 
positively  enter  into  a  regular  system  of 
commerce  without  consulting  his  master ; 
but,  in  the  meantime,  he  will  render  us 
all  the  service  in  his  power.  I  only  wait 
myself  for  this  business  I  mention  of  Rog 
ers  and  Company  being  over.  I  shall  then 
fly  to  you ;  for,  to  confess  a  truth,  I  really 
think  our  chief  will  do  better  with  me 
than  without  me.  I  am,  &c., 

K  CHARLES  LEE." 

Washington  could  not  feel  flattered  by 
this  epistle,  and  must  have  been  greatly 
grieved  to  find  that  his  friend,  whom  he 
had  trusted  above  all,  was  carrying  on  a 
correspondence,  the  whole  purport  of 


which  was  his  own  depreciation  and  the 
elevation  of  Lee.  Washington,  having 
opened  the  letter  unsuspiciously,  imme 
diately  enclosed  it  to  Reed,  with  the  fol 
lowing  explanation : — 

"BRUNSWICK,  30  November,  1776. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  The  enclosed  was  put  in 
to  my  hands  by  an  express  from  White 
Plains.  Having  no  idea  of  its  being  a 
private  letter,  much  less  suspecting  the 
tendency  of  the  correspondence,  I  opened 
it,  as  I  had  done  all  other  letters  to  you, 
from  the  same  place  and  Peekskill,  upon 
the  business  of  your  office,  as  I  conceived 
and  found  them  to  be.  This,  as  it  is  the 
truth,  must  be  my  excuse  for  seeing  the 
contents  of  a  letter  which  neither  incli 
nation  nor  intention  would  have  prompt 
ed  me  to. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  trouble  and  fa 
tigue  you  have  undergone  in  your  jour 
ney  to  Burlington,  and  sincerely  wish 
that  your  labors  may  be  crowned  with 
the  desired  success.  With  best  respects 
to  Mrs.  Reed,  I  am,  dear  sir,  &c., 

"  GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

The  formal  politeness  of  this  letter — 
where  the  "Dear  sir"  stands  in  place  of 
the  former  "Dear  Reed" — shows  that 
the  heart  of  Washington's  friendship  for 
Reed  was  paralyzed  by  this  secret  and 
unsuspected  blow.  From  that  moment 
there  was  no  longer  the  same  cordiality 
between  the  two,  though  there  were  the 
most  courteous  relations,  and  finally,  in 
subsequent  years,  some  return  to  former 
intimacy. 

While  Washington  believed  that,  in  ac 
cordance  with  his  orders,  Lee  was  on  his 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LEE'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  HEATH. 


401 


route  to  join  him,  he  received  from  that 
recreant  general  a  letter  dated  "  Peeks- 
kill,  30th  November,"  in  which  he  says : 
"  The  day  after  to-morrow  we  shall  pass 
the  river,  when  I  should  be  glad  to  re 
ceive  your  instructions  ;  but  I  could  wish 
you  would  bind  me  as  little  as  possible; 
not  from  any  opinion,  I  do  assure  you,  of 
my  own  parts,  but  from  a  persuasion  that 
detached  generals  can  not  have  too  great 
latitude,  unless  they  are  very  incompe 
tent  indeed." 

Lee  also  complained  of  General  Heath's 
resolute  adherence  to  his  instructions. 
This  faithful  officer  had  refused  Lee's  re 
peated  solicitations  to  send  two  thousand 
men  across  the  Hudson.  Lest,  however, 
he  might  thus  be  depriving  the  command- 
er-in-chief  of  aid  that  was  necessary,  he 
wrote  to  him,  asking  him  whether  his  con 
duct  was  approved.  Washington,  in  his 
answer,  justified  Heath  in  his  refusal,  and 
ordered  him  to  persist  in  it.  Thus  forti 
fied,  Heath  adhered  with  continued  per 
tinacity  to  his  orders.  Lee,  notwithstand 
ing,  was  still  urgent,  and  went  so  far  as 
to  assume  the  responsibility  of  ordering 
out  two  of  Heath's  regiments.  We  shall, 
however,  let  General  Heath  narrate  this 
occurrence  in  his  own  words,  which  he 
uses  freely,  speaking  of  himself  always  in 
the  third  person,  as  "  our  general." 

"Just  before  dinner,  General 
Sullivan  arrived  at  our  general's 
[Heath's]  quarters ;  and,  in  the  afternoon, 
General  Lee  arrived.  He  called  at  the 
door;  when  our  general,  waiting  upon 
him,  requested  him  to  alight,  he  asked  if 
he  could  have  a  cup  of  tea,  and  was  an 
swered  that  he  should  have  a  good  one. 
51 


Nov.  30, 


Upon  coming  into  the  house,  before  he 
sat  down  he  wished  to  speak  in  private, 
which  being  instantly  granted,  he  told 
our  general  that,  in  a  military  view — or, 
to  use  his  own  words  exactly — 'In point 
oflaiv,  you  are  right ;  but,  in  point  of  pol 
icy,  I  think  you  are  wrong.  I  am  going 
into  the  Jerseys  for  the  salvation  of  Amer 
ica  ;  I  wish  to  take  with  me  a  larger  force 
than  I  now  have,  and  request  you  to  or 
der  two  thousand  of  your  men  to  march 
with  rne.'  Our  general  answered  that  he 
could  not  spare  that  number.  He  was 
then  asked  to  order  one  thousand;  to 
which  he  replied  that  the  business  might 
as  well  be  brought  to  a  point  at  once  — 
that  not  a  single  man  should  march  from 
the  post  by  his  order. 

"  General  Lee  replied  that  he  would 
then  order  them  himself.  He  was  an 
swered  that  there  was  a  wide  difference 
between  the  two ;  that  General  Lee  was 
acknowledged  by  our  general  to  be  his 
senior;  but,  as  he  had  received  positive 
written  instructions  from  him  who  was 
superior  to  both,  he  would  not  himself 
break  those  orders.  If  General  Lee  was 
disposed  to  counteract  them,  its  being- 
done  by  him  could  not  be  imputed  to  any 
other  person ;  and  that  he  knew  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  did  not  intend  any  of  the 
troops  should  be  removed  from  that  post 
—  having  expressed  it  no^  only  in  his 
instructions,  but  also  in  a  letter  just  re 
ceived  from  him. 

"  On  the  letter  being  shown  to  General 
Lee,  he  observed,  'The  commander-in- 
chief  is  now  at  a  distance,  and  does  not 
know  what  is  necessary  here  as  well  as 
I  do'  —  asked  if  he  might  be  favored  with 


402 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


the  return-book  of  the  division.  Major 
Huntington,  the  deputy  adjutant-general, 
was  directed  to  hand  it.  General  Lee  ran 
his  eye  over  it,  and  said, '  I  will  take  Pres- 
cott's  and  Wyllis's  regiments ;'  and,  turn 
ing  to  Major  Huntington,  said, '  You  will 
order  those  two  regiments  to  march  ear 
ly  to-morrow  morning  to  join  me.'  Our 
general,  turning  to  the  major,  said,  *  Issue 
such  orders  at  your  peril!'  —  and  then, 
turning  to  General  Lee,  addressed  him : 
'  Sir,  if  you  come  to  this  post,  and  mean 
to  issue  orders  here  which  will  break  those 
positive  ones  which  I  have  received,  I 
pray  you  to  do  it  completely  yourself, 
and  through  your  own  deputy  adjutant- 
general,  who  is  present,  and  not  draw  me, 
or  any  of  my  family,  in  as  partners  in  the 
guilt.  General  Lee  replied :  '  It  is  right. 
Colonel  Scammel,  do  you  issue  the  order ;' 
which  he  did,  and  Huntington  communi 
cated  it  to  the  regiments,  who  were  now 
posted  at  the  gorge  of  the  mountains, 
near  Robinson's  bridge,  afterward  called 
the  Continental  village. 

"  Matters  carried  thus  far,  our  general 
turned  to  General  Lee  again  :  i  Sir,  I  have 
one  more  request  to  make,  and  that  is, 
that  you  will  be  pleased  to  give  me  a  cer 
tificate  that  you  exercise  command  at  this 
post,  and  do  order  from  it  Prescott's  and 
Wyllis's  regiments.'  Lee  replied, 'I  do 
not  know  that  I  will  comply  with  your 
request.'  General  Clinton,  who  was  pres 
ent,  observed,  '  General  Lee,  you  can  not 
refuse  a  request  so  reasonable.'  Upon 
which  General  Lee  wrote  as  follows:  — 
"  '  PEEKSKILL,  December  1,  1776. 

" '  For  the  satisfaction  of  General  Heath, 
and  at  his  request,  I  do  certify  that  I  am 


commanding  officer,  at  this  present  wri 
ting,  in  this  post ;  and  that  I  have,  in  that 
capacity,  ordered  Prescott's  and  Wyllis's 
regiments  to  march. 

"  ' (Signed), 

"'CHARLES  LEE,  Maj.  Gen.' 

"  General  Lee,  stepping  out  on  the 
piazza,  observed  to  an  officer,  '  General 
Heath  is  right.'  Early  the  next  morn 
ing,  the  regiments  moved  from  their  can 
tonment  toward  Peekskill ;  but,  before 
they  had  reached  it,  General  Lee,  now 
ready  to  pass  into  the  Jerseys,  rode  up 
to  our  general's  door,  and,  calling  him, 
observed  :  '  Upon  further  consideration,  I 
have  concluded  not  to  take  the  two  regi 
ments  with  me.  You  may  order  them  to 
return  to  their  former  post:'  This  con 
duct  of  General  Lee's  appeared  not  a  lit 
tle  extraordinary,  and  one  is  almost  at  a 
loss  to  account  for  it."* 

Lee  finally  crossed  the  Hudson  with 
his  troops,  and,  having  taken  two  days 
(the  2d  and  3d  of  December)  for  the  pas 
sage,  began  a  slow,  lingering  march.  The 
commander-in-chief  still  continued  to  re 
treat  before  the  enemy,  and,  having  ar 
rived  at  Trenton,  writes  again  to 
Lee,  saying,  "The  sooner  you 
can  join  me  with  your  division,  the  sooner 
the  service  will  be  benefited."  In  regard 
to  Lee's  complaints  of  Heath's  tenacity 
of  his  instructions,  and  of  his  refusal  to 
allow  any  of  his  troops  to  cross  the  river, 
Washington  says,  very  peremptorily,  "As 
to  bringing  any  of  the  troops  under  Gen 
eral  Heath,  I  can  not  consent  to  it." 

Lee,  in  his  next  letter  to  his  superior, 
fairly  discloses  his  purpose  of  acting  in- 

*  Heath's  Memoirs,  pp.  94-96. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LEE'S  ARROGANT  ASSUMPTIONS. 


403 


dependency,  although  he  strives  to  con 
ceal  it  beneath  the  shallow  pretence  that, 
since  Washington  had  quitted  Brunswick, 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  know  where 
to  join  him  !  "  But  although,"  continues 
Lee,  UI  should  not  be  able  to  join  you  at  all, 
the  service  which  I  can  render  you  will, 
I  hope,  be  full  as  efficacious."  The  north 
ern  army,  it  will  be  recollected,  had  been 
ordered  by  Washington  to  join  him.  Lee, 
it  appears  from  his  letter,  had  resolved 
that  the  junction  should  be  with  his  own 
troops,  and  not  with  those  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief.  "The  northern  army  has 
already  advanced  nearer  to  Morri^town 
than  I  am,  and,"  grandly  adds  the  ambi 
tious  Lee,  "I  shall  put  myself  at  their 
head  to-morrow."  He  not  only  thus  ac 
knowledges  that  he  is  about  to  assume  a 
command  to  which  he  is  not  entitled,  but 
even  alludes  to  the  tactics  which  he  pro 
poses  to  pursue.  "  We  shall,"  he  says, 
"  upon  the  whole,  compose  an  army  of 
five  thousand  good  troops,  in  spirits.  I 
should  imagine,  dear  general,  that  it  may 


be  of  service  to  communicate  this  to  the 
troops  immediately  under  your  command. 
It  may  encourage  them,  and  startle  the 
enemy.  In  fact,  their  confidence  must 
be  risen  to  a  prodigious  height,  if  they 
pursue  you,  ivith  so  formidable  a  bodf/  hang 
ing  on  their  flanlc  and  rear" 

Here  we  leave  General  Lee,  lagging 
on  his  march  from  Haverstraw  to  Morris- 
town,  where  he  hoped  to  receive  the  re 
inforcements  from  the  North,  and  watch 
his  opportunity  of  marching  and  inflict 
ing  that  triumphant  blow  upon  the  flank 
or  rear  of  the  enemy.  Lee's  only  anxi 
ety  about  Washington's  hazardous  posi 
tion  seems  to  be  lest  it  should  endanger 
the  safety  of  his  horse,  for  he  writes,  "  I 
entreat  you  [General  Washington]  to  or 
der  some  of  your  suite  to  take  out  of  the 
way  of  danger  my  favorite  mare,  which 
is  at  that  Wilson's,  three  miles  beyond 
Princeton."  He  truly  remarks,  however, 
previously,  that  "  it  is  paltry  to  think  of 
our  personal  affairs,  when  the  whole  is  at 
stake." 


404 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


PART    II 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

Washington  quits  Newark. — Cornwallis  enters. — Washington  at  Brunswick. — He  strives  to  obtain  Reinforcements. — Brit 
ish  Interests  in  the  Ascendant  in  New  Jersey. — The  Persuasiveness  of  the  Howes'  Proclamation. — Mercy  promised. — 
"Lord,  deliver  us  from  his  Mercy!" — The  Tory  Disposition  of  the  Magnates. — Washington  hopeless  of  making  a 
Stand  in  New  Jersey. — He  continues  his  Retreat. — Alexander  Hamilton  keeps  the  Enemy  in  Check. — Destruction  of 
the  Bridge  at  Brunswick. — The  March  to  Princeton. — Washington  crosses  the  Delaware. — Retreat  of  Lord  Stirling 
from  Princeton. — Putnam  ordered  to  Philadelphia,  to  fortify. — Lee  still  recreant. — His  Cool  Impudence. — Washington 
entreats. — Letter  upon  Letter. — Lee  intercepts  the  Forces  from  the  North. — Gates  ordered  to  the  Rescue. — Capture  of 
Lee. — Wilkinson's  Account  of  it. — The  Secret  of  the  Capture  disclosed. 


1776, 


WASHINGTON  was  not  enabled  to 
linger  on  his  march.  After  a  week 
at  Newark,  it  became  necessary  to  move 
on  again.  "  It  was  the  wish  of  all,"  says 
Washington,  "  to  have  remained  there 
longer,  and  to  have  halted  before  we  came 
thus  far ;  but,  upon  due  consideration  of 
our  strength,  the  circumstances  attending 
the  enlistment  of  a  great  part  of  our  lit 
tle  force,  and  the  frequent  advices  that 
the  enemy  were  embarking  or  about  to 
embark  another  detachment  from  Staten 
island,  with  a  view  of  landing  at  Arnboy," 
it  was  judged  necessary  to  proceed.  The 
advance-guards  of  Cornwallis  entered  the 
town  as  the  American  rear  left.  Bruns 
wick  was  the  next  point  which 
Washington  reached.  Here  the 
flying  camp  continued  to  dissolve.  Not 
only  did  those  whose  services  had  ex 
pired  go  away,  but  even  those  who  were 
engaged  for  a  month  longer  departed  al 
so,  so  that  the  army  was  "  reduced  to  a 
mere  handful." 

Washington  made  an  urgent  appeal  to 
the  governor  of  New  Jersey  to  "  fall  up 
on  the  proper  means  to  draw  forth  the 
strength"  of  his  province  to  his  support. 
Livingston  was  earnestly  patriotic,  but 


he  could  do  little  at  that  time  toward 
getting  recruits  for  service  in  the  good 
cause.  The  British  interests  were  in  the 
ascendant.  A  miserable  remnant  of  troops 
in  retreat  represented  the  one ;  a  trium 
phant  army  supported  the  other.  Un 
der  these  circumstances, the  proclamation 
of  the  two  Howes  proved  wondrously 
persuasive.  On  the  30th  of  November 
the  two  brothers,  his  lordship  and  Sir  Wil 
liam,  industriously  circulated  throughout 
the  Jerseys  a  document,  by  which  pardon 
was  offered  to  all  such  as  had  opposed 
the  king's  authority;  and  who  should, 
within  sixty  days,  subscribe  a  declaration 
that  they  would  remain  in  peaceable  obe 
dience  to  his  majesty,  neither  taking  up 
arms  themselves  nor  encouraging  others 
to  take  up  arms  against  him.  Washing 
ton  reports  that  a  clergyman,  "  who  was 
a  staunch  friend  to  the  cause,"  in  allusion 
to  the  latitude  of  pardon  extended  by 
Lord  Howe,  said,  "No  one  man  in  the 
continent  is  to  be  denied  his  mercy,"  but 
added,  "The  Lord  deliver  us  from  his 
mercy !"  Numbers,  who  had  been  pro 
vincial  congressmen,  committee-men,  jus 
tices,  and  the  like,  though  out  of  the  wny 
of  immediate  danger,  ran  to  take  advan- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          WASHINGTON  CROSSES  THE  DELAWARE. 


405 


Dec.  2, 


tage  of  the  proclamation.  Many  of  the 
whigs  shifted  about.  Only  a  few  of  for 
tune  stood  firm  to  the  cause.  It  was  the 
middle  rank  of  people  in  general  that  re 
mained  steadfast  in  this  day  of  trial.  The 
success  of  the  royal  army  extended  its  in 
fluence  also  to  Pennsylvania.  Mr.  Gallo 
way,  the  family  of  the  Aliens,  with  some 
others,  repaired  to  the  commissioners,  to 
claim  the  benefits  of  the  general  pardon.* 
Washington  had  little  hope  of  being 
able  to  make  a  stand  in  New  Jersey  in  re 
sistance  to  his  pursuers  and  their  accumu 
lating  allies.  He  therefore  began  to  for 
ward  a  part  of  his  stores  to  Philadelphia, 
even  while  at  Brunswick.  The  enemy 
were  close  behind  him,  and,  now  showing 
themselves  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
Raritan,  the  American  general 
quitted  Brunswick,  taking  care 
to  destroy  the  bridge  which  crossed  the 
river  at  that  town,  Captain  Alexander 
Hamilton  keeping  the  British  in  check 
with  his  artillery.  Princeton  was  the  next 
point  at  which  the  retreating  army  halt 
ed,  where,  in  order  that  the  country  might 
in  some  measure  be  covered,  Washington 
left  two  brigades  (consisting  of  the  five 
Virginia  regiments  and  that  of  Delaware, 
containing  in  the  whole  about  twelve  hun 
dred  men  fit  for  duty),  under  the  com 
mand  of  Lord  Stirling  and  his  old  Virgin 
ia  comrade  in  the  French  War,  Stephen, 
who  had  been  lately  appointed  a  brigadier- 
general.  This  detachment  was  set  about 
transporting  the  baggage  and  stores  over 
the  Delaware,  while  Washington  moved 
on  with  the  rest  of  his  troops  to  Trenton. 
He  now  proposed  to  reinforce  Lord 

*  Gordon. 


Dec.  8. 


Stirling,  whom  he  had  left  at  Princeton, 
with  twelve  hundred  men ;  but  while  pre 
paring  to  march  in  that  direction,  he  re 
ceived  an  express  from  his  lordship,  wh 
informed  him  that  he  was  retreating  to 
Trenton.  The  earl  gave  as  his  reasons 
for  this  movement,  the  advance  of  the 
enemy  by  different  routes — by  one  of 
which  they  were  attempting  to  get  in 
his  rear;  and  the  indefensibility  of  Prince 
ton,  from  the  nature  of  the  place,  and  the 
small  number  of  Americans  to  hold  it. 

The  British  were  again  close  at  hand  ; 
and  one  of  the  two  divisions  of  Cornwal- 
lis  reached  the  Delaware  at  mid 
night,  just  as  the  rear-guard  of 
Washington's  army  gained  the  opposite 
bank.  The  American  troops  had  dwin 
dled  away  to  the  scant  number  of  about 
three  thousand.  All  the  boats  along  the 
river  were  secured ;  and  Washington,  al 
though  trying  his  utmost  to  check  the 
progress  of  the  enemy,  thought  it  impos 
sible  with  his  small  force  to  give  them 
any  considerable  opposition  in  the  pas 
sage  of  the  Delaware,  should  they  at 
tempt  it. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  securi 
ty  of  Philadelphia  was  Washington's  next 
object.  He  thought  that  a  communica 
tion  of  lines  and  redoubts  might  soon  be 
formed  from  the  Delaware  to  the  Schuyl- 
kill,  on  the  northern  entrance  of  the  city ; 
the  lines  to  begin  on  the  Schuylkill  side 
about  the  heights  of  Springatebay,  and 
run  eastward  to  the  Delaware,  upon  the 
highest  and  most  advantageous  grounds, 
If  something  of  the  kind  should  not  be 
done,  he  believed  that  the  British  might 
march  directly  in  and  take  possession. 


406 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


n. 


"  We  have  ever  found,"  says  Washington, 
"  that  lines,  however  slight,  are  very  for 
midable  to  them.  They  would  at  least 
give  a  check  till  the  people  could  recover 
from  the  fright  and  consternation  that 
naturally  attend  the  first  appearance  of 
an  enemy." 

Washington  acted  promptly,  in  accord 
ance  with  these  views.  General  Mifflin 
had  just  arrived  and  informed  him  that 
all  the  military  stores  yet  remained  in 
Philadelphia.  He  therefore  thought  there 
was  no  time  to  be  lost  in  fortifying  that 
city ;  and  he  accordingly  despatched  Ma 
jor-General  Putnam  to  superintend  the 
works  and  give  the  necessary  directions, 
and  ordered  Mifflin  back  again  to  take 
charge  of  the  stores. 

In  the  meantime.  General  Lee  was  so 
absorbed  in  his  own  magnificent  schemes, 
that  he  did  not  seem  to  trouble  himself 
about  the  commander-in-chief  and  his  re 
peated  summons.  "  I  have  no  certain  in 
telligence  of  General  Lee,"  writes  Wash 
ington  on  the  8th  of  December,  "although 
I  have  sent  frequent  expresses  to  him, 
and  lately  Colonel  Hampton,  to  bring  me 
some  accurate  accounts  of  his  situation. 
I  last  night  despatched  another  gentle 
man  to  him,  Major  Hoops,  desiring  he 
would  hasten  his  march  to  the  Delaware, 
in  which  I  would  provide  boats,  near  a 
place  called  Alexandria,  for  the  transpor 
tation  of  his  troops.  I  can  not  account 
for  the  slowness  of  his  march." 

Lee  had  only  got  as  far  as  Morristown, 
having  taken  three  weeks  to  reach  that 
place,  when  Colonel  Hampton  arrived. 
What  that  officer  could  have  reported  in 
regard  to  the  condition  of  Washington's 


Dec.  8. 


army,  we  can  not  say  ;  but  if  he  confined 
himself  strictly  to  the  truth,  the  follow 
ing  seems  a  marvel  of  cool  impudence  on 
the  part  of  Lee,  when  he  writes  to  the 
commander-in-chief:  "If  I  was 
not  taught  to  think  that  your  ar 
my  was  considerably  reinforced,  I  should 
immediately  join  you ;  but,  as  I  am  as 
sured  you  are  very  strong,  I  should  im 
agine  we  can  make  a  better  impression 
by  hanging  on  their  rear,  for  which  pur 
pose  a  good  post  at  Chatham  seems  the 
best  calculated.  It  is  at  a  happy  distance 
from  Newark,Elizabethtown,Wood  bridge, 
and  Bound  brook  ;  it  will  annoy,  distract, 
and  consequently  weaken  them." 

Lee  seems  to  have  met  with  more  suc 
cess  in  recruiting  than  Washington,  and 
estimates  that,  with  the  militia,  added  to 
the  twenty-seven  hundred  troops  which 
he  brought  with  him  across  the  Hudson, 
his  army  amounts  to  about  four  thousand 
men.  Washington  suggested  the  idea  of 
surprising  Brunswick.  Lee,  however,  in 
those  days  of  self-exaltation,  was  little 
disposed  either  to  listen  to  the  sugges 
tions  or  obey  the  orders  of  his  superior. 
"  The  post  I  propose  taking,"  he  replies, 
"  offers  the  greatest  probability  of  success; 
but  we  are  so  ill  shod,  and  destitute  of 
light-horse,  that  this  desultory  war  is  hard 
upon  the  poor  soldiers.  But  I  must  do 
them  the  justice  to  say,  that  they  have 
noble  spirits,  and  will,  I  have  no  doubt, 
render  great  service  to  their  country." 
The  recreant  Lee  concludes  this  impu 
dent  self-assertion  of  authority  with  a 
"  God  bless  you,  general !" 

Washington  received  this  communica 
tion  by  Colonel  Hampton  on  his  return, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LEE'S  CONTINUED  RECREANCY. 


407 


Dec,  10. 


and  immediately  despatched  an 
other  summons.  Taking  care  to 
inform  Lee  that  his  situation  was  directly 
the  opposite  of  what  he  (Lee)  supposed 
it  to  be,  and  that  General  Howe  was  pres 
sing  forward  with  the  whole  of  his  army 
to  possess  himself  of  Philadelphia,  Wash 
ington  continues  :  "  I  can  not  but  request 
and  entreat  you,  and  this  too  by  the  ad 
vice  of  all  the  general  officers  with  me, 
to  march  and  join  me  with  your  whole 
force  with  all  possible  expedition.  The 
utmost  exertions  that  can  be  made,  will 
not  be  more  than  sufficient  to  save  Phila 
delphia.  Without  the  aid  of  your  force 
I  think  there  is  but  little,  if  any,  prospect 

of  doing  it Do  come  on ;  your  arrival 

may  be  fortunate,  and,  if  it  can  be  effect 
ed  without  delay,  it  may  be  the  means  of 
preserving  a  city,  whose  loss  must  prove 
of  the  most  fatal  consequence  to  the  cause 
of  America." 

Previous  to  the  receipt  of  this  commu 
nication,  Major  Hoops  had  arrived  atLee's 
quarters  with  a  letter  from  the  command- 
er-in-chief,  in  which  the  smallness  of  his 
force  was  stated.  Lee,  in  answer,  as  if 
suddenly  startled  by  the  fact,  describes 
himself  "  shocked  to  hear"  that 
Washington's  force  was  so  inad 
equate  to  the  necessity  of  his  situation, 
as  he  had  been  "  taught  to  think"  that  he 
had  been  considerably  reinforced.  Lee 
can  not  persuade  himself  that  Philadel 
phia  is  the  object  of  the  enemy  ;  and,  hav 
ing  posted  himself  at  Chatham,  he  seemed 
determined  not  to  budge,  let  Washington 
beg,  entreat,  and  order,  as  he  might.  "  I 
have  put  myself  in  position,"  writes  Lee 
to  the  chief,  "  the  most  convenient  to  co- 


Dec,  8, 


operate  with  you, by  attacking  their  rear." 
And,  again:  "It  will  be  difficult,  I  am 
afraid,  to  join  you ;  but  can  not  I  do  you 
more  service  by  attacking  their  rear  ?" 

Three  days  subsequently,  Lee  writes 
again  to  Washington,  and  would 
seem  to  be  in  a  more  compliant 
humor,  for  he  talks  of  crossing  the  Dela 
ware  ;  but,  as  he  also  alludes  to  taking  a 
route  by  the  road  toward  Burlington,  he 
evidently  clings  to  his  old  idea  of  a  sepa 
rate  attack  upon  the  enemy,  with  a  view 
of  cutting  their  cordon,  contrary  to  Wash 
ington's  views  and  commands.  General 
Howe,  it  must  be  understood,  held  the 
banks  of  the  Delaware  at  that  point,  and 
as  far  north  as  Pennington  ;  and  Lee  was 
directed  to  take  a  northerly  route  through 
Pittstown  to  Tinicum  ferry,  at  Alexan 
dria,  by  which  he  might  avoid  the  British; 
and  join  Washington's  enfeebled  force  at 
Trenton. 

Orders,  it  will  be  recollected,  had  been 
sent  by  Washington  to  General  Schuyler 
to  despatch  the  northern  troops  as  rapid 
ly  as  possible  to  the  aid  of  the  army  in 
New  Jersey.  These  orders  were  commu 
nicated  to  General  Gates,  then  at  Albany, 
who  despatched  a  detachment  of  three 
regiments,  under  General  St.  Clair,  to  de 
scend  the  North  river  to  New  Windsor, 
and  then  march  to  reinforce  the  army  in 
New  Jersey.  Lee,  however,  intercepted 
all  that  remained  of  these  troops,  with  an 
order  to  join  him  !  Gates  himself,  accom 
panied  by  General  Arnold,  led  the  rem 
nant  of  the  northern  army,  consisting  of 
four  regiments,  and,  having  sailed  down 
the  North  river,  landed  at  Esopus,  whence 
he  proposed  to  join  Washington  in  New 


408 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


Dec.  14. 


Jersey.  The  latter,  aware  of  his  approach, 
sent  a  despatch,  with  the  hope 
of  its  meeting  him  on  his  route. 
In  this,  Gates  was  entreated  not  to  delay 
a  moment  in  hastening  to  Pittstown.  "  I 
expect  General  Lee  will  be  there,"  says 
Washington, "this evening  or  to-morrow." 
At  the  moment  this  was  written,  Lee  was, 
however,  unknown  to  Washington,  in  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  The  lofty  flights  of 
that  ambitious  general  had  been  suddenly 
checked,  on  the  morning  of  the  13th,  by 
his  capture,  the  particulars  of  which  we 
now  give  in  the  words  of  one  who  was 
present. 

Wilkinson  (then  a  major),  whose  story 
we  relate,  presented  himself  to  General 
Gates  on  the  5th  of  December,  having 
been  temporarily  absent  from  his  com 
mand  in  consequence  of  ill  health.  Gates, 
says  he,  "  had  at  that  time  heard  of  Gen 
eral  Washington's  crossing  the  North  riv 
er,  and  the  loss  of  Fort  Washington,  but 
had  received  no  satisfactory  information 
of  posterior  incidents  and  movements, 
though  a  thousand  vague  reports  were  in 
circulation.  Thus  circumstanced,  his  in 
structions  led  him  to  take  the  back  route 
from  Esopus,  by  the  Delaware  and  the 
Minisink,  and  we  reached  Van  Kempt's, 
near  the  Wallpeck,  in  very  intemperate 
weather.  In  this  sequestered  valley  we 
were  thrown  out  of  the  ordinary  current 
of  intelligence,  and  cut  off  from  all  au 
thentic  information  respecting  the  ad 
verse  armies.  The  winter  had  set  in  with 
severity;  our  troops  were  bare  of  cloth 
ing  ;  numbers  barefoot,  and  without  tents, 
provisions,  or  transport  of  any  kind.  The 
men  and  officers  sought  shelter  wherever 


they  could  find  it  in  that  thinly-settled 
tract.  We  were  halted  on  the  llth  [of 
December]  by  a  heavy  fall  of  snow,  which 
increased  the  general's  anxiety  for  infor 
mation  from  General  Washington,  and,  to 
relieve  his  solicitude,  I  volunteered  my 
services  to  find  him.  The  proposition 
was  adopted, and  a  letter  (to  Washington) 
prepared,  with  which  I  was  despatched 
on  the  morning  of  the  12th  of  Decem 
ber. 

"I  crossed  the  hills  to  Sussex  court 
house,  where  I  received  advice  that  Gen 
eral  Washington  had  passed  the  Dela 
ware  several  days  before,  and  that  the 
enemy  had  reached  Trenton.  In  conse 
quence  of  this  information,  I  employed  a 
guide,  and  proceeded  down  the  country. 
On  the  road  I  casually  met  an  officer  of 
my  acquaintance,  who  informed  me  that 
the  boats  had  been  removed  from  the  fer 
ries,  and  that  I  should  find  some  difficulty 
in  getting  across  the  Delaware,  and  that 
Major-General  Lee  was  at  Morristown. 

"  Finding  such  obstacles  in  my  way  to 
the  commander-in-chief,  I  determined  to 
seek  his  second,  and  to  ask  orders  from 
him  for  General  Gates;  and,  although 
dark,  I  continued  my  journey  without 
halt.  About  midnight,  passing  a  house 
by  the  wayside,  I  discovered  a  glimmer 
ing  light,  and,  on  application  to  my  guide, 
was  informed  it  issued  from  a  tavern.  I 
dismounted,  and,  after  a  short  parley  at 
the  door,  gained  admittance,  and  found 
the  women  on  the  watch  over  the  embers 
of  an  expiring  fire ;  for  I  perceived  the 
whole  country  to  be  in  terror  and  alarm. 
These  women  knew  nothing  of  General 
Lee;  but, after  some  whispering, informed 


i 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MAJOR  WILKINSON'S  NARRATIVE. 


me  two  strange  officers  were  in  bed  above 
me,  on  which  I  desired  one  of  the  party 
to  awaken  and  inform  them  an  express 
desired  to  speak  with  them.  The  maid 
proceeded  with  a  candle  to  execute  my 
orders,  and  soon  after  I  heard  a  loud 
shriek. 

"  I  instantly  mounted  the  stairs,  and, 
guided  by  the  light,  entered  the  cham 
ber,  when  a  momentary  scene  of  some 
interest  took  place.  Two  gentlemen  were 
sitting  up  in  the  same  bed,  and  the  maid 
standing  at  a  distance  from  them,  in  an 
apparent  agony,  with  the  candle  in  her 
hand.  The  shriek  had  been  caused  by 
the  conduct  of  one  of  the  gentlemen, 
whom  the  girl  had  awoke ;  but  his  wan 
ton  levity  was  in  a  moment  changed  into 
painful  apprehensions.  Awaking  out  of 
a  sound  sleep  in  the  dead  of  night,  the 
unexpected  and  menacing  appearance  of 
an  officer,  with  a  Canadian  capot,  a  scarlet 
under-coat,  and  a  gold-laced  hat,  with  a 
pistol  in  each  hand,  was  sufficient  to  dis 
sipate  all  sense  of  an  amorous  nature,  and 
to  excite  those  frigid  sensations  which 
can  not  be  realized  so  sensibly  as  when 
an  unarmed  man  believes  himself  in  the 
power  of  an  enemy.  For  a  moment  the 
gentlemen  were  struck  dumb  with  alarm ; 
literally  naked  and  defenceless,  and  be 
lieving  me  to  be  a  British  officer,  their 
situation  appeared  hopeless,  and  it  was 
several  seconds  before  they  demanded, 
'Who  are  you?'" 

The  major  soon  relieved  their  fright, 
and,  after  making  himself  known,  and  re 
ceiving  their  names  and  quality  in  return, 
a  greeting  ensued,  which  was,  however, 
so  emphatic  in  expression — proving  in- 
52 


dubitably  that "  our  army  swore  terribly" 
in  the  Jerseys — that  we  prefer  to  omit 
the  verbal  relation  of  Wilkinson.  The 
gentlemen  thus  suddenly  aroused  wer 
Colonel  Gibson  and  a  Mr.  Nourse.  They 
"  had  parted  from  General  Lee  the  even 
ing  before,  and  were  absent  on  furlough ; 
and  Mr.  Nourse  being  General  Lee's  pri 
vate  secretary,"  continues  Major  Wilkin 
son,  "  they  could  of  course  direct  me  with 
precision  where  to  find  him.  Taking 
leave  of  them,  I  pursued  my  journey,  and 
about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  reached 
his  quarters  at  White's  tavern,  on  Bask 
ing  ridge. 

"  I  was  presented  to  the  general  as  he 
lay  in  bed,  and  delivered  into  his  hands 
the  letter  of  General  Gates.  He  exam 
ined  the  superscription,  and  observed  it 
was  addressed  to  General  Washington, 
and  declined  opening  it,  until  I  apprized 
him  of  the  contents,  and  the  motives  of 
my  visit ;  he  then  broke  the  seal  and  read 
it,  after  which  he  desired  me  to  take  re 
pose.  I  lay  down  on  my  blanket  before 
a  comfortable  fire,  amidst  the  officers  of 
his  suite ;  for  we  were  not  in  those  days 
encumbered  with  beds  or  baggage. 

"  I  arose  at  the  dawn,  but  could  not  see 
the  general,  with  whom  I  had  been  pre 
viously  acquainted,  before  eight  o'clock. 
After  some  inquiries  respecting  the  con 
duct  of  the  campaign  on  the  northern 
frontier,  he  gave  me  a  brief  account  of 
the  operations  of  the  grand  army,  which 
he  condemned  in  strong  terms.  He  ob 
served  that  our  siege  of  Boston  had  led 
us  into  great  errors ;  that  the  attempt  to 
defend  islands  against  a  superior  land  and 
naval  force  was  madness;  that  Sir  Wil- 


410 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


liam  Howe  could  have  given  us  check 
mate  at  his  discretion ;  and  that  we  owed 
our  salvation  to  his  indolence,  or  disincli 
nation  to  terminate  the  war.  '  When  I 
reached  the  army  on  York  island/  said 
Lee, '  all  hands  were  busily  employed  in 
collecting  materials  and  erecting  bar 
racks  ;  and  I  found  little  Mifflin  exulting 
in  the  prospect  of  fine  winter-quarters  at 
Kingsbridge.  I  replied  to  him  :  "  Winter- 
quarters  here,  sir !  and  the  British  army 
still  in  the  field !  Go,  set  fire  to  those 
you  have  built,  and  get  away  by  the 
light,  or  Sir  William  Howe  will  find  quar 
ters  for  you  !"  ' 

"  General  Lee  wasted  the  morning  in 
altercation  with  certain  militia-corps  who 
were  of  his  command,  particularly  the 
Connecticut  light-horse,  several  of  whom 
appeared  in  large,  full-bottomed  perukes, 
and  were  treated  very  irreverently.  One 
wanted  forage,  another  his  horse  shod, 
another  his  pay,  a  fourth  provisions ;  to 
which  the  general  replied  :  '  Your  wants 
are  numerous ;  but  you  have  not  men 
tioned  the  last:  you  want  to  go  home, 
and  shall  be  indulged,  for,  d — n  you,  you 
do  no  good  here  !'  The  call  of  the  adju 
tant-general  for  orders  also  occupied  some 
of  his  time,  and  we  did  not  sit  down  to 
breakfast  before  ten  o'clock. 

"  General  Lee  was  engaged  in  answer 
ing  General  Gates's  letter,  and  I  had  risen 
from  the  table,  and  was  looking  out  an 
end-window,  down  a  lane  about  one  hun 
dred  yards  in  length,  which  led  to  the 
house  from  the  main  road,  when  I  discov 
ered  a  party  of  British  dragoons  turn  a 
corner  of  the  avenue  at  full  charge.  Star 
tled  at  this  unexpected  spectacle,  I  ex 


claimed,  '  Here,  sir,  are  the  British  caval 
ry !' — '  Where?'  replied  the  general,  who 
had  signed  his  letter  in  the  instant. — 
'Around  the  house  !'  for  they  had  opened 
files,  and  encompassed  the  building.  Gen 
eral  Lee  appeared  alarmed,  yet  collected, 
and  his  second  observation  marked  his 
self-possession:  'Where  is  the  guard? — 
d — n  the  guard!  why  don't  they  fire?' 
And,  after  a  momentary  pause,  he  turned 
to  me  and  said, '  Do,  sir,  see  what  has  be 
come  of  the  guard.' 

"  The  women  of  the  house  at  this  mo 
ment  entered  the  room,  and  proposed  to 
him  to  conceal  himself  in  a  bed,  which  he 
rejected  with  evident  disgust.  I  caught 
up  my  pistols,  which  lay  on  the  table, 
thrust  the  letter  he  had  been  writing  into 
my  pocket,  and  passed  into  a  room  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  house,  where  I  had 
seen  the  guard  in  the  morning.  Here  I 
discovered  their  arms ;  but  the  men  were 
absent.  I  stepped  out  of  the  door,  and 
perceived  the  dragoons  chasing  them  in 
different  directions;  and,  receiving  a  very 
uncivil  salutation,  I  returned  into  the 
house. 

"  Too  inexperienced  immediately  to 
penetrate  the  motives  of  this  enterprise, 
I  considered  the  rencontre  accidental ;  and, 
from  the  terrific  tales  spread  over  the 
country,  of  the  violence  and  barbarity  of 
the  enemy,  I  believed  it  to  be  a  wanton, 
murdering  party,  and  determined  not  to 
die  without  company.  I  accordingly 
sought  a  position  where  I  could  not  be 
approached  by  more  than  one  person  at 
a  time,  and  with  a  pistol  in  each  hand  I 
awaited  the  expected-  search,  resolved  to 
shoot  tlip  first  and  the  second  person  who 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


GENERAL  LEE  TAKEN  PRISONER. 


411 


might  appear,  and  then  to  appeal  to  my 
sword. 

"  I  did  not  remain  long  in  this  unpleas 
ant  situation,  but  was  apprized  of  the  ob 
ject  of  the  incursion  by  the  very  audible 
declaration — i If 'the general does  not  surren 
der  in  five  minutes,  I  will  set  fire  to  the  house!' 
which,  after  a  short  pause,  was  repeated, 
with  a  solemn  oath ;  and  within  two  min 
utes  I  heard  it  proclaimed,  'Here  is  the 
general — he  has  surrendered!  A  general 
shout  ensued ;  the  trumpet  sounded  the 
assembly ;  and  the  unfortunate  Lee, 
mounted  on  my  horse,  which  stood  ready 
at  the  door,  was  hurried  off  in  triumph, 
bareheaded,  in  his  slippers  and  blanket- 
coat,  his  collar  open,  and  his  shirt  very 
much  soiled  from  several  days'  use." 

It  seems  that  a  New- Jersey  tory — "  a 
domestic  traitor,"  as  Major  Wilkinson  calls 
him — who  had  passed  Lee's  quarters  that 


morning,  fell  in  on  the  road  with  Colonel 
Harcourt,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  British 
dragoons,  out  reconnoitring,  and  gave  in 
formation  of  the  general's  whereabouts. 
Harcourt,  however,  might  not  have  been 
in  time,  had  not  Lee  lingered  so  long  in 
bed,  and  spun  out  the  morning  chatting 
with  his  visiter,  scolding  at  his  militia- 
officers,  and  writing  his  letter  to  General 
Gates.  If  it  had  not  been  for  this  un 
timely  delay,  he  would  probably  not  have 
been  caught  at  White's  tavern,  but  have 
reached  his  camp  at  Veal  town. .  The  guard 
were  al  careless  as  the  general.  The 
morning  being  cold  and  the  sun  bright, 
the  men  had  stacked  their  guns,  left  their 
station,  crossed  the  main  road,  and  were 
sunning  themselves  on  the  south  side  of 
a  house  about  two  hundred  yards  from 
the  tavern,  when  the  British  colonel  rode 
up  and  cut  them  off  from  their  arms. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

General  Lee's  Motives  explained. — His  Letter  to  General  Gates. — A  Traitor? — The  Effect  of  the  Capture. — Exultation 
of  the  Enemy. — Major  Wilkinson's  Escape,  and  his  Account  of  it. — Gates  affected  by  Lee's  Capture. — Gates  on  his 
Route  to  join  Washington  in  New  Jersey. — Washington  perplexed,  but  not  in  Despair. — The  Congress  at  Philadelphia 
alarmed  by  the  Approach  of  the  Enemy. — Baltimore  appointed  as  the  Next  Place  of  Meeting. — Washington's  Powers 
extended. — His  Scrupulous  Exercise  of  them. — The  Condition  of  the  American  Army. — Effort  to  save  Philadelphia. — 
The  Banks  of  the  Delaware  guarded. — The  Enemy  will  not  cross  the  River. — The  Provincial  Force  strengthened. — 
Washington  resolves  upon  Offensive  Operations. — A  Letter  of  Advice  from  Colonel  Reed. — A  Day  appointed  for  an 
Attack. — General  Gates  goes  to  Philadelphia. — His  Opinion  of  Washington  as  a  Tactician. — "  On  his  Way  to  Con 
gress  !— on  his  Way  to  Congress  !" 


1776, 


GENERAL  LEE,  at  the  time  of  his 
capture,  was  evidently  not  disposed 
to  cross  the  Delaware,  as  he  had  repeat 
edly  and  most  urgently  been  ordered  to 
do  by  Washington.  After  lingering  at 


Morristown  for  several  days,  he  left  it  on 
the  12th  of  December;  but,  when  taken, 
his  army  had  only  marched  twelve  miles, 
to  Vealtown.  Major  Wilkinson,  moreo 
ver,  tells  us  that "  when  Colonel  Scammel, 


412 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


the  adjutant-general,  called  on  him  from 
General  Sullivan,  who  was  encamped  with 
the  troops,  for  orders  of  march  on  the 
morning  of  his  capture,  after  musing  a 
minute  or  two,  he  asked  the  colonel  if  he 
had  with  him  the  manuscript  map  of  the 
country,  which  was  produced  and  spread 
on  a  table.  It  attracted  my  attention, 
and  I  observed  General  Lee  trace  with 
his  finger  the  route  from  Vealtown  to 
Pluckimen,  thence  to  Somerset  court 
house,  and  on  by  Rocky  hill  to  Prince 
ton  ;  he  then  returned  to  Pluckamin,  and 
traced  the  route  in  the  same  manner,  by 
Boundbrook  to  Brunswick,  and,  after  a 
close  inspection,  carelessly  said  to  Scam- 
mel,  'Tell  General  Sullivan  to  move  down 
toward  Pluckimen — that  I  will  be  soon 
with  him.' " 

The  order  to  Sullivan  to  march  to 
Pluckimen  was  not  inconsistent  with  an 
intention  to  obey  the  command  of  Wash 
ington  to  cross  the  Delaware  at  Alexan 
dria  ;  but  if  the  tracing  of  his  finger  on 
the  map,  so  closely  observed  by  the  vigi 
lant  eye  of  Wilkinson,  is  to  be  taken  as 
an  indication  of  Lee's  intended  march,  he 
clearly  at  the  last  moment  was  preparing 
to  strike  a  blow  against  the  enemy,  at  the 
risk  of  his  fair  fame.  He  was  ready  to 
hazard  all  on  the  chance  of  success.  A 
victory,  he  thought,  would  raise  such  a 
flood  of  popular  applause  as  to  drown  all 
inquiry.  A  defeat,  he  knew,  could  only 
result  in  disgrace  and  punishment  for  dis 
obedience  of  orders.  Lee  was  not,  how 
ever,  apparently  very  confident  of  win 
ning  in  the  hazardous  game  he  was  play 
ing.  His  letter  to  Gates,  which  Wilkin 
son  hurriedly  thrust  into  his  pocket  be 


fore  it  was  folded,  is  desponding,  although 
it  confirms  the  suspicion  that  he  was  about 
to  act  independently  of  Washington,  and 
in  disobedience  to  his  orders.  Here  it 
is: — 

"BASKING  RIDGE,  December  13,  1776. 

"  MY  DEAR  GATES  :  The  ingenious  ma 
noeuvre  of  Fort  Washington  has  unhinged 
the  goodly  fabric  we  had  been  building. 

There  never  was  so  d d  a  stroke.    En- 

tre  nous,  a  certain  great  man  is  most  dam 
nably  deficient.  He  has  thrown  me  into 
a  situation  where  I  have  my  choice  of 
difficulties :  if  I  stay  in  this  province,  I 
risk  myself  and  army;  and,  if  I  do  not 
stay,  the  province  is  lost  for  ever.  I  have 
neither  guides,  cavalry,  medicines,  mon 
ey,  shoes,  or  stockings.  I  must  act  with 
the  greatest  circumspection.  Tories  are 
in  my  front,  rear,  and  on  my  flanks ;  the 
mass  of  the  people  is  strangely  contami 
nated  ;  in  short,  unless  something,  which 
I  do  not  expect,  turns  up,  we  are  lost: 
our  counsels  have  been  weak  to  the  last 
degree.  As  to  what  relates  to  yourself, 
if  you  think  you  can  be  in  time  to  aid  the 
general,  I  would  have  you  by  all  means 
go ;  you  will  at  least  save  your  army.  It 
is  said  that  the  whigs  are  determined  to 
set  fire  to  Philadelphia :  if  they  strike  this 
decisive  stroke,  the  day  will  be  our  own ; 
but  unless  it  is  done,  all  chance  of  liberty 
in  any  part  of  the  globe  is  for  ever  van 
ished.  Adieu,  my  dear  friend  !  God  bless 


you 


"  CHARLES  LEE." 


General  Lee's  capture  was  suspected 
by  many  at  the  time  to  have  been  made 
by  collusion  with  the  enemy.  The  letter 
just  read,  however,  proves  that  the  senti 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          GENERAL  GATES  AND  HIS  JEWISH  HOST. 


413 


ment  at  least  of  that  eccentric  command 
er  was  at  the  last  moment  true  to  liber 
ty  ;  and  his  rude  treatment  by  his  British 
captors  is  unquestionable  evidence  that 
Lee  was  not  considered  by  them  as  their 
friend.  They  exulted  greatly,  however, 
in  his  capture,  declaring, "  We  have  taken 
the  American  palladium !"  Some  of  the 
Americans  thought  no  less,  and  seemed 
to  imagine  that,  with  the  loss  of  Lee,  had 
passed  away  all  hopes  of  the  salvation  of 
the  country.  Washington  spoke  calmly 
of  the  event  thus,  in  a  letter  to  his  broth 
er  Augustine :  "  Before  you  receive  this 
letter,  you  will  undoubtedly  have  heard 
of  the  captivity  of  General  Lee.  This  is 
an  additional  misfortune,  and  the  more 
vexatious,  as  it  was  by  his  own  folly  and 
imprudence,  and  without  a  view  to  effect 
any  good,  that  he  was  taken." 

Let  us,  however,  return  to  Major  Wil 
kinson,  and  learn  from  his  own  account 
how  he  escaped  from  the  dilemma  in 
which  he  found  himself  on  the  capture 
of  Lee.  "So  soon,"  says  Wilkinson,  "as 
Lieutenant- Colonel  Harcourt  retreated 
with  his  prize,  I  repaired  to  the  stable, 
mounted  the  first  horse  I  could  find,  and 
rode  full  speed  to  General  Sullivan,  whom 
I  found  under  march  toward  Pluckimen. 
I  had  not  examined  General  Lee's  letter, 
but  believing  a  knowledge  of  the  con 
tents  might  be  useful  to  General  Sullivan, 
who  succeeded  him  in  command,!  handed 
it  to  him,  who,  after  the  perusal,  returned 
t  with  his  thanks,  and  advised  me  to  re 
join  General  Gates  without  delay,  which 
I  did  the  next  morning  at  Sussex  court 
house,  whither  he  had  led  the  troops  from 
Van  Kempt's." 


Gates  seems  to  have  been  greatly  af 
fected  by  the  capture  of  his  old  comrade 
and  friend,  and  no  doubt  sympathized 
fully  with  the  views  expressed  in  Lee's 
letter.  Immediately  after  Wilkinson's  ar 
rival,  the  troops  were  put  in  motion. 
Brigadier-General  Arnold  led  them  di 
rectly  to  Easton,  in  Pennsylvania.  Gates 
and  his  suite,  with  a  light-guard  of  horse, 
took  a  more  circuitous  route,  and,  having 
reached  the  Delaware  river  some  distance 
above  Easton, in  the  night,  lodged  at  "one 
Levy's."  Gates  had  a  predilection  for  his 
host,  for  he  said  that  the  Jews  were  whigs. 
Levy,  however,  in  the  course  of  the  first 
interview,  let  drop  certain  remarks  "  a 
little  mysterious,"  which  made  his  guests 
somewhat  suspicious  of  their  host's  patri 
otism.  Gates  accordingly  desired  those 
who  accompanied  him  to  conceal  his  name 
and  rank,  as  well  as  those  of  Colonel  John 
Trumbull,  then  adjutant-general,  and  at 
terward  the  patriotic  panel-painter.  The 
general  presented  himself  as  "  Captain 
Smith,  of  Berkeley,  Virginia."  Levy's 
sharp  eyes  seemed  to  recognise  an  old  ac 
quaintance  in  Trumbull,  and  he  observed 
that  "  he  thought  he  had  seen  the  colonel 
in  Connecticut."  General  Gates,  however, 
quickly  answered,  "  No !  he  is  a  neigh 
bor's  son  in  Berkeley."  The  scrutinizing 
observation  of  Levy  so  alarmed  his  guests, 
that  it  was  thought  more  prudent  to  short 
en  their  stay ;  and  accordingly  the  gen 
eral,  although  the  night  was  very  inclem 
ent,  ordered  the  horses  to  be  saddled, 
"  and,"  says  Wilkinson,  "  we  made  a  per 
ilous  passage  of  the  river,  through  float 
ing  ice,  and  marched  until  midnight,  be 
fore  we  lay  down,  in  a  dirty  store-room, 


414 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|  PART    II. 


Dec.  16. 


which  almost  suffocated  me."  The  next 
morning  they  reached  Nazareth  in  good 
time,  and  then  pushed  on  for  Bethlehem, 
where  they  overtook  Arnold  with  the 
troops  from  the  North,  and  Lee's  army, 
with  General  Sullivan,  who  had  changed 
his  route  the  moment  he  found  himself 
in  command,  and  hurried  forward  to  join 
Washington.  While  Gates  was  at  Beth 
lehem,  he  received  that  letter  from  Wash 
ington  which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  wrii> 
ten  on  the  14th  of  December,  and  con 
tained  an  account  of  the  "  melancholy  sit- 
nation"  of  affairs  in  New  Jersey.  The 
troops  were  now  hurried  on,  and  joined 
the  commander-in-chief  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Coryell's  ferry. 
Washington's  forces  were  considerably 
increased  by  the  addition  of  Sullivan's 
and  Gates's  divisions,  but  his  difficulties 
were  "  not  sensibly  diminished."  His  ar 
my  was  rapidly  dissolving,  and  in  ten  days 
there  would  be  (in  consequence  of  the 
expiration  of  the  time  of  service  of  many) 
only  fourteen  hundred  men  left, and  "mis 
erably  provided  in  all  things."  Washing 
ton  was  deeply  sensible  of  the  dangers  of 
the  country.  "  I  saw  him,"  says  Wilkin 
son,  "  in  that  gloomy  period,  dined  with 
him,  and  attentively  marked  his  aspect; 
always  grave  and  thoughtful,  he  appeared 
at  that  time  pensive  and  solemn  in  the 
extreme."  Perplexed  as  he  was,  however, 
Washington  did  not  despair.  To  his  broth 
er  he  writes,  "  Under  a  full  persuasion  of 
the  justice  of  our  cause,  I  can  not  enter 
tain  an  idea  that  it  will  finally  sink,  though 
it  may  remain  for  some  time  under  a 
cloud." 

Such  was  the  imminency  of  the  ap- 


Dec.  12. 


proach  of  the  British  to  Philadelphia,  that 
it  was  thought  advisable  by  Congress  on 
its  adjournment  to  choose  Balti 
more  as  the  next  place  of  meet 
ing.  Before  adjourning,  however,  it  was 
"resolved,  that,  until  Congress  shall  oth 
erwise  order,  General  Washington  be  pos 
sessed  of  full  power  to  order  and  direct 
all  things  relative  to  the  department  and 
to  the  operations  of  war."  This  was  a 
wide  extension  of  authority ;  but  Wash 
ington,  always  so  scrupulous  in  the  exer 
cise  of  his  delegated  powers,  does  not  as 
sume  it  without  an  explanation,  which 
seems  almost  like  an  apology  to  the  state. 
He  orders  three  battalions  of  artillery  to 
be  recruited.  He  promises  officers  and 
men  that  their  pay  shall  be  increased 
twenty-five  per  cent.  This  was  obviously 
not  transcending  the  authority  conferred 
upon  him  by  the  resolution  of  Congress, 
but  Washington  fears  that  what  he  has 
done  may  appear  "  premature  and  unwar 
rantable."  In  the  same  letter  to 
Congress,  however,  he  can  not 
refrain  ( urged  as  he  is  by  the  emergencies 
of  his  position)  from  declaring  the  neces 
sity  of  acting  occasionally  on  his  own  re 
sponsibility.  If,  in  the  short  interval  in 
which  great  and  arduous  preparations 
must  be  made  against  the  enemy,  "  every 
matter  that  in  its  nature  is  self-evident 
is  to  be  referred  to  Congress,  at  the  dis 
tance  of  a  hundred  and  thirty  or  forty 
miles,  so  much  time  must  elapse,"  he  says, 

"  as  to  defeat  the  end  in  view 

"  It  may  be  said,"  continues  the  scrupu 
lous  and  disinterested  Washington,  "  that 
this  is  an  application  for  powers  that  are 
too  dangerous  to  be  intrusted.  I  can 


Dec.  20. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         WASHINGTON  ADVOCATES  A  STANDING  ARMY. 


415 


only  add  that  desperate  diseases  require 
desperate  remedies ;  and  I  with  truth  de 
clare  that  I  have  no  lust  after  power,  but 
I  wish  with  as  much  fervency  as  any  man 
upon  this  wide-extended  continent  for  an 
opportunity  of  turning  the  sword  into  the 
ploughshare.  But  my  feelings,  as  an  offi 
cer  and  a  man,  have  been  such  as  to  force 
me  to  say  that  no  person  ever  had  a  great 
er  choice  of  difficulties  to  contend  with 
than  I  have.  It  is  needless  to  add  that 
short  enlistments,  and  a  mistaken  depend 
ence  upon  militia,  have  been  the  origin 
of  all  our  misfortunes,  and  the  great  ac 
cumulation  of  our  debt.  We  find,  sir,  that 
the  enemy  are  daily  gathering  strength 
from  the  disaffected.  This  strength,  like 
a  snowball  by  rolling,  will  increase,  unless 
some  means  can  be  devised  to  check 
effectually  the  progress  of  the  enemy's 
arms.  Militia  may  possibly  do  it  for  a 
little  while  ;  but  in  a  little  while  also,  and 
the  militia  of  those  states,  which  have 
been  frequently  called  upon,  will  not  turn 
out  at  all ;  or,  if  they  do,  it  will  be  with 
so  much  reluctance  and  sloth  as  to  amount 
to  the  same  thing.  Instance  New  Jersey  ! 
Witness  Pennsylvania !  Could  anything 
but  the  river  Delaware  have  saved  Phila 
delphia  ?" 

With  no  confidence  in  a  militia,  "who 
come  in  you  can  not  tell  how,  go  you  can 
not  tell  when,  and  act  you  can  not  tell 
where,  consume  your  provisions,  exhaust 
your  stores,  and  leave  you  at  last  at  a 
critical  moment,"  Washington  ventures  to 
advise  the  establishment  of"  a  large  stand 
ing  army  sufficient  of  itself  to  oppose  the 
enemy."  Not  less  than  a  hundred  and 
ten  battalions,  he  declares,  should  at  once 


be  raised,  as  the  eighty-eight  proposed  by 
Congress  are  by  no  means  equal  to  the 
opposition  that  must  be  made.  "It  is 
not  a  time,"  says  he,  "  to  stand  upon  ex 
pense."  Emboldened  by  the  necessities 
of  the  occasion,  Washington  declares  he 
shall  encourage  those  officers  who  offer  to 
raise  men  upon  continental  pay  and  es 
tablishment,  and  "regiment  them  when 
they  have  done  it."  His  scrupulous  sense 
of  his  responsibility  to  the  state,  however, 
here  again  shows  itself  in  these  remark 
able  words  :  "  If  Congress  disapprove  of 
this  proceeding,  they  will  please  to  signi 
fy  it,  as  I  mean  it  for  the  best.  It  may 
be  thought  I  am  going  a  good  deal  out 
of  the  line  of  my  duty,  to  adopt  these 
measures,  or  to  advise  thus  freely.  A 
character  to  lose,  an  estate  to  forfeit,  the 
inestimable  blessings  of  liberty  at  stake, 
and  a  life  devoted,  must  be  my  excuse." 

"What  a  wretched  spectacle  did  our 
troops  present  in  retreating  through  the 
Jerseys !"  exclaims  an  American  officer, 
"without  cavalry;  but  partially  provided 
with  artillery ;  deficient  in  transport  foi 
the  little  we  had  to  carry ;  without  tents 
tools,  or  camp-equipage ;  without  maga 
zines  of  any  kind ;  half  clothed ;  badly 
armed ;  debilitated  by  disease,  disheart 
ened  by  misfortunes,  and  worn  out  with 
fatigues."  The  very  steps  of  the  soldiers 
during  that  toilsome  retreat  could  be 
traced  upon  the  snow  by  stains  of  the 
blood  which  had  dropped  from  their  na 
ked  feet ! 

Crippled  and  exhausted  as  the  army 
was,  Washington  could  not  make  a  show 
of  offensive  operations,  and  resorted  to 
the  only  means  in  his  power  of  saving 


416 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


Philadelphia,  which  Congress  had  resolved 
should  be  defended  to  the  last  extremity. 
He  did  what  he  could  to  prevent  the  Brit 
ish  from  crossing  the  Delaware.  For  thir 
ty  miles  along  the  western  bank  of  that 
river  (from  Dunk's  ferry,  below  Trenton, 
to  Cory  ell's  ferry  above),  at  the  ferries 
and  fords,  he  distributed  his  force  into 
patrolling-parties  and  stationary  guards. 
The  craft  on  the  Delaware  were  secured, 
and  the  larger  vessels  formed  into  a  chain 
of  guard-ships.  With  the  advantage  of 
after-sight,  which  is  the  privilege  of  his 
torians,  we  now  discover  that  the  enemy's 
design  was  not  to  march  upon  Philadel 
phia.  General  Lee's  conjecture  was  cor 
rect.  Sir  William  Howe  did  not  intend 
to  cross  the  Delaware  during  that  win 
ter's  campaign.  The  British  general,  as 
appears  from  his  despatch,  was  satisfied 
with  establishing  himself  in  New  Jersey, 
and  thus  securing  shelter,  forage,  and  pro 
visions,  for  his  army,  till  the  spring  should 
open,  and  reinforcements  arrive  for  car 
rying  out  other  and  more  extensive  de 
signs. 

Washington's  army,  reinforced  by  the 
division  of  Lee,  the  regiments  from  the 
northern  army  under  Gates,  and  the  mi 
litia  from  Pennsylvania,  drawn  out  by  the 
spirited  exertions  of  the  ever-active  Mif- 
flin,  now  numbered  nearly  six  thousand 

effective  men.     With  this  addi- 
Dect  22i 

tion  to  his  force,  the  commander- 

in-chief  resolved  upon  commencing  offen 
sive  operations.  How  far  he  was  actu 
ated  in  this  determination  by  a  letter  re 
ceived  from  the  adjutant-general,  Colonel 
Reed,  it  is  difficult  to  decide.  It  detracts 
nothing  from  the  character  of  Washington 


to  concede  that  he  acted  from  the  sug 
gestions  of  those  in  whose  capacity  and 
character  he  trusted.  One  of  the  most 
striking  characteristics  of  the  great  man 
was  the  readiness  with  which  he  adopted 
any  measure,  come  from  what  source  it 
might,  which  be  believed  to  be  conducive 
to  the  welfare  of  the  great  cause  in.which 
he  was  engaged.  No  obstinate  self-esteem 
ever  interrupted  the  course  of  his  gener 
ous  love  of  country. 

Reed  was  at  the  time  with  Colonel  Cad- 
wallader  and  a  body  of  Pennsylvania  mi 
litia,  stationed  at  Bristol,  when 

Dec*  22« 

he  wrote  this  letter  to  Washing 
ton  :  "  If  we  could  possess  ourselves  again 
of  New  Jersey,  or  any  considerable  part, 
the  effect  would  be  greater  than  if  we 
had  not  left  it.  Allow  me  to  hope  that 
you  will  consult  your  own  good  judg 
ment  and  spirit,  and  let  not  the  goodness 
of  your  heart  subject  you  to  the  influence 
of  the  opinions  of  men  in  every  respect 
your  inferiors.  Something  must  be  at 
tempted  before  the  sixty  days  expire 
which  the  commissioners  have  allowed ; 
for,  however  many  may  affect  to  despise 
it,  it  is  evident  a  very  serious  attention 
is  paid  to  it :  and  I  am  confident  that,  un 
less  some  more  favorable  appearance  at 
tends  our  arms  and  cause  before  that 
time,  a  very  great  number  of  the  militia- 
officers  here  will  follow  the  example  of 
Jersey,  and  take  benefit  from  it.  Our 
cause  is  desperate  and  hopeless  if  we  do 
not  strike  some  stroke.  Our  affairs  are 
hastening  apace  to  ruin,  if  we  do  not  re 
trieve  them  by  some  happy  event.  De 
lay  with  us  is  near  equal  to  a  total  de 
feat.  We  must  not  suffer  ourselves  to 


REVOLUTIONAKY.] 


GATES  "ON  HIS  WAY  TO  CONGRESS. 


417 


Dec.  23. 


be  lulled  into  security  and  inactivity,  be 
cause  the  enemy  does  not  cross  the  river. 
The  love  of  my  country,  a  wife  and  four 
children  in  the  enemy's  hands,  the  respect 
and  attachment  I  have  to  you,  the  ruin 
and  poverty  that  must  attend  me  and 
thousands  of  others,  will  plead  my  excuse 
for  so  much  freedom." 

Washington,  influenced  or  not  by  this 
outspoken  letter,  had  so  far  carried  out 
his  purpose  of  offensive  operations  as  to 
appoint  the  time  for  an  attack ;  for  he 
writes  to  Reed  that  "  Christmas- 
day,  at  night,  one  hour  before 
day,  is  the  time  fixed  upon  for  our  at 
tempt  at  Trenton.  For  Heaven's  sake, 
keep  this  to  yourself,  as  the  discovery  of 
it  may  prove  fatal  to  us — our  numbers, 
sorry  am  I  to  say,  being  less  than  I  had 
any  conception  of;  but  necessity,  dire  ne 
cessity,  will,  nay  must,  justify  an  attack. 
I  have  ordered  our  men  to  be  pro 
vided  with  three  days'  provisions,  ready 
cooked,  with  which  and  their  blankets 
they  are  to  march ;  for  if  we  are  success 
ful,  which  Heaven  grant,  and  the  circum 
stances  favor,  we  may  push  on." 

Washington  at  this  moment  naturally 
expected  the  cordial  co-operation  of  Gen 
eral  Gates,  but  that  officer  unfortunately 
was  "  unwell,  and  had  applied  for  leave 
to  go  to  Philadelphia."  He  was,  however, 
desired  by  his  superior,  "if  his  health 
would  permit  him,"  to  call  and  stay  two 
or  three  days  at  Bristol,  on  his  way,  to 
give  his  aid  in  settling  some  probable  dis 
putes  about  rank;  for  "the  colonels  of 
the  continental  regiments,"  says  Wash 
ington,  "  might  kick  up  some  dust  about 
command."  But  Gates  was  not  then  in 
53 


the  humor  to  co-operate  with  the  com- 
mander-in-chief.  He  had  probably  aims 
of  his  own,  which  he  was  more  anxious 
to  direct,  than  to  aid  in  furthering  those 
of  Washington  and  of  the  country.  Ma 
jor  Wilkinson  rode  with  Gates  to  Phila 
delphia.  They  set  out  together  on  the 
24th  of  December.  On  the  road  the  gen 
eral  appeared  much  depressed  in  mind, 
and  frequently  expressed  the  opinion  that 
while  General  Washington  was  watching 
the  enemy  above  Trenton,  they  would 
privately  construct  batteaux,  cross  the 
Delaware  in  his  rear,  and  take  possession 
of  Philadelphia,  before  he  was  aware  of 
the  movement ;  and  that,  instead  of  vain 
ly  attempting  to  stop  Sir  William  Howe 
at  the  Delaware,  General  Washington 
ought  to  retire  to  the  south  of  the  Sus- 
quehanna  river,  and  there  form  an  army 
Gates,  moreover,  declared  that  it  was  his 
intention  to  proceed  to  Baltimore,  and 
there  lay  this  plan  before  Congress.  Wil 
kinson  was  entreated  to  accompany  him, 
but  refused.  At  night,  Gates  wrote  a  let 
ter  to  Washington,  with  which  he  charged 
Wilkinson,  who  then  took  leave  of  him, 
and  prepared  to  return  to  the  army. 

"I  was  on  horseback  early  the  next 
morning  (Christmas-day),"  says  Wilkin 
son,  "  and  reached  Newtown  about  two 
o'clock.  On  my  arrival  there  I  discov 
ered,  to  my  surprise,  that  General  Wash 
ington  had  transferred  his  quarters  to 
that  place,  and  had  himself  marched  with 
the  troops  in  that  neighborhood.  From 
Colonel  Harrison,  the  general's  secretary, 
who  had  been  left  in  charge  of  his  papers, 
I  received  the  necessary  directions,  and 
proceeded  in  quest  of  the  troops,  whose 


418 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


route  was  easily  traced,  as  there  was  a 
little  snow  on  the  ground,  which  was 
tinged  here  and  there  with  blood,  from 
the  feet  of  the  men  who  wore  broken 
shoes. 

"  I  got  up  with  my  brigade  near  M'Con- 
key's  ferry  about  dusk  and,  inquiring  for 
the  commander-in-chief,  was  directed  to 
his  quarters.  T  found  him  alone,  with  his 
whip  in  his  t  *-ad,  prepared  to  mount  his 
horse,  which  I  perceived  as  I  entered. 
When  I  presented  the  letter  of  General 
Gates  to  him,  before  receiving  it,  he  ex 
claimed,  with  solemnity — 

" '  What  a  time  is  this  to  hand  me  let 
ters!' 


"  I  answered  that  I  had  been  charged 
with  it  by  General  Gates. 

« ( By  General  Gates !    Where  is  he  ?' 

" 1 1  left  him  this  morning  in  Philadel 
phia.' 

" '  What  was  he  doing  there  ?' 

"  '  I  understood  him  that  he  was  on  his 
way  to  Congress.' 

"Washington  then  earnestly  repeat 
ed - 

"  '  On  his  way  to  Congress !  on  his  way 
to  Congress!'"  and  broke  the  seal ;  where 
upon  Wilkinson  made  his  bow,  took  his 
leave,  and,  joining  his  brigade,  prepared 
to  bear  his  part  in  the  eventful  enterprise 
of  that  stormy  Christmas-night. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

The  British  Troops  in  New  Jersey. — Their  Confidence  in  Themselves,  and  Contempt  of  their  Enemy.— Colonel  Rahl  at 
Tronton. — His  Military  Character. — Daring  and  reckless. — A  Warning  unheeded. — A  Christmas-Dinner. — A  Hand  at 
Cards. — Another  Warning  disregarded. — The  Approach  of  Washington. — Disposition  of  his  Force. — Crossing  of  the 
Delaware. — The  Storm. — Squibbing. — The  Advance  and  Charge. — The  Attack  on  the  Hessians  at  Princeton. — Per 
sonal  Exposure  of  Washington. — The  Assault  led  by  Stark. — The  Enemy  driven  from  the  Town. — The  Brave  Rahl. 
— He  rallies  and  returns  to  the  Charge. — He  falls. — Flight  of  his  Hessians. — They  are  overtaken  and  surrounded. — 
Their  Surrender. — The  Loss  on  Both  Sides. — The  March  of  Cadwallader. — Its  Delays  and  Failure. — Reinforcement 
from  Putnam  at  Philadelphia. — Count  Donop  left  in  the  Lurch. — The  Dyinf  ^iahJ  visited  and  consoled  by  Washing 
ton. — No  Pursuit. — Washington  recrosses  the  Delaware. 


THE  British  troops  in  New  Jersey 
wrere  stretched  in  a  line  of  canton 
ments  across  from  Brunswick  to  the  river 
Delaware,  and  along  its  banks  to  Burling 
ton.  The  main  body  was  at  Brunswick, 
and  the  rest  were  so  widely  scattered  as 
to  leave  but  small  forces  at  the  various 
other  posts.  Confident  in  the  possession 
of  the  country,  and  despising  the  meager 
and  ill-conditioned  army  of  Washington, 
Lord  Corn  wall  is  believed  himself  so  se 


cure,  that  ne  was  no  longer  vigilant.  He 
himself,  in  fact,  had  requested  leave  of 
absence,  and  had  gone  to  New  York,  to 
prepare  to  embark  for  England.  His 
sense  of  security  was  shared  by  the  offi 
cers  and  the  army  which  he  left  behind, 
and  none  doubted  their  immunity  from 
attack. 

Trenton  was  held  by  Colonel  Rahl  with 
three  regiments  of  Hessians  (those  of  An- 
spach,  Knyphausen,  and  Rahl),  number 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COLONEL  RAHL  AND  HIS  CHRISTMAS-DINNER. 


419 


ing  fifteen  hundred  men,  and  a  troop  of 
British  light-horse.  Rahl  was  a  brave  and 
active  executive  officer,  but  careless  of 
danger  even  to  recklessness.  He  was  a 
bustling  disciplinarian,  and  was  ever  har 
assing  his  men  by  his  minute  attention 
to  the  formalities  of  dress  and  parade. 
He  was,  however,  no  tactician,  and  could 
neither  foresee  danger  nor  provide  against 
it.  He  had,  moreover,  a  great  contempt 
for  his  enemy  ;  and  when  it  was  suggest 
ed  that  an  assault  was  possible,  and  that 
he  should  fortify  his  position,  he  made  a 
jest  of  it,  exclaiming,  "  Works  ! — pooh  ! 
pooh!  An  assault  by  the  rebels?  Let 
them  come  :  we'll  at  them  with  the  bay 
onet  !"*  He  had  given  proofs  of  his  dash 
ing  qualities  as  a  spirited  officer  in  the 
attack  on  the  lines  at  Fort  Washington, 
and  was  placed  in  command  at  Trenton 
as  a  compliment  to  his  bravery.  Notwith 
standing  his  general  want  of  forecaste,  he 
is  said  to  have  been  aroused  to  a  tempo 
rary  apprehension  for  the  security  of  his 
frontier  post,  and  to  have  applied  for  a 
reinforcement  from  General  Grant,  who 
replied  :  "  Tell  the  colonel  he  is  very  safe. 
I  will  undertake  to  keep  the  peace  in  New 
Jersey  with  a  corporal's  guard."  He  was 
soon  lulled  into  his  habitual  confidence, 
which  remained  undisturbed,  although  he 
was  warned  that  the  Americans  threat 
ened  an  attack. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Christmas-day  the 
whole  garrison  was  suddenly  aroused  to 
arms  by  a  firing  at  one  of  the  outposts. 
Colonel  Rahl  hastened  to  the  point,  and 
found  that  a  picket-guard  had  been  fired 
upon,  and  six  men  wounded.  The  ene- 

*  Irving. 


my,  however,  had  retired.  So  the  colonel, 
thinking  all  was  over,  hurried  back  to  his 
dinner  and  his  bottle,  to  which  he  was  de 
votedly  attached.  It  was  Christmas,  and 
of  course  a  high  festival  with  the  German 
soldiers.  Rahl  himself  was  a  guest  on  the 
occasion,  at  the  house  of  one  Abraham 
Hunt,*  who  was  a  trader,  and  made  no 
nice  distinctions  between  whigs  and  to- 
ries,  provided  they  were  his  customers. 
The  Christmas-dinner  was  eaten,  the  wine 
circulated  freely,  and  finally  cards  were 
proposed.  The  convivial  colonel  was  as 
fond  of  play  as  of  his  bottle,  and  soon  be 
came  deeply  absorbed  in  both.  Thus  the 
afternoon  and  night  passed  gayly.  "  Just 
at  dawn  a  messenger  came  in  haste  with 
a  note  to  Colonel  Rahl,  sent  by  a  tory  on 
the  Pennington  road,  who  had  discovered 
the  approach  of  the  Americans."  There 
was  a  negro-servant  at  the  door,  and  he 
refused  admittance  to  the  messenger,  tel 
ling  him  that  "  the  gemihen  can't  be  dis 
turbed."  The  bearer  of  the  note,  howev 
er,  aware  of  its  pressing  importance,  in 
sisted  upon  the  negro  carrying  it  in.  He 
did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  handed  it  to 
Rahl.  The  hilarious  colonel  carelessly 
thrust  the  note  into  his  pocket  without 
reading  it,  and  continued  his  game.  The 
men,  like  their  master,  were  revelling, 
and  forgetting  all  sense  of  danger  and 
duty  in  drunken  frolic. 

Washington  had  chosen  this  night  of 
Christmas  for  his  attack  with  the  expec 
tation  that  his  Hessian  enemy,  thus  yield 
ing  to  the  festivities  of  the  day,  would  be 
more  exposed  to  a  surprise.  His  plan 
was,  to  cross  the  Delaware  with  three  di- 

*  Lossin<r. 


420 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u. 


Dec,  25, 


visions  of  his  army.  One,  under  Cadwal- 
lader  and  Reed,  was  to  pass  the  river  at 
Bristol ;  another,  under  Evving,  at  the  fer 
ry  a  little  below  Trenton ;  and  the  main 
body,  consisting  of  twenty-five  hundred 
men,  Washington  proposed  to  lead  him 
self  (in  conjunction  with  Sullivan,  Stir 
ling,  Greene,  and  Colonel  Knox  of  the 
artillery)  across  M'Conkey's  ferry,  nine 
miles  above  Trenton.  The  British  posts 
at  Mount  Holly,  Burlington,  Black  Horse, 
and  Bordentown,  were  the  points  of  at 
tack  set  down  for  the  first  two  divisions. 
Trenton  itself  was  reserved  for  the  com- 
mander-in-chief 

Boats  having  been  got  in  readiness, 
Washington  ordered  the  troops  to  be  pa 
raded  early  in  the  evening  "back 
of  M'Conkey's  ferry,"  and  began 
to  embark  them  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark. 
He  hoped  to  be  able  to  throw  them  all 
over,  with  the  artillery,  by  midnight,  and 
thus  arrive  at  Trenton  by  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  distance  from  the  point 
of  landing  on  the  opposite  side  being 
about  nine  miles.  The  darkness  of  the 
night,  however ;  the  frost,  by  which  ice 
was  rapidly  made ;  the  severity  of  the 
cold,  so  great  that  two  or  three  men  froze 
to  death;  and  the  force  of  the  current, 
rendered  still  more  violent  by  a  high 
wind,  impeded  the  passage  of  the  boats 
so  much,  that  it  was  three  o'clock  before 
all  the  artillery  could  be  got  over,  and 
nearly  four  when  the  troops  took  up  their 
line  of  march.  Washington,  thus  delayed, 
despaired  of  surprising  the  town,  as  he 
knew  that  he  could  not  reach  it  before 
the  day  had  fairly  broken.  He  deter- 

*/  */ 

mined,  nevertheless,  to  push  on,  as  he 


could  not  retire  without  being  discovered, 
and  harassed  while  recrossing  the  river. 

On  landing,  Washington  formed  his  de 
tachment  in  two  divisions.  One,  under 
the  command  of  Sullivan,  was  ordered  to 
march  by  the  lower  or  river  road,  and 
enter  Trenton  to  the  south.  The  other, 
Washington  was  to  lead  himself  by  a  cir 
cuitous  route  to  the  Pennington  road,  and 
thus  into  the  town  at  the  north.  In  or 
der  that  the  two  divisions  might  be  ready 
to  attack  simultaneously,  the  general-in- 
chief,  as  he  had  a  circuit  to  make,  ordered 
Sullivan  to  halt  for  a  few  minutes  at  a 
cross-road,  to  give  him  time  to  come  up. 
The  final  order  being  issued,  that  the 
troops,  having  first  forced  the  outguards, 
should  push  directly  into  the  town,  and 
thus  charge  the  enemy  before  they  had 
time  to  form,  each  division  took  up  its 
march. 

When  the  division  on  the  lower  road 
halted,  in  accordance  with  Washington's 
order,  it  was  discovered  that  the  snow 
storm  which  was  beating  violently  in  the 
soldiers'  faces,  had  so  wetted  the  best- 
secured  arms,  that  they  were  not  in  firing 
condition.  The  fact  was  announced  to 
Sullivan.  He  cast  a  look  at  General  St. 
Clair,  who  was  at  his  side,  and  observed, 
"  What  is  to  be  done  ?" — "  You  have  noth 
ing  for  it  but  to  push  on  and  charge,"  was 
St.  Glair's  immediate  answer.  The  march 
was  then  continued,  the  troops  being  or 
dered  to  clear  their  muskets  in  the  best 
manner  they  could  as  they  moved  along, 
and  a  great  deal  of  "  squibbing"  ensued. 
In  the  meantime  an  officer  was  sent'  to 
Washington,  to  inform  him  of  the  condi 
tion  of  the  arms.  He  returned  for  answer 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  TRENTON. 


421 


that   the   soldiers   "must   advance   and 
charge." 

It  was  now  broad  day,  and  both  divis 
ions  having  reached  the  outskirts  of  the 
town  at  the  same  moment,  their  fires 
were  heard  by  each  other,  as  they  began 
their  simultaneous  attacks  upon  the  ene 
my's  pickets.  As  his  column  approached 
the  town,  Washington  kept  near  the  front, 
and,  coining  up  with  a  man  chopping 
wood  by  the  roadside,  he  asked,  "Which 
way  is  the  Hessian  picket?" — "I  don't 
know,"  replied  the  fellow,  with  an  air  and 
tone  as  if  he  were  concealing  the  truth. 
Captain  Forrest,  who  was  in  command  of 
the  artillery,  was  on  horseback  at  the  side 
of  the  commander-in-chief,  and,  observing 
the  reluctance  of  the  man,  said,  "You 
may  speak,  for  that  is  General  Washing 
ton."  The  man  was  astonished  at  the 
discovery,  and  raising  his  hands  to  heav 
en,  exclaimed,  addressing  the  general : 
"God  bless  and  prosper  you,  sir!  —  the 
picket  is  in  that  house,  and  the  sentry 
stands  near  that  tree."  Captain  Wash 
ington  was  immediately  ordered  to  dis 
lodge  it,  which  he  did  with  great  prompts 
ness.  The  artillery  was  now  unlimbered, 
and  the  column  proceeded.  As  Forrest 
opened  his  battery,  Washington  kept  on 
the  left,  and,  advancing  with  it,  directed 
the  fire.  He  was  thus  so  much  exposed, 
that  the  officers  repeatedly  entreated  him 
to  fall  back ;  but  he  continued  on,  not 
withstanding  their  solicitude  for  his  safe- 

fcy- 

Colonel  Stark  commanded  the  advance- 
guard  of  Sullivan's  division,  and  made 
quick  work  with  the  picket  on  his  side. 
Having  forced  this,  he  pressed  on  into 


the  town,  dealing  "  death  wherever  he 
found  resistance,  and  breaking  down  all 
opposition  before  him."  The  whole  col 
umn  followed  close  at  the  heels  of  the 
dauntless  Stark.  The  enemy  made  a  mo 
mentary  show  of  resistance  by  a  wild  and 
aimless  fire  of  musketry  from  the  win 
dows  of  the  houses  in  which  they  were 
quartered,  but  were  soon  compelled  to 
abandon  their  cover  as  the  Americans  ad 
vanced.  A  troop  of  British  dragoons, 
with  about  five  hundred  infantry,  took  to 
flight  across  the  Assumpink,  and  joined 
Count  Donop  at  Bordentown. 

Colonel  Rahl  seemed  to  have  lost  all 
but  his  courage  in  the  confusion  of  the 
surprise.  He  was  riding  wildly  about  on 
his  horse,  endeavoring  to  rally  his  men. 
and  crying, "  Forward !  march  !  advance  ! 
advance  !"  His  troops,  thus  encouraged 
by  the  presence  of  their  comrnander,made 
an  attempt  to  form  in  the  main  street. 
Captain  Forrest,  however,  opened  his  bat 
tery  (with  General  Washington  at  his 
side,  directing  the  fire)  at  the  head  of 
King  street,  and  greatly  confused  the 
forming  battalions ;  while  Captain  Wil 
liam  Washington,  who,  seconded  by  Lieu 
tenant  James  Monroe  (afterward  presi 
dent),  led  the  advance-guard  of  General 
Washington's  column, perceiving  that  the 
Hessians  were  endeavoring  to  form  a  bat 
tery  in  the  street,  rushed  forward,  drove 
the  artillerists  from  their  guns,  and  took 
two  pieces  just  as  they  were  about  being 
fired.  Captain  Washington  and  Lieuten 
ant  Monroe  were  both  wounded  in  this 
perilous  act,  the  former  in  his  wrist  and 
the  latter  in  the  fleshy  part  of  his  shoul 
der.  This  gallant  conduct  of  the  advance- 


422 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


guard  was  of  great  service ;  for,  if  the  en 
emy  had  been  able  to  serve  their  artillery 
in  the  narrow  street,  the  Americans  might 
have  been  checked. 

Colonel  Rahl  succeeded,  by  a  great  ef 
fort,  in  withdrawing  his  troops  from  the 
town  into  a  field  near  by.  Here  he  formed 
his  grenadiers,  and,  instead  of  retreating, 
as  prudence  would  have  suggested,  he 
recklessly  led  them  on  against  the  town, 
now  filled  by  the  triumphant  soldiers  of 
his  enemy.  He  madly  pushed  on,  right 
in  the  teeth  of  the  fire  of  the  artillery 
sweeping  the  streets,  and  the  brisk  mus 
ketry  of  the  American  riflemen  taking 
deliberate  and  sure  aim  from  the  doors 
and  windows  of  the  houses.  At  the  first 
onset,  the  gallant  Rahl  was  shot  from  his 
horse.  His  men,  seeing  their  leader  fall, 
turned  by  their  right  along  the  river  As- 
sumpink,  which  runs  through  the  town, 
and  endeavored  to  escape  to  Princeton. 
General  Washington,  observing  their  pur 
pose,  instantly  threw  Colonel  Hand  with 
his  riflemen  in  their  way,  and  ordered  the 
Virginia  troops  Tinder  Colonels  Scott  and 
Lawson  to  take  them  on  their  left.  Thus 
hemmed  in  on  every  side,  the  Hessians 
halted  and  formed  in  order  of  battle.  At 
this  moment  General  Washington  ordered 
the  guns  of  Forrest's  battery  to  be  turned 
on  them, "  with  a  discharge  of  canister." 
— "  Sir,  iliey  have  struck !"  was  Forrest's  an 
swer  to  the  command.  "  Struck  !"  replied 
the  general.  "  Yes,"  said  Forrest,  "  their 
colors  are  doivn." — "  So  they  are,"  observed 
Washington,  and,  putting  spurs  to  his 
horse,  he  galloped  toward  them,  followed 
by  Forrest  and  his  officers.  The  enemy 
having  ordered  their  arms,  Washington 


summoned  them  to  surrender,  when  they 
at  once  agreed  to  do  so  at  discretion. 

The  wounded  Rahl  was  now  borne,  by 
a  file  of  sergeants,  to  present  his  sword 
to  General  Washington.  At  this  moment, 
Wilkinson  rode  up,  having  been  sent  for 
orders.  "  On  my  approach,"  says  he,  "  the 
commander-in-chief  took  me  by  the  hand 
and  observed,  '  Major  Wilkinson,  this  is  a 
glorious  day  for  our  country  !'  his  counte 
nance  beaming  with  complacency ;  while 
the  unfortunate  Rahl,  who  the  day  before 
would  not  have  changed  fortunes  with 
him,  now  pale,  bleeding,  and  covered  with 
blood,  in  broken  accents  seemed  to  im 
plore  those  attentions  which  the  victor 
was  well  disposed  to  bestow  on  him." 

The  whole  loss  of  the  Americans  was 
trifling,  amounting  in  all  to  lour  men 
wounded,  two  killed,  and  two  frozen  to 
death.  The  enemy  had  their  command 
er,  six  officers,  and  four  men,  killed ;  and 
surrendered  to  Washington  twenty-three 
officers,  nearly  one  thousand  non-commis 
sioned  officers  and  privates,  four  stand 
of  colors,  twelve  -Irums,  six  brass  field- 
pieces,  and  a  thousand  stand  of  arms  and 
accoutrements.  The  triumph  was  great, 
and  it  might  have  been  much  greater  had 
Washington's  plan  been  carried  out  in  all 
its  details.  But  General  Cadwallader,  who 
was  to  have  crossed  the  Delaware  at  Bris 
tol,  and  Ewing  at  Trenton  ferry,  had  both 
failed  him.  General  Putnam,  too,  who 
had  been  urged  to  lend  his  aid  in  the  af 
fair,  had  been  prevented  from  carrying 
out  fully  the  orders  of  Washington. 

Ewing  did  everything  in  his  power  to 
cross ;  but  the  quantity  of  ice  in  the  river 
was  so  great,  that  he  could  not  possibly 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ATTEMPTS  TO  CROSS  THE  DELAWARE. 


423 


o-et  over.    Cadwallader  was  also  hindered 

D 

by  the  same  difficulty  in  crossing  above 
Bristol.  He  then  made  an  attempt  at 
Dunk's  ferry,  below.  As  soon  as  it  was 
dark,  he  sent  down  all  the  boats  that  he 
could,  muster,  and  marched  down  about 
eight  o'clock.  A  few  men  were  first  em 
barked,  to  line  the  river,  and  prevent  any 
persons  from  escaping  to  give  intelligence 
to  the  enemy ;  next  followed  a  part  of 
the  first  battalion  of  militia,  and  then  two 
fieldpieces,  with  which  Cadwallader  him 
self  crossed,  in  order  to  see  if  it  was  prac 
ticable  to  land  them.  Upon  reaching  the 
other  side,  and  finding,  in  consequence 
of  the  thickness  of  the  ice,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  get  the  guns  on  shore,  he 
called  together  his  field-officers,  and  con 
sulted  as  to  whether  it  would  be  proper 
to  march  without  the  artillery.  They  all 
agreed  that  it  would  not.  In  the  mean 
time,  another  battalion  of  troops  had  suc 
ceeded  in  crossing.  They  were,  however, 
all  taken  back  to  the  Pennsylvania  side  of 
the  Delaware,  where,  in  consequence  of 
the  ice  and  stormy  weather,  they  did  not 
arrive  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Cadwallader  then  marched  to  Bristol.  "I 
imagine,"  he  said,  in  writing  to  Washing 
ton,  and  giving  an  account  of  his  own  un 
successful  operations, "  the  badness  of  the 
night  must  have  prevented  you  from  pas 
sing  over  as  you  intended." 

General  Putnam  had  answered  Wash 
ington's  solicitation  for  aid  in  the  attack 
upon  Trenton,  by  a  statement  that  such 
was  the  insubordinate  and  defective  con 
dition  of  the  militia,  and  the  threatening 
aspect  of  affairs  (foreboding  an  insurrec 
tion)  in  Philadelphia,  that  it  was  impos 


sible  for  him  to  march  in  person,  or  be  of 
any  material  aid.  At  the  last  moment, 
however,  he  sent  off  Colonel  Griffin,  with 
a  meager  detaohment  of  Pennsylvania  mi 
litia.  This  officer  reached  the  Jerseys  in 
time,  but  being  indisposed  himself,  and 
his  troops  ill  conditioned,  he  declined  to 
join  in  the  attack,  and  wrote  to  Cadwal 
lader  at  Bristol,  that  he  thought  he  could 
be  of  more  service  by  diverting  Count 
Donop  at  Bordentown,and  thus  draw  him 
off  from  giving  his  aid  to  Colonel  Rahl  at 
Trenton.  Griffin  acted  accordingly.  He 
marched  toward  Donop's  camp  sufficient 
ly  near  to  be  observed,  and  to  provoke 
the  enemy  to  come  out.  He  then  retired 
leisurely,  skirmishing  here  and  there,  fol 
lowed  by  a  large  body  of  the  Hessians, 
until  they  reached  Mount  Holly,  when 
Griffin  rapidly  retreated,  leaving  Donop 
in  the  lurch,  who  was  left  to  find  his  way 
back  to  Bordentown. 

If  all  the  details  of  Washington's  plan 
could  have  been  successfully  carried  out. 
not  a  man  would  have  escaped  from  Tren 
ton  ;  and,  with  the  aid  of  Cadwallader,  he 
would  have  been  able,  as  he  hoped,  to 
drive  the  enemy  from  all  their  posts  be 
low  that  town.  He  was  well  satisfied, 
however,  with  the  conduct  of  those  troops 
who  were  with  him  and  won  the  day.  He 
pays  this  tribute  to  them  in  his  letter  to 
the  president  of  Congress :  "  In  justice  to 
the  officers  and  men,  I  must  add  that  their 
behavior  upon  this  occasion  reflects  the 
highest  honor  upon  them.  The  difficulty 
of  passing  the  river  in  a  very  severe  night, 
and  their  march  through  a  violent  storm 
of  snow  and  hail,  did  not  in  the  least  abate 
their  ardor;  but  when  they  came  to  the 


424 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


charge,  each  secme  1  to  vie  with  the  other 
in  pressing  forward :  and  were  I  to  give 
a  preference  to  any  particular  corps,  I 
should  do  great  injustice  to  the  others." 

When  the  wounded  Rahl  had  surren 
dered  his  sword,  he  was  borne  to  a  tavern, 
kept  by  a  Quaker  of  the  name  of  Stacey 
Potts.  Rahl's  wound  was  mortal,  and,  as 
he  was  dying,  Washington,  in  company 
with  General  Greene,  visited  and  consoled 
him  with  expressions  of  sympathy,  and 
well-deserved  praise  for  his  heroic  daring. 
The  Hessian  commander  was  soothed,  but 
declared  that  he  preferred  rather  to  die 
than  to  outlive  his  honor. 

General  Greene  and  Colonel  Knox(the 
latter  of  whom  had  been  made  a  briga 
dier-general  the  next  day  by  Congress, 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  triumph  at 


[PART  n. 

Trenton)  were  solicitous  that  Washing 
ton  should  push  on  and  increase  the  alarm 
of  the  enemy  by  striking  a  succession  of 
immediate  blows.  The  general-in-chief 
himself  was  apparently  inclined  to  this 
bold  policy,  but  most  of  the  officers  were 
against  it ;  and  "  his  excellency  did  not 
then  think  he  could  answer  going  con 
trary  to  the  judgment  of  the  majority  of 
a  council  of  war."* 

Washington,  therefore,  with  inferior 
numbers  to  the  enemy  posted  below,  and 
with  "a  strong  battalion  of  light-infantry" 
at  Princeton  above  him,  thought  it  most 
prudent  to  return;  and  accord 
ingly,  on  the  evening  of  his  tri 
umph,  he  re  crossed  the  Delaware  with 
the  prisoners  and  artillery  which  he  had 
taken. 


Dec.  26* 


CHAPTER   XL. 

The  Americans  greatly  encouraged  by  the  Triumph  at  Trenton. — Pennsylvania  comes  more  readily  to  the  Rescue. — New- 
Jersey  Whigs  more  decided. — The  Tories  more  vacillating. — The  Insolence  of  the  Hessians. — Conduct  of  the  British 
Troops  in  New  Jersey. — "Protections." — No  Rights  of  Property. — Rapine,  Ravage,  and  Rape. — New  Jersey  becomes 
more  favorable  to  the  Patriots. — Cadwallader  crosses  the  Delaware,  and  marches  to  Burlington. — No  Resistance. — 
"Down  with  the  Red  Rags !" — Panic  of  the  Enemy. — Cadwallader  at  Bordentown. — Washington  makes  Great  Prepa 
rations  to  attack. — Sir  William  Howe  aroused. — Lord  Cornwallis  sent  to  take  the  Command  in  New  Jersey. — Wash 
ington  without  Money. — Rol'ert  Morris  called  upon. — His  "  Ways  and  Means." — A  Friend  indeed. — Washington 
crosses  the  Delaware. — Reed  *jnt  out  to  reconnoitre. — His  Capture  of  a  Foraging-Party. — Riding  double. — Washing 
ton's  Position  on  the  Assumpink. — The  Arrival  and  Position  of  the  Enemy. — Washington  made  Military  Dictator. — 
His  Dignified  Acceptance  of  the  Trust. — The  Enemy  postpone  their  Attack. — The  Americans  in  Danger. — A  Chance 
of  Escape. 


1776, 


THE  triumph  at  Trenton  was  a 
great  encouragement  to  the  Ameri 
can  cause.  The  troops  were  so  much  in 
spirited  by  their  success,  that  all  were 
more  eager  for  the  fight,  and  some  whose 
term  of  service  was  about  expiring  were 


induced  to  re-enlist.  Influences  which  be 
fore  proved  unavailing  were  now  brought 
to  bear  with  effect.  When  such  as  ap 
peared  determined  to  go  off  and  return 
to  their  homes  were  harangued,  artfully 

*  Gordon. 


REVOLUTIONARY,  j 


BRITISH  AND  HESSIAN  OUTRAGES. 


425 


reminded  that  they  would  be  called  cow 
ards  should  they  leave,  and  promised  a 
bounty  of  ten  dollars  each  man,  more 
than  half  agreed  to  remain  six  weeks 
longer.  The  militia  more  promptly  an 
swered  to  the  call  upon  them.  Pennsyl 
vania  was  now  roused,  and  General  Mif- 
ilin  was  enabled  in  the  course  of  a  few 
days  to  send  a  reinforcement  of  upward 
of  a  thousand  men  to  Washington's  army. 
The  vacillating  whigs  of  New  Jersey  be 
came  more  decided,  and  no  longer  feared 
to  declare  and  act  for  the  American  cause; 
while  even  many  of  the  tories  clung  less 
tenaciously  to  British  interests.  The  in 
solence  and  violent  outrages  of  the  royal 
troops,  and  especially  of  the  Hessians, 
had  increased  the  virulence  of  their  origi 
nal  foes,  and  even  provoked  some  of  their 
former  friends  to  hostility. 

When  the  royal  army  entered  the  Jer 
seys,  most  of  the  inhabitants  remained  in 
their  houses,  and  many  thousands  received 
printed  "  protections,"  signed  by  Sir  Wil 
liam  Howe.  But  these  saved  their  hold 
ers  neither  from  insult  nor  robbery  :  their 
property  was  taken  or  destroyed,  without 
distinction  of  persons.  They  might  show 
their  "protections :"  the  Hessians  could 
not  or  would  not  understand  them,  and 
the  English  took  care  to  have  their  share 
of  the  plunder.  The  officers,  both  Hes 
sian  and  British,  were  no  less  ready  to 
violate  the  rights  of  property  than  their 
soldiers.  The  carriages  of  gentlemen  "  of 
the  first  rank"  were  seized,  their  arms  de 
faced,  while  the  commissioned  plunderers 
blazoned  their  own  on  the  panels,  and 
thus  insolently  paraded  throughout  town 
and  country. 

54 


"Discontents  and  murmurs  increased 
every  hour  at  the  licentious  ravages  of 
the  soldiery, both  British  and  foreign,  who 
were  shamefully  permitted,  with  unre 
lenting  hand,  to  pillage  friend  and  foe  in 
the  Jerseys.  Neither  age  nor  sex  was 
spared.  Indiscriminate  ruin  attended  ev 
ery  person  they  met  with.  Infants,  chil 
dren,  old  men  and  women,  were  left  in 
their  shirts,  without  a  blanket  to  cover 
them,  under  the  inclemency  of  winter. 
Every  kind  of  furniture  was  destroyed 
and  burnt ;  windows  and  doors  were  bro 
ken  to  pieces :  in  short,  the  houses  were 
left  uninhabitable,  and  the  people  with 
out  provisions  •  for  every  horse,  cow,  ox, 
and  fowl,  was  carried  off! 

"  Horrid  depredations  and  abuses  were 
committed  by  that  part  of  the  army  which 
was  stationed  at  or  near  Penny  town.  Six 
teen  young  women  fled  to  the  woods,  to 
avoid  the  brutality  of  the  soldiers,  and 
were  there  seized  and  carried  off  One 
man  had  the  cruel  mortification*  to  have 
his  wife  and  only  daughter  (a  child  of  ten 
years  of  age)  ravished.  Another  girl  of 
thirteen  was  taken  from  her  father's 
house,  carried  to  a  barn  about  a  mile  ofi^ 
there  dishonored  and  abused  by  five  oth 
ers.  A  most  respectable  gentleman,  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Woodbridge,  was 
alarmed  with  the  cries  and  shrieks  of  a 
most  lovely  daughter :  he  found  a  British 
officer  in  the  act  of  violating  her,  and  in 
stantly  put  him  to  death.  Two  other  offi 
cers  rushed  in  with  their  fusees,  and  fired 
two  balls  into  the  father,  who  was  left 
languishing  under  his  wounds."*]" 

*  Rather  a  mild  term  for  so  heinous  a  crime ! 
t  Gordon. 


420 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Dec,  27, 


Exasperated  by  such  enormities,  the 
people  of  New  Jersey  Avere  ready,  at  the 
least  show  of  strength  on  the  part  of 
Washington's  army,  to  rally  to  his  aid. 
The  commander-in-chief,thus  assisted, not 
only  by  reinforcements  to  his  troops,  but 
by  an  accession  of  feeling  in  his  favor,  de 
termined  to  cross  over  into  New  Jersey 
again,  and  make  another  demonstration 
against  the  enemy. 

General  Cadwallader,  having  heard  of 
Washington's  successful  attack  upon  the 
Hessians  at  Trenton,  crossed  into  Jersey 
early  the  next  morning,  with  fif 
teen  hundred  of  the  Pennsylva 
nia  militia.  He  had  no  sooner  landed 
most  of  his  troops,  when  he  learned  that 
Washington  had  recrossed  the  Delaware 
the  night  before,  and  was  then  on  the 
Pennsylvania  side.  As  Cadwallader  was 
thus  defeated  in  his  intention  of  forming 
a  junction  with  the  main  body,  he  was 
much  embarrassed  which  way  to  proceed. 
He  himself  thought  it  most  prudent  to 
retreat.  Colonel  Reed,  who  was  with  him, 
warmly  advocated  the  bolder  policy  of 
marching  to  Burlington,  lest  the  fluctua 
ting  militia,  whose  spirit  was  now  up, 
should  be  discouraged  by  a  second  disap 
pointment.  It  was  soon  discovered  that 
there  was  little  fear  of  immediate  oppo 
sition  from  the  enemy.  Although  Cad 
wallader  crossed  the  river  in  open  day 
light,  there  was  no  show  of  resistance  to 
his  landing ;  notwithstanding,  with  the 
overpowering  force  of  the  enemy,  they 
could  have  readily  overcome  him.  They 
were,  in  fact,  so  panic-stricken  by  their 
defeat  at  Trenton,  that  they  fled  precipi 
tately,  as  we  shall  see,  abandoning  their 


posts  at  Black  Horse,  Mount  Holly,  Bur 
lington,  and  Bordentown,  and  were  now 
retreating  toward  South  Amboy. 

General  Cadwallader,  meeting  with  no 
opposition,  now  did  not  hesitate  to  accede 
to  Colonel  Reed's  views,  and  determined 
to  push  on,  though  cautiously.  Reed,  ac 
companied  by  two  other  officers,  rode  on 
in  advance  to  reconnoitre.  On  approach 
ing  Burlington,  the  enemy's  outposts  were 
found  abandoned ;  and,  on  entering  the 
place,  there  were  all  the  signs  of  a  late 
and  precipitate  retreat.  As  Reed  and  his 
companions  in  their  continental  uniforms 
rode  through  the  streets  of  the  town,  the 
inhabitants  pulled  down  the  "  red  rags," 
which  had  been  nailed  to  their  doors  as 
a  demonstration  of  loyalty  to  the  British 
flag,  and  gladly  welcomed  the  protection 
of  another  color.  So  Reed  pushed  on, 
from  post  to  post,  sending  back  intelli 
gence  from  each  point  to  Cadwallader, 
who  followed  with  the  troops.  The  coun 
try  was  found  everywhere  clear  of  the 
enemy  as  far  as  Bordentown ;  and  here, 
when  all  arrived,  they  halted.  Cadwal 
lader  immediately  wrote  to  Washington, 
informing  him  of  his  arrival  at  that  place 
with  eighteen  hundred  men,  and  that  five 
hundred  more  were  advancing  from  be 
low.  Washington,  in  reply,  ordered  Cad 
wallader  to  remain  at  Bordentown  until 
he  himself  should  pass  over  the  Delaware, 
which  he  proposed  to  do  on  the  29th  of 
December,  when  the  troops  might  be  suf 
ficiently  refreshed  for  another  movement. 

The  commander-in-chief  was  making 
extensive  preparations  for  his  enterprise. 
He  wrote  to  Generals  M'Dougall  and  Max 
well,  who  were  at  Morristown,  to  use  their 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ROBERT  MORRIS  AND  HIS  QUAKER  FRIEND. 


427 


utmost  efforts  in  collecting  a  body  of  mi 
litia,  with  which  to  harass  the  enemy  on 
Hank  and  rear,  should  they  advance  or 
retreat.  They  were  informed  that  the 
continental  regiments  from  the  eastern 
provinces  had  agreed  to  stay  six  weeks 
beyond  their  term  of  enlistment,  and  that 
lie  had  agreed  to  pay  them  for  "  this  ex 
traordinary  mark  of  their  attachment  to 
their  country"  a  bounty  of  ten  dollars 
each  man.  "  I  hope,"  added  Washington, 
"  this  noble  example  will  be  followed  by 
the  four  regiments  under  your  command. 
Promise  them  the  same  reward,  and  en 
deavor  to  work  upon  them  by  every 
means  in  your  power."  He  also  wrote  to 
General  Heath  to  cross  the  Hudson  from 
Peekskill  with  the  New-England  militia, 
and  advance  southerly  by  way  of  Hack- 
ensack,  in  order  that  he  might  be  ready, 
on  receiving  orders  from  his  chief,  to  co 
operate  with  him,  as  "  I  think,"  he  wrote, 
"  a  fair  opportunity  is  offered  of  driving 
the  enemy  entirely  from  Jersey,  or  at 
least  to  the  extremity  of  the  province." 
Every  precaution  in  his  power  had  been 
taken  for  subsisting  the  troops,  and  all 
other  preparations  made ;  and  "I  shall/' 
says  Washington,  "  without  loss  of  time, 
and  as  soon  as  circumstances  will  admit 
of  it,  pursue  the  enemy  in  their  retreat, 
try  to  beat  up  more  of  their  quarters, 
and,  in  a  word,  adopt  in  every  instance 
such  measures  as  the  exigency  of  our  af 
fairs  requires  and  our  situation  will  just- 

ify-" 

In  the  meantime,  Sir  William  Howe 
heard  with  alarm  of  the  defeat  of  the 
Hessians  at  Trenton,  and  of  the  panic  of 
the  troops.  Earl  Cornwallis  was  imme 


diately  sent  from  New  York  (where  he 
was  preparing  to  embark  for  England)  to 
resume  the  command  in  New  Jersey.  He 
accordingly  hastened  to  Princeton,  where 
he  was  followed  by  a  large  force  from  the 
British  encampment  at  Brunswick. 

Washington,  by  his  liberal  promise  of 
a  bounty  of  ten  dollars  to  each  man,  had 
succeeded  in  keeping  his  army  together, 
but  was  puzzled,  with  an  empty  military 
chest,  to  find  means  for  the  fulfilment  of 
his  word.  The  army  treasury  was  so  far 
exhausted,  that  the  commander-in-chief, 
when  requiring  a  small  amount  of  money 
for  secret  service,  had  been  obliged  to 
write  to  ROBERT  MORRIS,  a  wealthy  banker 
at  Philadelphia,  in  these  terms  :  "  If  you 
could  possibly  collect  a  sum,  if  it  were 
but  one  hundred  or  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds,  it  would  be  of  service."  Morris, 
with  his  usual  promptness,  at  once  sent 
the  sum.  His  financial  resources,  howev 
er,  were  now  to  be  more  severely  tasked. 
Washington  wanted  a  large  sum  to  meet 
the  payment  of  the  promised  bounty  to 
the  troops.  The  "  patriot  financier"  was 
the  only  resource ;  but  he  himself,  when 
written  to,  was,  with  all  his  facilities,  mo 
mentarily  puzzled  to  meet  the  demand. 

Morris  pondered  over  the  ordinary 
ways  and  means  of  raising  the  money, 
but,  discovering  that  none  were  availa 
ble,  sallied  out  from  his  counting-house 
almost  in  despair.  He  had  not  gone  far 
when  he  met  a  Quaker  fellow-citizen,  who 
was  known  to  be  wealthy.  Morris  stopped 
him,  and  acquainted  him  with  his  wants. 
"Robert,  what  security  wilt  thou  give?" 
asked  the  Quaker.  "My  note,  and  my 
honor,"  answered  Morris.  "  Thou  shalt 


428 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Dec.  30. 


have  it,"  was  the  prompt  rejoinder.*  The 
next  day,  by  the  timely  aid  of  his  Quaker 
friend,  Morris  was  enabled  to  write  to 
Washington :  "  I  am  up  very  early  this 
morning,  to  despatch  a  supply  of  fifty 
thousand  dollars  to  your  excellency.  You 
will  receive  that  sum  with  this  letter; 
but  it  will  not  be  got  away  so  early  as  I 
could  wish,  for  none  concerned  in  this 
movement  except  myself  are  up.  I  shall 
rouse  them  immediately.  It  gives  me 
great  pleasure  that  you  have  engaged  the 
troops  to  continue ;  and  if  further  occa 
sional  supplies  of  money  are  necessary, 
you  may  depend  on  my  exertions  either 
in  a  public  or  private  capacity." 

Washington,  being  now  fully 
prepared,  crossed  the  Delaware 
with  the  van  of  his  troops.  The  river, 
however,  was  so  full  of  drifting  ice,  and 
the  passage  so  difficult,  that  it  was  im 
possible  to  get  the  entire  army  over  un 
til  late  on  the  following  day.  During 
this  movement,  Washington  sent  Colonel 
Reed  out,  at  the  head  of  twelve  dragoons, 
to  reconnoitre  and  try  to  discover  if  the 
enemy  were  approaching,  about  whose 
operations  nothing  certain  was  known. 
Reed,  being  well  acquainted  with  the 
country,  had  no  difficulty  in  scouring  it 
pretty  effectually.  In  the  course  of  his 
ride,  he  discovered  that  a  British  commis 
sary,  with  a  foraging-party,  was  in  a  house 
on  the  road.  Reed  accordingly  rode  up 
writh  his  dozen  men  and  immediately  sur 
rounded  the  place.  The  party  within, 
which  amounted  in  numbers  to  the  same 
as  that  of  the  Americans,  was  so  taken 
by  surprise,  and  panic-stricken,  that  it 

*  Lossing. 


surrendered  without  a  blow.  Reed  and 
his  men  galloped  back  to  the  American 
camp ;  and,  as  each  trooper  rode  in  with 
a  prisoner  mounted  behind  him,  he  was 
received  with  a  loud  shout  of  applause. 

Washington  could  obtain  no  certain  in 
telligence  of  the  number  and  situation  of 
the  enemy ;  but,  from  the  most  reliable 
accounts,  it  appeared  that  they  had  col 
lected  the  principal  part  of  their  force 
from  Brunswick  and  the  adjacent  posts  at 
Princeton,  where  they  were  throwing  up 
some  works.  Their  number  was  reported 
to  be  from  five  to  six  thousand.  Gener 
al  Howe  was  also  said  to  have  landed  at 
Amboy  with  a  thousand  light-troops.,  with 
which  he  was  on  his  march. 

As  soon  as  he  had  crossed  the  Dela 
ware,  Washington  took  up  his  position  on 
the  high  ground  to  the  east  of  Trenton, 
along  the  bank  of  the  Assumpink  creek, 
and  was  thus  separated  from  the  town  by 
this  small  stream.  His  delay  in  passing 
his  troops  over  the  Delaware  had  given 
the  enemy  an  opportunity  of  drawing  in 
their  several  cantonments  and  assembling 
their  whole  force  at  Princeton.  They 
evidently  meditating  an  attack,  and  had 
pushed  forward  strong  advanced  pickets 
toward  Trenton. 

Washington,  with  his  small  force,  now 
felt  himself  to  be  in  a  most  critical  situ 
ation,  lie  was  embarrassed,  as  was  fre 
quently  the  case,  by  a  want  of  reliance 
upon  his  militia.  He  could  not  act  mere 
ly  as  the  military  tactician,  and  move  his 
men  as  a  general  could  a  well-disciplined 
army.  The  American  commander  was 
forced  to  become  the  politician,  and  con 
sult  the  caprices  of  his  fluctuating  and 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        WASHINGTON  GIVEN  DICTATORIAL  POWERS. 


429 


1777, 


irregular  troops.  He  might,  as  a  strate 
gist,  have  wished  to  retire ;  but  "  to  re 
move  immediately  was  again  destroying 
every  dawn  of  hope  which  had  begun  to 
revive  in  the  breasts  of  the  Jersey  mili 
tia."  He  therefore  determined  to  hold 
his  present  position,  dangerous  as  it  was, 
and  strengthen  himself  by  ordering  the 
troops  lying  at  Crosswicks,  under  Gener 
al  Cadwallader,  and  those  under  General 
Mifflin,  to  join  him  at  Trenton,  although 
it  was  "  to  bring  them  to  an  exposed 
place."  They  accordingly  came,  and,  af 
ter  a  hard  night's  march,  reached 
the  camp  on  the  first  day  of  the 
new  year. 

Washington  had  now  about  five  thou 
sand  men,  encamped  in  a  line  of  two 
miles  in  length,  along  the  Assumpink 
creek.  The  bridge  and  the  fords  which 
crossed  that  stream  were  strongly  guard 
ed  with  artillery,  and  General  Greene  was 
sent  out  with  a  detachment  to  harass  the 
advance  of  the  enemy.  Greene,  by  pro 
voking  him  to  frequent  skirmishes,  suc 
ceeded  in  delaying  the  approach  of  Lord 
Cornwallis.  While  Greene  was  spiritedly 
holding  the  British  in  check  on  the  road 
from  Princeton,  within  a  short  distance  of 
Trenton,  Washington  rode  up,  and,  join 
ing  the  advanced  detachment,  thanked 
the  troops,  and  particularly  the  artillery, 
for  the  services  of  the  day.  Then,  hav 
ing  given  orders  for  them  to  make  as  ob 
stinate  a  stand  as  they  could  where  they 
were  without  risking  the  safety  of  their 
cannon,  he  rode  back  to  marshal  his  troops 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Assumpink.  The 
commander-in-chief  "stood  fairly  commit 
ted  to  a  general  action  if  the  enemy  had 


Jan,  2. 


provoked  it."*  He  was  therefore  partic 
ularly  anxious  to  retard  their  march  un 
til  nightfall.  His  orders  were  so  well 
obeyed,  that  the  head  of  the  British  col 
umn  did  not  reach  Trenton  un 
til  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
while  their  rear  was  as  far  back  as  Maid 
enhead.  As  soon  as  the  enemy  entered 
the  town,  they  made  a  rush  for  the  bridge 
and  the  fords  across  the  Assumpink  creek, 
but  finding  them  well  guarded,  and  re 
ceiving  a  hot  fire  from  the  American  ar 
tillery,  they  halted  and  kindled  their  fires. 
Thus  the  two  opposing  forces  remained 
until  dark,  with  the  small  stream  between 
them,  and  cannonading  each  other  with 
their  fieldpieces. 

On  the  day  before  only.  Washington 
had  received  intelligence  of  a  resolution 
of  Congress,  which,  although  it  freed  him 
from  accountability  to  others,  must  have 
greatly  added  to  the  feeling  of  personal 
responsibility  which  now  weighed  upon 
him  at  this  trying  time.  He  had,  by  the 
deliberate  act  of  the  representatives  of 
his  country,  been  endowed  with  the  pow 
ers  of  a  dictator.  The  great  cause  of 
achieving  the  independence  of  the  com 
bined  states  was  confided  to  him  alone. 
With  what  a  simple  yet  lofty  calmness 
does  he  accept  the  trust ! 

"  Instead  of  thinking  myself,"  Washing 
ton  wTites  to  the  committee  of  Congress, 
"  freed  from  all  civil  obligations,  by  this 
mark  of  their  confidence,  I  shall  constant 
ly  bear  in  mind  that,  as  the  sword  was 
the  last  resort  for  the  preservation  of  our 
liberties,  so  it  ought  to  be  the  first  thing 

*  Memoirs  of  our  Own  Times,  by  General  James  Wilkin 
son. 


430 


BATTLES  0*   AMERICA. 


[PART  ir. 


laid  aside  when  those  liberties  are  firmly 
established."* 

*  The  following  was  the  resolution  of  Congress,  which 
w;is  then  in  session  at  Baltimore  : — 

"December  27,  1776. — This  Congress,  having  maturely 
considered  the  present;  and  having  perfect  reliance  on  the 
wisdom,  vigor,  and  uprightness,  of  General  WASHINGTON, 
do  hereby 

"Resolve,  That  General  WASHINGTON  shall  be,  and  he 
is  hereby,  vested  with  full,  ample,  and  complete  powers,  to 
raise  and  collect  together,  in  the  most  speedy  and  effectual 
manner,  from  any  or  all  of  these  United  States,  sixteen  bat 
talions  of  infantry,  in  addition  to  those  already  voted  by 
Congress;  to  appoint  officers  for  the  said  battalions  of  in 
fantry  ;  to  raise,  officer,  and  equip,  three  thousand  light- 
horse,  three  regiments  of  artillery,  and  a  corps  of  engineers, 
and  to  establish  their  pay;  to  apply  to  any  of  the  states  for 
such  aid  of  the  militia  as  he  shall  judge  necessary  ;  to  form 
such  magazines  of  provisions,  and  in  such  places,  as  he  shall 
think  proper;  to  displace  and  appoint  all  officers  under  the 
rank  of  brigadier-general,  and  to  fill  up  all  vacancies  in  ev 
ery  other  department  in  the  American  army;  to  take,  wher 
ever  he  may  be,  whatever  he  may  want  for  the  use  of  the 
army,  if  the  inhabitants  will  not  sell  it,  allowing  a  reason 
able  price  for  the  same;  to  arrest  and  confine  persons  who 
refuse  to  take  the  continental  currency,  or  are  otherwise  dis 
affected  to  the  American  cause ;  and  r^Mirn  to  the  states  of 

A^ 

which  they  are  citizens,  their  names,  and  the  nature  of  their 
offences,  together  with  the  witnesses  to  prove  them. 

"  That  the  foregoing  powers  be  vested  to  General  WASH 
INGTON  for  and  during  the  term  of  six  months  from  the  date 
hereof,  unless  sooner  determined  by  Congress." 

A  copy  of  these  resolutions  was  sent  to  the  governor  of 
each  state,  together  with  the  following  letter : — 

"  BALTIMORE,  December  30, 1776. 

"  SIR  :  Ever  attentive  to  the  security  of  civil  liberty,  Con 
gress  would  not  have  consented  to  the  vesting  of  such  pow 
ers  in  the  military  department  as  those  which  the  enclosed 
resolves  convey  to  the  continental  commander-in-chief,  if  the 
situation  of  public  affairs  did  not  require  at  this  crisis  a  de 
cision  and  vigor  which  distance  and  numbers  deny  to  assem 
blies  far  removed  from  each  other,  and  from  the  immediate 
seat  of  war. 

"  The  strength  and  progress  of  the  enemy,  joined  to  pros 
pects  of  considerable  reinforcements,  have  rendered  it  not 
only  necessary  that  the  American  forces  should  be  augment 
ed  beyond  what  Congress  had  heretofore  designed,  but  that 
they  should  be  brought  into  the  field  with  all  possible  expe 
dition.  These  considerations  induce  Congress  to  request, 
in  the  most  earnest  manner,  that  the  fullest  influence  of  your 
state  may  be  exerted  to  aid  such  levies  as  the  general  shall 
direct,  in  consequence  of  the  powers  now  ^iven  him;  and 
that  your  quota  of  battalions,  formally  fixed,  may  be  com 
pleted  and  ordered  to  headquarters  with  all  the  despatch  that 
an  ardent  desire  to  serve  the  public  happiness  can  dictate. 

<;  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  <kc.          "  JOHN  HANCOCK,  President." 


Washington  was  only  a  thousand  yards 
distant  from  the  front  of  his  enemy.  It 
was  true,  there  was  the  little  stream  of 
the  Assumpink  intervening,  but  this  was 
ford  able  at  almost  every  point.  Corn- 
wallis's  columns  were  displayed  in  great 
force  along  the  border  of  the  town  and 
the  heights  beyond.  "Thirty  minutes 
would  have  sufficed  to  bring  the  two  ar 
mies  into  contact,  and  thirty  more  would 
have  decided  the  combat."  But  it  was 
growing  dark,  and  the  British  troops  were 
fatigued  with  the  long  march  of  that  day 
"  from  sunrise  to  sunset."  They  had  been 
under  arms  for  twelve  long  hours ;  they 
were  consequently  languid,  and  required 
rest.  Moreover,  Cornwallis  thought  he 
had  "  the  enemy  safe  enough,  and  could 
dispose  of  them  the  next  morning."  He 
therefore  ordered  his  men  to  make  fires 
refresh  themselves,  and  take  repose.  The 
other  British  officers  coincided  with  their 
chief,  with  the  exception  of  Sir  William 
Erskine,  who  could  not  control  his  vexa 
tion  at  this  imprudent  resolution,  and  ex 
claimed  impetuously,  "My  lord,  if  you  trust 
these  people  to-night,  you  will  see  nothing  of 
them  in  the  morning  /"  Sir  William,  how 
ever,  was  not  heeded  :  the  fires  were  light 
ed,  the  men  ordered  to  supper,  and  the 
advanced  sentries  posted  for  the  night. 

Opposite  was  Washington's  army,  ap- 

The  committee  of  Congress,  composed  of  Robert  Morris 
and  George  Clymer  of  Pennsylvania,  and  George  Walton 
of  Georgia,  who  remained  in  Philadelphia,  sent  the  resolu 
tions  of  Congress  to  Washington,  with  these  words  :  "  We 
find,  by  these  resolves,  that  your  excellency's  hands  will  be 
strengthened  with  very  ample  powers  ;  and  a  new  reforma 
tion  of  the  army  seems  to  have  its  origin  therein.  Happy 
it  is  for  the  country  that  the  general  of  their  forces  can  safely 
be  intrusted  with  the  most  unlimited  power,  and  neither  per 
sonal  security,  liberty,  nor  property,  be  in  the  least  degree 
endangered  thereby  !" — SPAKKS. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  ESCAPE  FROM  CORNWALLIS. 


parently  preparing,  like  the  enemy,  for 
repose ;  with  fires  blazing  up  here  and 
there  along  the  whole  line,  and  the  sen 
tinels  pacing  the  bank  of  the  Assumpink 
stream,  within  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
of  their  antagonists.  But  the  approach 
of  night  did  not  bring  with  it  any  sugges 
tion  of  repose  to  the  minds  of  Washing 
ton  and  his  general  officers.  They  were 
anxiously  pondering  upon  the  hazardous 
position  of  their  army.  With  an  enemy 
greatly  superior  in  numbers  and  disci 
pline  before  them,  and  with  the  Delaware 
river  (clogged  with  floating  ice)  behind, 
there  was  certainly  enough  in  the  pros 
pects  of  the  dangers  of  the  coming  morn 
ing  to  disturb  the  slumbering  influences 
of  night. 

Washington,  fully  conscious  of  all  the 
hazards  of  his  position,  early  in  the  even 
ing  called  together  his  general  officers  in 
council.  He  had  but  a  brief  statement 
to  make.  The  situation  of  the  army  was 
known  to  all :  a  battle  was  certain  if  his 
troops  remained  where  they  were  until 
the  morning,  and  a  defeat  hardly  less 
sure,  with  the  superior  advantages  of  the 
enemy ;  if  a  defeat  without  means  of  re 
treating,  the  result  would  be  disastrous, 
and  perhaps  fatal  to  the  cause.  What, 
then,  was  to  be  done,  was  the  question 
submitted.  Some  were  in  favor  of  re 
treating  at  once ;  while  others  were  dis 


posed  to  await  the  chances  of  the  morn 
ing,  and  risk  a  general  engagement,  with 
all  its  hazards  to  the  troops  and  to  the 
country. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  General  St. 
Clair,  when  charged  with  the  guarding  of 
the  fords  of  the  Assumpink,  and  while  ex 
amining  the  ground  to  his  right,  had  dis 
covered  a  circuitous  route,  which  was 
called  the  "  Quaker  road,"  or  that  leading 
to  the  Quaker  bridge  and  meetinghouse.* 
He,  therefore,  is  said  to  have  suggested 
this  as  a  way  by  which  Princeton  might 
be  reached,  and  the  rear  of  the  British 
(under  the  command  of  General  Leslie, 
on  the  high-road)  be  avoided.  Washing 
ton  heartily  welcomed  this  suggestion, 
and  adopted  it  without  hesitation.  It  was 
accordingly  determined  to  march  at  once 
by  this  roundabout  Quaker  road  to  Prince 
ton,  where  it  was  concluded,  from  the 
large  force  which  Cornwallis  had  thrown 
into  Trenton,  that  he  could  not  have  left 
many  troops,  and  might  have  left  stores. 
"  One  thing  I  was  certain  of,"  says  Wash 
ington,  "  that  it  would  avoid  the  appear 
ance  of  a  retreat  (which  was  of  conse 
quence,  or  to  run  the  hazard  of  the  whole 
army  being  cut  off),  whilst  we  might, 
by  a  fortunate  stroke,  withdraw  General 
Howe  from  Trenton,  and  give  some  rep 
utation  to  our  arms." 

*  Wilkinson. 


432 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAUT    II. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

The  Quaker  Road  —Providential  Change  of  Wind.— The  Stolen  March. — A  Successful  Ruse.— The  Night. — The  Route 
to  Princeton. — General  Mercer  and  the  Advance. — Meeting  with  the  Enemy. — A  Surprise. — A  Conflict. — The  Pro 
vincials  beaten  back. — Washington  to  the  Rescue. — His  Personal  Exposure  and  Danger. — The  Enemy  routed. — "  The 
Day  is  our  own  !" — Turned  out  of  College. — The  Pursuit. — A  Fine  Fox-Chase. — Bayoneting  of  General  Mercer. — 
Lord  Cormviillis  bewildered. — "  Washington  at  Princeton  !" — No  Pursuit. — Loss  on  Boih  Sides  — Death  of  Mercer. — 
Biographical  Sketch. — Washington  retires  from  Princeton. — The  Winter's  Bivouac. — Alarm  of  Cornwallis,  and  his 
Rapid  March  to  Brunswick. — The  American  Winter-Quarters  at  Morristown. — Movements  of  General  Heath. — Au 
Affair,  and  Heath's  own  Account  of  it. 


1777, 


THERE  was  one  serious  difficulty 
in  carrying  out  the  plan  proposed 
of  a  rapid  movement  that  night  (January 
2d)  along  the  rough  and  circuitous  route 
called  the  "  Quaker  road."  The  weather 
for  two  days  had  been  unusually  mild, 
and  the  ground  had  become  so  soft,  that 
it  would  be  almost  impracticable  to  get 
on  with  the  cattle,  carriages,  and  artille 
ry.  While  the  council  of  war,  however, 
are  pondering  over  this  difficulty,  it  is 
providentially  removed.  The  wind  sud 
denly  changes  into  the  northwest ;  the 
weather  becomes  intensely  cold  ;  and  the 
ground  freezes  so  hard,  that  soon  the  road 
is  like  a  solid  pavement.  There  is  now 
no  obstacle  to  the  manoeuvre,  and  imme 
diate  preparations  are  made  for  its  exe 
cution. 

Great  precautions  are  taken  to  prevent 
the  suspicions  of  the  enemy.  Washing 
ton  orders  the  guards  to  be  doubled  at 
the  bridge  and  the  fords  of  the  Assumpink 
stream,  sends  a  strong  fatigue-party  with 
their  picks  and  spades  to  work  on  an  in- 
trenchment  within  hearing  distance  of  the 
British  sentries,  and  directs  the  camp-fires 
to  be  kept  blazing  by  using  the  neighbor- 


Jan,  2, 


ing  fences  for  fuel.  The  first  movement 
is  to  send  off  the  baggage  to  Burlington, 
which  is  done  early  in  the  night.  The 
troops  are  not  prepared  to  march  until 
twelve  o'clock. 

The  army  was  filed  off  silently  by  de 
tachments.  The  night  was  ex 
ceedingly  dark,  although  calm, 
clear,  and  severely  cold.  The  working- 
parties,  guards,  and  those  charged  with 
keeping  the  fires  blazing,  were  left  be 
hind,  with  orders  not  to  retire  until  tow 
ard  the  break  of  day.  The  stratagem  is 
entirely  successful.  The  whole  American 
army  gets  away  without  exciting  the  least 
suspicion  on  the  part  of  Earl  Cornwallis, 
who  reposes  for  the  night  in  the  confi 
dent  expectation  of  "catching  the  fox  in 
the  morning,"  as  he  himself  declared  to 
his  officers. 

The  Quaker  road,  comparatively  new, 
and  not  much  used,  was  so  scored  with 
deep, frozen  ruts,  and  studded  with  stumps 
of  trees,  that  the  march  was  greatly  ob 
structed.  Washington's  purpose  was,  to 
have  reached  Princeton  before  daylight, 
with  the  expectation  of  taking  the  Brit 
ish  troops  there  by  surprise,  and  of  then 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  THE  MUTUAL  SURPRISE  AT  PRINCETON. 


433 


pushing  on  rapidly  to  Brunswick,  and 
seizing  the  magazine  and  stores  before 
the  enemy  should  take  the  alarm.  The 
march,  however,  was  so  long  dehoyed,  that 
the  day  broke  before  his  van 
arrived  at  Princeton.  Washing 
ton,  crossing  the  lower  bridge  over  the 
Stony  brook,  kept  his  main  body  on  the 
"Quaker  road"  until  he  reached  a  thick 
wood,  when  he  denied  to  the  right,  with 
the  view  of  taking  a  by-path  toward  the 
town.  He  ordered  General  Mercer,  how 
ever,  with  three  hundred  and  fifty  men 
(composed  of  the  fragments  of  Colonel 
Smallwood's  brave  Delawares  and  Mary- 
landers,  of  the  first  Virginia  regiment,  and 
some  few  volunteers),  together  with  two 
fieldpieces,  to  continue  to  the  left  on  the 
Quaker  road,  which  conducted  along  the 
Stony  brook,  until  he  reached  the  bridge 
over  which  passed  the  highway  that  led 
from  Princeton  to  Trenton.  Here  he  was 
to  take  possession  of  the  bridge,  for  the 
double  purpose  of  intercepting  the  fugi 
tives  from  Princeton,  and  to  guard  against 
an  attack  from  Cornwallis  at  Trenton. 

The  British  had  left  three  regiments  at 
Princeton,  under  the  command  of  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Mawhood,  when  the  main 
body  pushed  on  to  Trenton.  These  were 
the  seventeenth,  fortieth,  and  fifty-fifth. 
They  had  been  quartered  during  the  pre 
vious  night  in  the  town ;  but,  at  early 
dawn,  the  first-named  regiment  (the  sev 
enteenth),  with  Mawhood  at  its  head,  had 
marched  out  by  the  main  road,  to  join 
Cornwallis.  Passing  the  bridge  over  Sto 
ny  brook,  they  reached  some  high  ground 
a  little  distance  beyond,  on  their  route, 
at  the  moment  when  Washington's  troops 
55 


were  emerging  from  behind  the  wood, 
around  which  they  were  defiling  toward 
the  town. 

The  morning  was  fine,  and  in  the  clear 
frosty  air  every  object  could  be  distinctly 
seen.  /The  British  and  Americans  seemed 
at  this  moment  to  have  caught  a  simul 
taneous  view  of  each  other.  On  looking 
across  the  country  toward  the  Trenton 
road,  some  of  Washington's  officers  saw 
the  reflection  of  arms  in  the  light  of  the 
rising  sun,  as  the  enemy  were  ascending 
the  high  ground.  It  was  but  for  a  mo 
ment,  however,  for  the  British  had  imme 
diately  shifted  their  position.  That  they 
had  not  been  less  observant  was  soon  evi 
dent,  for  two  of  their  horsemen  were  seen 
to  leap  a  fence  and  advance  through  the 
fields  for  the  purpose  of  reconnoitring. 
After  a  hurried  glance,  they  galloped 
back ;  and  soon  the  enemy,  having  faced 
about,  were  observed  rapidly  descending 
the  hill  and  retracing  their  steps  toward 
Princeton.  They  had  succeeded  in  re- 
crossing  the  bridge,  when,  without  sus 
pecting  its  approach,  they  suddenly  came 
upon  General  Mercer's  detachment,  which 
was  hurrying  along  the  Quaker  road  tow 
ard  its  junction  with  the  highway,  for  the 
purpose  of  securing,  in  accordance  with 
Washington's  orders,  the  crossing  of  Stony 
brook  near  that  point.  The  two  parties 
were  within  less  than  five  hundred  yards 
of  each  other  when  the  mutual  surprise 
took  place  —  for  Mercer,  like  Mawhood, 
was  unconscious  of  the  approach  of  his 
enemy. 

The  two  hostile  detachments  now  hur 
ried  to  anticipate  each  other  in  getting 
possession  of  some  rising  ground,  about 


434 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT  ir. 


half  a  mile  north  of  Stony  brook,  to  the 
east  of  the  main  road,  and  on  the  west 
ern  edge  of  the  town.  The  Americans, 
manoeuvring  for  this  purpose,  had  got  in 
to  the  orchard  behind  the  house  of  Wil 
liam  Clark,  when  they  observed  the  Brit 
ish,  from  an  opposite  point,  making  for 
the  height.  Mercer  pushed  on  his  de 
tachment  in  all  haste  through  the  orchard, 
and  succeeded  in  first  gaining  the  ground 
beyond,  and  so  disposing  his  men  as  to 
leave  a  "worm  fence"  stretching  curvi- 
cally  across  the  acclivity  between  them 
and  the  enemy. 

Mercer,  in  possession  of  the  ground, 
began  the  attack,  under  the  cover  of  the 
fence,  with  a  volley  from  his  riflemen. 
Mawhood  returned  the  fire,  and  then  or 
dered  his  men  to  charge.  The  Americans 
fired  again  and  again,  and  with  terrible 
effect ;  but,  as  they  were  only  armed  with 
rifles,  they  could  not  withstand  the  onset 
of  the  British  troops  thrusting  home  their 
formidable  bayonets,  and  were  obliged  to 
retire.  At  the  first  volley  from  the  ene 
my,  Mercer's  gray  horse  was  shot  in  the 
knee,  and  that  gallant  officer  was  forced 
to  dismount,  and  struggle  with  the  foe 
hand  to  hand.  The  British  continued 
to  pursue,  and  the  Americans  to  retreat, 
when  Washington,  hearing  the  fire,  im 
mediately  summoned  the  Pennsylvania 
militia  and  Moulder's  battery  of  two  guns 
to  the  support  of  General  Mercer,  and  led 
them  in  person  against  the  enemy. 

Colonel  Mawhood,  observing  a  large 
force  coming  up,  is  suddenly  checked  in 
in  the  midst  of  his  hot  pursuit,  and,  halt 
ing,  brings  up  his  artillery.  The  Ameri 
can  militia  hesitate  to  advance,  waver  be 


fore  the  shot,  and  are  giving  wray,  when 
Washington  gallops  forward  and  strives 
to  press  them  on.  He  is  thus,  while  bran 
dishing  his  swrord,  and  spurring  his  white 
charger  in  front  of  the  lines,  a  conspicu 
ous  target  for  the  enemy.  His  death  ap 
pears  inevitable.  His  aid-de-camp,  Colo 
nel  Fitzgerald,  a  warm-hearted  Irishman, 
is  in  a  moment  aware  of  the  danger  of 
his  chief.  He  drops  the  reins  upon  his 
horse's  neck,  and  draws  his  hat  over  his 
face,  that  he  may  not  see  him  die  —  a  fate 
which  he  believes  that  Washington  at  that 
moment  can  not  possibly  escape. 

A  shout  of  victory  immediately  suc 
ceeds,  and  Fitzgerald  ventures  to  raise 
his  eyes.  Washington  is  safe  :  the  mili 
tia  have  rallied,  Moulder's  battery  has  dis 
charged  a  volley  of  grapeshot,  and  the 
British  are  flying  in  confused  haste,  over 
fields  and  fences,  toward  the  road  lead 
ing  to  Trenton,  leaving  their  artillery  be 
hind  them.  Colonel  Fitzgerald,  who  was 
"  celebrated  as  one  of  the  finest  horsemen 
in  the  American  army,"  digs  his  spurs  in 
to  his  steed,  dashes  forward,  and,  bring 
ing  up  by  the  side  of  Washington,  ex 
claims,  "  Thank  God,  your  excellency  is 
safe  !"  The  sudden  reaction  from  despair 
to  joy  was  too  much  for  the  impulsive 
Irishman,  and  he  "  wept  like  a  child." 
The  chief  grasped  his  hand  with  warmth, 
and  only  said  :  "  Away,  my  dear  colonel, 
and  bring  up  the  troops.  The  day  is  our 
own !" 

While  the  enemy's  seventeenth  regi 
ment  was  being  hotly  engaged,  the  fifty- 
fifth  was  marching  to  its  aid  ;  but,  on  dis 
covering  that  their  comrades  had  been 
put  to  flight,  they  returned  to  the  college, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  PRINCETON. 


435 


at  the  north  of  the  town;  where,  being  re 
inforced  by  the  fortieth,  quartered  there, 
they  marched  out  again  to  encounter  the 
American  detachment  under  General  St. 
Glair,  which  had  been  sent  after  them. 
A  ravine  separated  the  parties,  which,  al 
though  deep  and  precipitous,  the  Ameri 
cans  did  not  hesitate  to  cross.  While  as 
cending  the  acclivity  on  the  opposite  side, 
and  when  within  sixty  or  eighty  yards  of 
them,  the  British  wheeled  about,  and  hur 
ried  back  to  the  college.  On  reaching 
it,  they  began  to  knock  out  the  windows, 
that  they  might  have  free  scope  for  the 
use  of  their  musketry.  The  Americans, 
as  they  came  up,  expected  warm  work ; 
but  they  had  hardly  got  within  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  of  the  building,  when  the  ene 
my  rushed  out  at  the  front,  and  retreated 
by  long  and  loose  files  to  Rock  hill,  and 
thence  to  Brunswick.  As  St.  Glair  had 
no  cavalry,  he  could  not  pursue  the  fugi 
tives,  although  such  was  the  disorder  of 
their  flight,  that  "  two  troops  of  dragoons 
would  have  picked  up  the  two  regiments." 

While  Colonel  Mawhood  was  fly  ing  over 
the  fields  and  fences  toward  the  road  to 
Trenton, Washington  was  encouraging  his 
troops  in  pursuit,  and,  as  his  riflemen  were 
charging  them,  he  shouted,  "  It  is  a  fine 
fox-chase,  my  boys !"  The  American  gen 
eral,  no  less  spirited  a  sportsman  than 
Lord  Cornwallis,  was  evidently  enjoying 
"  the  run"  as  much  as  that  nobleman  had 
anticipated  for  himself,  when,  on  the  pre 
ceding  night,  he  so  complacently  talked 
of  "  catching  the  fox  in  the  morning." 

General  Mercer's  horse  was  crippled 
by  a  shot,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  begin 
ning  of  the  engagement,  and  he  himself 


obliged  to  dismount.  As  he  was  in  front 
of  his  men,  trying  ineffectually  to  rally 
them,  he  was  left  alone  on  the  field,  and 
the  British  soldiers,  coming  up,  knocked 
him  down,  bayoneted  him,  and  left  him 
for  dead.  He  was  afterward  found  near 
the  barn  of  William  Clark,  still  alive,  and 
conveyed  to  Clark's  house,  where  he  lin 
gered  for  awhile  under  the  effect  of  his 
fatal  wounds. 

The  distant  firing  was  heard  in  the  Brit 
ish  camp  at  Trenton.  Some  thought  it 
wras  thunder ;  and  Earl  Cornwallis,  with 
an  expression  of  anxiety,  asked  his  sur 
rounding  officers  what  it  could  be.  Sir 
William  Erskine  (who  had  so  earnestly 
recommended  an  attack  on  the  evenino- 

o 

before)  immediately  answered,  "My  lord, 
it  is  Washington  at  Princeton !" 

While  the  American  troops  were  gath 
ering  together  in  Princeton,  there  was 
great  alarm  felt  for  the  safety  of  Wash 
ington,  who  had  followed  the  enemy  in 
pursuit  several  miles  along  the  road  to 
Trenton.  He  continued  after  the  fugi 
tives,  and  did  not  turn  back  until  General 
Leslie,  commanding  the  rear  of  the  Brit 
ish  at  Maidenhead,  discovering  that  Wash 
ington's  army  was  behind  and  not  before 
as  he  had  supposed,  changed  his  front, 
and,  followed  by  Cornwallis  and  his  main 
body,  began  to  march  toward  Princeton, 
which  he  reached  just  as  the  rear-guard 
of  the  Americans  was  leaving — Wash 
ington,  on  his  return,  having  ordered  his 
troops  to  march  immediately.  The  pre 
caution  was  taken  to  break  down  the 
bridge  over  Stony  brook  ;  but  the  British 
commander,  not  waiting  to  replace  it,  or 
dered  his  men  (he  himself  showing  them 


436 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATIT    II. 


the  example)  to  plunge  into  the  shallow 
stream  and  wade  across.  Thus  thorough 
ly  wetted,  and  then  stiffened  into  ice  by 
the  frost,  the  troops  hurried  on  into  the 
town  and  thence  along  the  road  toward 
Brunswick,  which,  with  its  stores  and  mag 
azines,  was  supposed  to  be  Washington's 
next  point  of  attack. 

The  Americans  were  not  disposed  to 
linger  at  Princeton,  with  the  whole  army 
of  Cornwallis  pressing  by  a  forced  march 
on  their  rear.  Washington's  original  plan 
was,  to  have  pushed  on  to  Brunswick ; 
but  the  harassed  state  of  the  troops,  many 
of  them  having  had  no  rest  for  two  nights 
and  a  day,  and  the  danger  of  losing  the 
advantage  he  had  gained  by  aiming  at 
too  much,  induced  him,  "by  the  advice 
of  his  officers,"  to  give  it  up.  But  "  in 
my  judgment,"  says  Washington,  "  six  or 
eight  hundred  fresh  troops,  upon  a  forced 
march,  would  have  destroyed  all  their 
stores  and  magazines,  taken  their  mili 
tary  chest  containing  seventy  thousand 
pounds,  and  put  an  end  to  the  war." 

The  result  at  Princeton  was  sufficiently 
successful  to  greatly  encourage  the  Amer 
icans  and  dishearten  the  enemy.  Wash 
ington  had  only  lost  about  a  hundred  in 
all,  fourteen  of  whom  were  buried  on  the 
field.  The  British,  in  killed,  wounded, 
and  prisoners,  suffered  a  loss  of  nearly  six 
hundred.  Amono;  the  killed  of  the  Ens;- 

O  O 

lish  officers  was  a  Captain  Leslie,  son  of 
the  earl  of  Levin,  who  was  so  much  be 
loved,  that  those  who  were  taken  prison 
ers  besought  the  privilege  of  his  being 
buried  with  the  honors  of  war ;  and  when 
it  was  gran  ted,  the  men  who  had  belonged 
to  his  company  were  observed  to  weep 


bitterly  over  the  grave  of  their  young 
commander.  Washington,  too,  grieved 
over  the  death  of  some  of  the  most  able 
and  spirited  of  his  officers.  These  were, 
Colonels  Haslet  and  Potter;  Major  Mor 
ris  ;  Captains  William  Shippen,  Fleming, 
and  Neal;  and,  above  all,  General  Mer 
cer. 

Mercer  was  at  first  supposed  to  have 
died  on  the  field,  or  Washington  would 
have  endeavored  to  bring  him  away,  al 
though  he  believed,  as  he  declared,  "  that 
it  could  not  have  been  effected."  When 
he  heard  that  he  was  still  lino-erin^  at 

o  O 

Princeton, the  commander-in-chief  sent  his 
nephew,  Major  Lewis,  under  a  flag,  to  the 
enemy,  to  visit  him.  Mercer  was  dying ; 
but  with  his  aid-de-camp,  Major  Arm 
strong,  constantly  at  his  side,  and  the 
family  of  the  Clarks  (in  whose  house  he 
was)  ever  at  hand  to  administer  to  his 
wants,  the  last  moments  of  the  general, 
though  his  wrounds  gave  him  acute  pain, 
were  greatly  soothed.  He  died  in  the 
fifty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  in  the  arms  of 
Major  Lewis,  on  the  12th  of  January. 

HUGH  MERCER  was  a  Scotchman  by  birth 
and  a  Jacobite,  having  served  on  the  side 
of  the  Young  Pretender,  Prince  Charles 
Edward,  as  a  surgeon's  mate,  at  the  battle 
of  Culloden,  in  1746.  When  the  cause 
of  the  Stuarts  was  extinguished  for  ever, 
and  its  friends  dispersed,  Mercer  emigra 
ted  to  Virginia.  In  the  French  border 
wars,  he  laid  aside  the  scalpel  for  the 
sword,  and  became  a  military  officer,  serv 
ing  in  the  campaigns  of  175-5  and  1756 
as  a  comrade  of  Washington,  by  whom 
he  was  greatly  beloved.  Mercer  was  liv 
ing  in  Fredericksburg,  Virginia,  when  the 


EEVOLUTIONAEY.]        HUGH  MERCER.— ALARM  OF  THE  BRITISH. 


437 


American  Revolution  began,  and,  though 
he  was  practising  as  a  doctor  with  suc 
cess,  he  gave  up  his  profession,  and  vol 
unteered  to  bear  arms  in  the  cause  of  the 
colonies.  In  1775  and  1776,  he  organ 
ized  and  commanded  large  bodies  of  the 
Virginia  militia;  and  on  the  5th  of  June, 
of  the  latter  year,  he  was  appointed  by 
Congress  a  brigadier-general.  He  was  an 
intimate  associate  of  Washington's  moth 
er  and  sister,  who  were  his  neighbors  at 
Fredericksburg,  and  highly  esteemed  by 
Washington  himself,  who  knew  him  as  a 
faithful  comrade  and  sincere  friend.  He 
spoke  of  him,  while  mourning  his  death, 
as  "  the  brave  and  worthy  General  Mer 
cer." 

Having  given  up  all  thought  of  march 
ing  immediately  upon  Bruns 
wick,  Washington  now  retired 
from  Princeton.  He  was  not  greatly  en 
cumbered  with  baggage,  for  that  of  his 
own  army  he  had  sent  to  Burlington,  and 
there  was  nothing  of  the  enemy's  to  take 
away  but  some  blankets,  shoes,  and  a  few 
other  trifling  articles.  The  two  fieldpieces 
which  had  been  captured  from  the  Brit 
ish  could  not  be  brought  away  for  the 
want  of  horses.  The  hay  and  "  other 
such  things"  as  the  shortness  of  the  time 
would  admit  were  destroyed,  and  then 
the  army  marched  out.  The  Americans 
proceeded  down  the  Millstone  river,  and 
halted  for  the  first  night  at  Somerset 
courthouse,  where  many  of  the  militia  on 
that  January  night  were  obliged  to  lie 
down  in  the  open  air  without  blankets, 
which  with  the  rest  of  their  baggage  had 
been  sent  to  Burlington. 

Next  morning,  Washington  marched  to 


Jan.  4. 


Pluckimen,  where  he  halted  for 
several  days.  The  hardships  of 
a  winter  campaign  would,  it  was  feared, 
discourage  the  militia,  as  well  might  be 
the  case,  when  they  were  day  after  day 
and  night  after  night  in  midwinter  with 
out  "  any  cover,"  and  many  of  the  "  poor 
soldiers  quite  barefoot  and  ill  clad  in  oth 
er  respects. . .  They  have  undergone,  how 
ever,"  says  Washington,  "more  fatigue 
and  hardship  than  I  expected  militia,  es 
pecially  citizens,  could  have  done  at  this 
inclement  season." 

Earl  Cornwallis  was  in  a  state  of  great 
alarm  for  the  safety  of  his  stores,  maga 
zines,  and  well -filled  military  chest,  at 
Brunswick.  He  pushed  on  with  his  whole 
army,  in  the  greatest  speed,  to  save  them. 
The  camp  at  Trenton  was  broken  up  and 
totally  abandoned.  Princeton  was  en 
tered,  and,  after  a  check  from  the  battery 
of  the  American  rear-guard  which  delayed 
him  over  an  hour,  Cornwallis  hurried  on 
again,  and  by  forced  marches  (here  and 
there  retarded  by  the  want  of  bridges, 
which  Washington  had  taken  care  to  de 
stroy)  reached  Brunswick. 

The  enemy  seemed  to  be  panic-struck, 
and  Washington  was  in  "  some  hopes  of 
driving  them  out  of  the  Jerseys."  In  or 
der  to  effect  this,  he  wrote  to  General 
Putnam,  then  at  Philadelphia,  and  also  to 
General  Heath  at  Peekskill,  to  co-operate 
with  him  in  his  design.  To  the  former 
he  says :  "  It  is  thought  advisable 
for  you  to  march  the  troops  un 
der  your  command  to  Crosswicks,  and 
keep  a  strict  watch  upon  the  enemy  in 
that  quarter.  If  the  enemy  continue  at 
Brunswick,  you  must  act  with  great  cir- 


Jau.  5. 


438 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Jail.  5. 


cumspection,  lest  you  meet  with  a  sur 
prise.  As  we  have  made  two  successful 
attacks  upon  them  by  surprise,  if  there  is 
any  possibility  of  retaliating,  they  will  at 
tempt  it.  You  will  give  out  your  strength 
to  be  twice  as  great  as  it  is.  Forward  on 
all  the  baggnge  and  scattered  troops  be 
longing  to  this  division  of  the  army,  as 
soon  as  may  be. 

"  You  will  keep  as  many  spies  out  as 
you  may  see  proper.  A  number  of  horse 
men  might  be  kept  going  backward  and 
forward  for  this  purpose  ;  and  if  you  dis 
cover  any  motion  of  the  enemy  which 
you  can  depend  upon,  and  which  you 
think  of  consequence,  let  me  be  informed 
thereof  as  soon  as  possible  by  express." 
To  General  Heath  Washington  wrote  : 
"  The  enemy  are  in  great  con 
sternation  ;  and,  as  the  panic  af 
fords  us  a  favorable  opportunity  to  drive 
them  out  of  the  Jerseys,  it  has  been  de 
termined  in  council  that  you  should  move 
down  toward  New  York  with  a  consider 
able  force,  as  if  you  had  a  design  upon 
the  city."  It  was  hoped  that,  by  such  a 
diversion,  the  British  would  be  obliged  to 
draw  a  large  part  of  their  force  from  New 
Jersey,  for  the  protection  of  New  York. 
General  Lincoln  was  ordered,  after  leav 
ing  four  thousand  of  the  New-England 
militia  with  Heath,  to  cross  the  Hudson 
with  the  remainder,  and  march  them  to 
join  the  commander-in-chief  at 
Morristown,  where  he  had  now 
moved  his  troops. 

Washington  had  gone  to  Morristown, 
as  the  place  best  calculated  in  that  quar 
ter  to  accommodate  and  refresh  his  army. 
Its  resources  proving  less  than  he  expect- 


Jan.  6. 


ed,  and  his  men  becoming  so  impatient 
from  the  severity  of  the  season  and  their 
consequent  sufferings,  that  they  left  him 
in  considerable  numbers,  he  thought  of 
removing.  He  finally  determined,  how 
ever,  to  take  up  his  winter-quarters  at  the 
place,  for  he  did  not  know  where  else  to 
procure  covering  for  his  troops.  Wilkin 
son  says :  "  This  position,little  understood 
at  the  time,  was  afterward  discovered  to 
be  a  most  safe  one  for  the  winter-quarters 
of  an  army  of  observation,  and  such  was 
General  Washington's.  The  approach  to 
it  from  the  seaboard  is  rendered  difficult 
and  dangerous  by  a  chain  of  sharp  hills, 
which  extend  from  Pluckimen  by  Bound- 
brook  and  Springfield  to  the  vicinity  of 
the  Passaic  river ;  it  is  situate -in  the  heart 
of  a  country  abounding  with  forage  and 
provisions,  and  is  nearly  equidistant  from 
New  York  and  Amboy,  and  also  from  New 
ark  and  New  Brunswick,  with  defiles  in 
rear  to  cover  a  retreat  should  circum 
stances  render  it  necessary." 

Washington,  on  arriving  at  Morristown, 
repeated  his  orders  to  General  Heath  in 
regard  to  advancing  on  the  city  of  New 
York,but  suggested  that  General  Lincoln 
should  remain  with  him,  instead  of  ac 
companying  the  New-England  detach 
ment  ordered  to  Morristown.  Heath  at 
once  began  to  make  his  dispositions  in  ac 
cordance  with  Washington's  orders.  He 
moved  his  troops  down  from  Peekskill, 
advancing  them  gradually  toward  New 
York.  On  one  day  a  regiment  is  marched 
to  Newcastle,  and  on  another  the  militia 
is  ordered  to  White  Plains.  Again,  "  our 
general,"  as  he  always  designates  himself, 
moves  to  the  southward,  and  arrives  at 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         "OUR  GENERAL"  ADVANCES  AND  RETREATS. 


439 


Newcastle  before  sunset.  Soon  he  is  again 
on  the  march,  and  "  our  general"  reaches 
the  outposts  of  the  enemy  at  Fort  Inde 
pendence  and  Kingsbridge,  where  his 
three  divisions  have  also  arrived:  "Gen 
eral  Lincoln's  on  the  heights  above  Colo 
nel  Van  Cortland's;  Wooster's  at  Wil- 
liams's ;  and  Scott's  on  the  back  of  Vol- 
en tine's."  Here  occurred  an  engagement, 
which  we  shall  allow  Heath  to  describe 
in  his  own  words:  — 

"  Our  general,  who  moved  with  the  cen 
tre  division,  knew  that  Yolentine's  house 
was  the  quarters  of  one  of  the  guards ; 
he  did  not  know  but  it  might  be  defend 
ed.  As  he  approached  it,  he  ordered  Cap 
tain  Bryant  to  advance  a  fieldpiece  to  the 
advance-guard,  and,  if  there  was  any  op 
position  from  the  house,  to  cannonade  it 
immediately.  He  then  ordered  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  men  from  the  head  of  the 
column  (as  it  was  moving  on)  to  incline 
to  the  right,  and  by  a  double  step  to  push 
into  the  hollow,  between  the  house  and 
the  fort,  to  cut  off  the  guard  who  were  at 
the  house,  in  case  they  should  run  tow 
ard  the  latter.  At  this  instant,  two  lightr 
horsemen,  who  had  been  sent  out  by  the 
enemy  as  the  day  broke  to  reconnoitre 
the  vicinity,  came  unexpectedly,  at  the 
descent  of  a  hill,  plump  upon  the  head 
of  Wooster's  column.  They  attempted  to 
turn  about,  but,  before  it  could  be  fully 
effected,  a  fieldpiece  was  discharged  at 
them :  one  of  them  was  pitched  from  his 
horse  and  taken  prisoner ;  the  other  gal 
loped  back  to  the  fort,  hallooing  as  he 
passed,  '  The  rebels  !  the  rebels !'  This 
set  all  the  outguards  and  pickets  running 
to  the  fort,  leaving  in  some  places  their 


arms,  blankets,  tools,  provisions,  &c.,  be 
hind  them.  Those  who  fled  from  Volen- 
tine's  and  the  Negro  fort  were  fired  at  as 
they  ran,  but  none  were  killed  :  one  who 
could  not  run  so  fast  as  the  rest  was  ta 
ken  prisoner.  Ten  muskets  were  taken 
at  Volentine's  house.  The  guard  above 
Van  Cortland's  was  as  completely  sur 
prised  as  the  others,  where  General  Lin 
coln  took  about  forty  arms,  some  blan 
kets,  &c.,  &c. 

"The  left  and  centre  divisions  moved  in 
to  the  hollow,  between  Volentine's  house 
and  the  fort,  from  whence  our  general  im 
mediately  sent  a  summons  to  the  com 
manding  officer  of  the  fort  to  surrender." 
As  "  our  general"  modestly  withholds  the 
lofty  words  he  used  on  that  occasion,  we 
here  supply  them  :  "  Forty  minutes  only," 
said  Heath,  "  can  be  allowed  for  the  gar 
rison  to  give  their  answer;  and, should  it 
be  in  the  negative,  they  must  abide  the 
consequences."  No  answer  was  given ; 
and  the  only  consequence  which  followed 
was  the  firing  of  a  gun  at  an  outpost ! 

In  a  few  days,  General  Heath,  with  all 
his  usual  skill  in  tactics,  drew  back  his 
army  up  the  Hudson — having  learned 
from  a  soi-disant  deserter  that  Governor 
Sir  Guy  Carleton's  Canadian  troops  had 
lately  arrived  in  New  York  by  water,  and 
that  a  detachment  from  Rhode  Island,  un 
der  Lord  Percy,  was  about  to  land  in 
Westchester  county.  Fearful  of  being 
thus  surrounded,  and  threatened  by  "  the 
appearance  of  a  severe  snowstorm  com 
ing  on,"  Heath  cautiously  retired.  "  Our 
general,"  who  prided  himself  upon  being, 
above  all  things,  a  good  tactician,  could 
hardly  have  felt  flattered  by  this  criticism 


440 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


from  Washington  on  these  late  manoeu 
vres  :  "  This  letter,"  he  says,  writing  to 
Heath,  "is  in  addition  to  my  public  one 
of  this  date.  It  is  to  hint  to  you,  and  I 
do  it  with  concern,  that  your  conduct  is 
censured  (and  by  men  of  sense  and  judg 
ment,  who  have  been  with  you  on  the 
expedition  to  Fort  Independence)  as  be 
ing  fraught  with  too  much  caution,  by 
which  the  army  has  been  disappointed, 
and  in  some  degree  disgraced.  Your 
summons,  as  you  did  not  attempt  to  ful 
fil  your  threats,  was  not  only  idle,  but 
farcical,  and  will  not  fail  of  turning  the 
laugh  exceedingly  upon  us.  These  things 
I  mention  to  you  as  a  friend,  for  you  will 
perceive  that  they  have  composed  no  part 
of  my  public  letter.  Why  you  should  be 


so  apprehensive  of  being  surrounded,  even 
if  Lord  Percy  had  landed,  I  can  not  con 
ceive.  You  know  that  landing  men,  and 
procuring  horses,  are  not  the  work  of  an 
hour,  a  day,  or  even  a  week." 

Heath  had  a  word  to  say  for  himself: 
"  Every  officer,"  he  declares,  "  objected  to 
a  storm,  as  they  apprehended  the  militia 
inadequate  to  such  enterprise."  In  his 
memoir,  Heath  says  that  his  "  success  at 
the  outposts  flew  through  the  country, 
and  was  soon  magnified  to  a  reduction  of 
the  fort  and  capture  of  the  garrison.  It 
reached  General  Washington  long  before 
the  official  account,  and  he  had  commu 
nicated  the  report  to  Congress ;  hence  a 
double  disappointment,  when  the  true 
state  of  facts  was  received."  • 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

The  Hessian  Prisoners. — Their  Reception. — Hootings  and  Revilings. — Interposition  of  Washington. — "  A  Very  Good 
Rebel." — Treatment  of  American  Prisoners. — Prison-Ships  at  New  York. — Disease  and  Death,  Famine  and  Filth, 
Robbery  and  Insult. — The  Waste-House. — Otho  Williams's  Experiences. — Ethan  Allen  a  Prisoner  in  New  York. — 
His  Emphatic  Opinion  of  Loring  and  of  Cunningham. — Washington  writes  to  General  Howe,  on  Behalf  of  the  Ameri 
can  Prisoners  at  New  York. — The  Letter. — General  Lee  at  New  York. — Exchange  proposed  and  refused. — Retaliation. 
— Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell  the  First  Victim. — His  own  Account  of  his  Sufferings. — Washington  disapproves  of 
the  Treatment  of  Campbell. — He  remonstrates  with  Congress. — The  Reply  of  that  Body. 


1777, 


THE  Hessian  prisoners,  who  had 
been  taken  after  the  successful  sur 
prise  at  Trenton,  were  carried  across  the 
Delaware,  and  then  sent  through  the  in 
terior  of  Pennsylvania  to  Winchester,  in 
Virginia.  As  they  passed  from  place  to 
place,  the  exasperated  common  people  of 
the  country,  looking  upon  them  with  hor 
ror  and  detestation  as  so  many  hired  rob 
bers  and  murderers,  hooted  and  reviled 


them  at  every  step.  Washington,  how 
ever,  with  a  feeling  of  humanity  and  a 
motive  of  policy,  ordered  notices  to  be 
posted  about  the  country,  calling  upon 
the  inhabitants  to  treat  the  Hessian  sol 
diers  with  kindness,  as  they  were  not  re 
sponsible  for  the  war,  but  mere  passive 
instruments  in  the  hands  of  a  tyrannical 
and  cruel  government.  It  was  hoped  that 
many  of  the  prisoners,  while  proceeding 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         HESSIAN  AND  AMERICAN  PRISONERS  CONTRASTED.  441 


through  Pennsylvania,  and  mingling  with 
the  German  population  of  that  province, 
mi  flit,  by  kindness  and  association  with 
those  speaking  their  own  language,  be 
conciliated  toward  the  American  cause. 
Washington's  interposition  was  not  with 
out  its  effect ;  for  "  from  this  time,"  con 
fesses  a  Hessian  officer,  "  things  went  bet 
ter  with  us.  Every  clay  came  many  out 
of  the  towns,  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor, 
and  brought  us  provisions,  and  treated  us 
with  kindness  and  humanity."*  They  felt 
grateful  to  Washington  for  a  treatment 
which  was  so  much  beyond  their  expec 
tations,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  style  him 
"  a  very  good  rebel."f 

The  American  prisoners  in  the  hands 
of  their  British  captors  met  with  a  very 
different  fate.  Those  who  had  been  ta 
ken  at  the  surrender  of  Fort  Washington 
were  driven  through  the  streets  of  New 
York,  amid  the  hootings  and  revilings  of 
soldiers'  tribes  and  other  vagabonds,  male 
and  female,  who  are  always  hanging,  like 
so  many  screeching  vultures,  about  an  ar 
my,  and  living  upon  its  plunder  and  cor 
ruption.  "  Which  is  Washington  ?  which 
is  Washington?"  cried  these  ill-omened 
creatures,  who  believed  that  the  war  was 
at  an  end,  and  that  the  American  leader 
himself  was  among  those  who  were  thus 
exposed  to  their  foul  aspersions. 

The  men  were  thrust  in  crowds  into 
the  prison -ships,  churches,  and  sugar- 
houses.  Here  they  were  enclosed  within 
bare  walls,  scantily  supplied  with  provis 
ions  of  bad  quality,  wretchedly  clothed, 
and  destitute  of  sufficient  fuel,  if  indeed 
they  had  any.  Disease  was  the  inevita- 

*  Quoted  by  Irving.  •(  Timelier. 

5G 


ble  consequence,  and  the  prisons  where 
the  American  captives  were  immured  soon 
became  hospitals.  A  fatal  malady  was 
generated,  and  the  mortality  thence  en 
suing  was  enormous.  Some  fifteen  hun 
dred  prisoners  were  supposed  to  have  per 
ished  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  in  the 
city  of  New  York  !  The  dead,  too,  were 
treated  with  brutal  dishonor ;  their  bod 
ies  being  allowed  to  lie  in  numbers  un 
co  ffined  and  exposed,  to  the  horror  of 
their  living  comrades,  and  to  the  jeers  of 
the  insulting  enemy. 

Some  of  the  American  officers  had  less 
to  complain  of,  and  were  enabled  to  en 
joy  "  the  benefit  of  free  air  and  the  use 
of  their  limbs."  Graydon,  who  was  a 
prisoner  in  New  York  at  that  time,  says  : 
"  I  ventured  to  take  boarding  at  four  dol 
lars  per  week.  I  knew  that  I  had  an  ex 
cellent  banker  in  Philadelphia,  and  that 
if  specie  was  to  be  procured,  my  good 
mother  would  take  care  to  get  it  and 
send  it  to  me."  But  all  had  not,  like 
Graydon,  the  specie  of  a  banker,  or  the 
more  sterling  fund  of  a  mother's  affection, 
to  draw  upon.  Graydon,  too,  with  the 
clever  tact  of  a  man  of  the  world,  suc 
ceeded  in  conciliating  the  good  will  of 
the  oppressors,  by  whom  he  was  treated 
with  exceptional  indulgence,  although 
not  seldom  "  berebelled."  The  fate  of 
others  was  more  cruel. 

Many  of  the  American  officers  were 
plundered  of  their  baggage,  robbed  of 
their  side-arms,  hats,  and  cockades,  and 
otherwise  grossly  ill  treated.  A  Major 
Otho  Holland  Williams,  of  Colonel  Raw- 
lings's  rifle-regiment,  was  one  of  those 
who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy 


442 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


after  the  surrender  of  Fort  Washington. 
He  and  three  companies  of  the  regiment 
were  put  on  board  the  Baltic  merchant 
man,  used  as  a  hospital-ship,  and  then  ly 
ing  in  Long-island  sound.  Here  he  was 
placed  upon  such  a  small  allowance  of 
food,  that  he  was  only  saved  from  fam 
ishing  by  "  a  pittance  of  pork  and  pars 
nips"  which  a  good-natured  sailor  spared 
from  his  own  mess.  In  a  few  days,  Wil 
liams  and  his  companions  were  taken 
ashore,  and,  having  been  put  into  one 
common  dirt-cart,  were  dragged  through 
the  city  of  New  York,  amid  the  hootings 
of  the  crowd,  to  an  old  "waste-house," 
near  the  Bridewell.  Here  they  were  glad 
to  find  a  rest  from  the  insults  and  suffer 
ings  which  they  had  endured,  although 
it  was  in  a  place  which,  from  its  "  open 
ness  and  filthiness,"  had  a  few  months  be 
fore,  while  Washington  was  in  possession 
of  the  city,  been  refused  as  barracks  for 
the  private  soldiers.  Such  officers  as  had 
not  the  banking  facilities  or  the  maternal 
resources  of  Graydon,  were  obliged  to  take 
their  board  in  the  "waste-house,"  and  con 
tent  themselves  with  "six  ounces  of  pork, 
one  pound  of  biscuit,  and  some  peas,  per 
day,  and  two  bushels  and  a  half  of  sea- 
coal  per  week,  for  each."  Such  ill-condi 
tioned  quarters  and  meager  fare  soon  had 
their  natural  effect  upon  the  health  of 
the  officers. 

Ethan  Allen's  great  stalwart  frame  had 
lost  its  robustness ;  and  his  gay  suit  of 
blue-and-gold,  which  had  been  bestowed 
upon  him  by  his  admirers  in  Cork,  hung 
loosely  upon  his  body,  collapsing  under 
his  meager  prison-diet.  After  his  capture 
in  Canada,  and  a  voyage  to  England  and 


thence  back  to  Halifax,  Allen  had  been 
conveyed  to  New  York,  where  he  was 
now  a  prisoner,  startling  both  friend  and 
foe  with  his  emphatic  denunciations  and 
his  stories  of  his  strange  adventures  and 
doughty  deeds.  No  doubt  his  British  jail 
ers  congratulated  themselves  upon  hav 
ing  caged  so  formidable  a  fellow.  There 
must  have  been  something  to  be  dreaded 
in  one  who  could  growl  so  fiercely  and 
bite  so  effectively.  His  captors  he  sav 
agely  denounced,  and  particularly  Loring, 
the  British  commissary  of  prisoners,  say 
ing  :  "  He  is  the  most  mean-spirited,  cow 
ardly,  deceitful,  and  destructive  animal,  in 
God's  creation  below ;  and  legions  of  in 
fernal  devils,  with  all  their  tremendous 
horrors,  are  impatiently  ready  to  receive 
Howe  and  him,  with  all  their  detestable 
accomplices,  into  the  most  exquisite  ago 
nies  of  the  hottest  regions  of  hell-fire  !" 
Of  Cunningham,  the  provost-marshal,  he 
said  that  "  he  was  as  great  a  rascal  as  the 
army  could  boast  of."  and  other  testimony 
seems  to  confirm  Allen's  opinion  ;  for  this 
British  official  wTould  stride  about  the 
prison,  whip  in  hand,  and  send  the  pris 
oners  to  bed  as  if  they  had  been  so  many 
hounds,  with  the  cry — "  Kennel,  ye  sons 
of  bitches!  kennel,  G-dd — n  ye  !"*  That 
Allen's  persecutors  might  be  made  con 
scious  that  "his  bite  was  as  good  as  his 
bark,"  he  used  to  show  a  fracture  in  one 
of  his  teeth,  occasioned  by  his  twisting 
off  with  it,  in  a  fit  of  anger,  the  nail  which 
fastened  the  bar  of  his  handcuffs,  while  in 
irons  on  shipboard  !  "  D — n  him,  can  he 
eat  iron  ?"  was  the  exclamation  of  his  as 
tonished  listeners. 

*  Graydon. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WASHINGTON  REMONSTRATES. 


443 


Washington,  hearing  of  the  treatment 
of  the  American  prisoners  at  New  York, 
immediately  wrote  to  General  Sir  William 
Howe,  denouncing  it,  and  threatening  re 
taliation  in  case  it  was  not  changed  for 
the  better.  Those  prisoners,  who  had  re 
cently  been  restored  to  liberty,  "  give  the 
most  shocking  account,"  writes  Washing 
ton,  "of  their  barbarous  usage,  which  their 
miserable,  emaciated  countenances  con 
firm If  you  are  determined,"  he  says 

to  Howe,  "  to  make  captivity  as  distres 
sing  as  possible,  let  me  know  it,  that  we 
may  be  upon  equal  terms,  for  your  con 
duct  must  and  shall  regulate  mine."  To 
the  admiral,  Lord  Howe,  Washington  has 
also  occasion  to  write,  in  consequence  of 
the  complaint  of  a  Captain  Sanble,  of  the 
ill  treatment  which  he  and  other  naval 
prisoners  had  suffered.  In  these  words 
of  dignified  remonstrance  his  lordship  is 
addressed :  "  From  the  opinion  I  have 
ever  been  taught  to  entertain  of  your 
lordship's  humanity,  I  will  not  suppose 
that  you  are  privy  to  proceedings  of  so 
cruel  and  unjustifiable  a  nature;  and  I 
hope  that,  upon  making  the  proper  in 
quiry,  you  will  have  the  matter  so  regu 
lated,  that  the  unhappy  persons  whose 
lot  is  captivity  may  not  in  future  have 
the  miseries  of  cold,  disease,  and  famine, 
added  to  their  other  misfortunes.  You 
may  call  us  rebels,  and  say  that  we  de 
serve  no  better  treatment ;  but  remem 
ber,  my  lord,  that,  supposing  us  rebels, 
we  still  have  feelings  as  keen  and  sensi 
ble  as  loyalists,  and  will,  if  forced  to  it, 
most  assuredly  retaliate  upon  those  up 
on  whom  we  look  as  the  unjust  invaders 
of  our  rights,  liberties,  and  properties.  I 


should  not  have  said  thus  much,  but  my  in 
jured  countrymen  have  long  called  upon 
me  to  endeavor  to  obtain  a  redress  of 
their  grievances ;  and  I  should  think  my 
self  as  culpable  as  those  who  inflict  such 
severities,  were  I  to  continue  silent." 

General  Lee,  who  had  been  at  New 
York  ever  since  his  surprise  and  capture 
by  the  British,  was  kept  a  close  prisoner, 
being  considered  by  Sir  William  Howe 
as  a  deserter.  Lee,  however,  was  not 
brought  to  trial,  as  it  was  doubted  wheth 
er,  by  his  public  resignation  of  his  half- 
pay  as  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  British 
service,  previous  to  his  acceptance  of  a 
commission  in  the  American  army,  he  was 
still  amenable  to  military  law  for  deser 
tion.  Howe  informed  the  English  minis 
try  of  his  doubts,  and  received  this  per 
emptory  answer :  "  As  you  have  difficul 
ties  about  bringing  General  Lee  to  trial 
in  America,  it  is  his  majesty's  pleasure 
that  you  send  him  to  Great  Britain  by  the 
first  ship-of-war."  In  the  meantime,  how- 
ever,Washington  had  refused  to  exchange 
the  Hessian  field-officers  taken  at  Tren 
ton,  or  Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell,  un 
less  General  Lee  was  recognised  as  a  pris 
oner-of-war.  Howe,  in  consequence,  fear 
ing  that  his  German  troops  might  grow 
discontented  if  their  officers  should  suffer 
from  Washington  retaliating  upon  them 
for  the  treatment  of  Lee,  waited  for  fur 
ther  instructions  from  the  home  govern 
ment  before  sending  him  away.  The  next 
despatch  from  the  British  minister  was  in 
these  words  :  "  His  majesty  consents  that 
Lee  (having  been  struck  off  the  half-pay 
list)  shall,  though  deserving  the  most  ex 
emplary  punishment,  be  deemed  as  a  pris- 


444 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


oner-of-war,  and  may  be  exchanged  as 
such,  when  you  may  think  proper." 

It  is  but  just  to  state  that  both  Lord 
Howe,  the  admiral,  and  Sir  William  Howe, 
the  commander  of  the  land-forces,  indig 
nantly  repelled  all  responsibility  for  the 
ill  treatment  of  the  American  prisoners 
in  their  hands.  His  lordship  emphatical 
ly  declared  :  "  I  abhor  every  imputation 
of  wanton  cruelty  in  multiplying  the  mis 
eries  of  the  wretched,  or  of  treating  them 
with  needless  severity."  Sir  William  in 
sisted  that  the  prisoners  were  "  provided 
with  proper  habitations,  sufficient  and 
wholesome  food,  and  medicines."  The 
illness  and  speedy  death  of  many  were, 
however,  not  denied.  Those  gentlemen 
were,  no  doubt,  guiltless  of  the  inhuman 
ity  of  direct  and  intentional  cruelty,  al 
though  they  were  justly  held  responsible 
for  the  sufferings  (probably  somewhat  ex 
aggerated)  caused  by  their  agents. 

During  the  early  period  of  General 
Lee's  imprisonment,  Sir  William  Howe, 
while  awaiting  instructions  from  his  gov 
ernment,  resisted  all  appeals  toward  miti 
gating  the  severity  of  his  captivity.  Five 
Hessian  officers  were  offered  in  exchange 
for  Lee,  but  refused.  Congress  accord 
ingly  determined  to  retaliate,  and  Wash 
ington  wrote  to  General  Howe  :  "  I  must 
give  you  warning  that  Major-General  Lee 
is  looked  upon  as  an  officer  belonging  to 
and  under  the  protection  of  the  United 
Independent  States  of  America  ;  and  that 
any  violence  you  may  commit  upon  his 
life  or  liberty  will  be  severely  retaliated 
upon  the  lives  or  liberties  of  the  British 
officers,  or  those  of  their  foreign  allies,  at 
present  in  our  hands." 


Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell,  who  had 
been  taken  prisoner  on  board  a  transport 
captured  off  Boston,  was  the  first  to  suf 
fer.  He  was  lodged  in  the  common  jail 
of  Concord,  and  there  treated  as  if  he  had 
been  a  criminal  condemned  for  the  most 
atrocious  crimes.  His  dungeon  was  but 
twelve  or  thirteen  feet  square,  and  shut 
out  from  the  adjoining  yard  by  two  doors, 
with  double  locks  and  bolts.  Although 

O 

it  was  in  the  depth  of  winter,  the  window 
was  barred  only  with  iron,  and  unglazed. 
He  had,  however,  an  inner  apartment,  but 
this  was  described  as  "  a  loathsome,  black 
hole,  decorated  with  a  pair  of  fixed  chains," 
from  which  its  former  occupant,  a  felon, 
had  just  been  removed,  leaving  his  litter 
and  filth  behind  him.  "The  attendance 
of  a  single  servant,"  said  Campbell,  in  a 
letter  to  General  Howe, "is  also  denied 
me,  and  every  visit  from  a  friend  posi 
tively  refused.  In  short,  sir,  was  a  fire 
to  happen  in  any  chamber  of  the  jail  — 
which  is  all  wood,  the  chimney-stacks  ex- 
cepted — I  might  perish  in  the  flames  be 
fore  the  jailer  could  go  through  the  cer 
emony  of  unbolting  the  doors  ;  although, 
to  do  him  justice,  in  his  station,  I  really 
think  him  a  man  of  humanity  :  his  house 
is  so  remote,  that  any  call  from  within, 
especially  if  the  wind  was  high,  might  be 
long  of  reaching  him  effectually." 

This  was  certainly  hard  treatment  for 
a  colonel  in  the  British  army,  and  a  mem 
ber  of  Parliament,  and  one  who  had  as 
yet  been  guiltless  of  American  blood. 
Washington  remonstrated  with  the  coun 
cil  of  Massachusetts  for  this  excessive  se 
verity,  reminding  them  that  Campbell, 
according  to  the  act  of  Congress,  was  to 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WASHINGTON  APPEALS  TO  CONGRESS. 


445 


have  exactly  the  same  treatment  as  was 
received  by  General  Lee;  and,  as  that 
officer  was  "  only  confined  to  a  commo 
dious  house,  with  genteel  accommoda 
tions,"  there  was  no  right  or  reason  in  be 
ing  more  severe  upon  Colonel  Campbell, 
whom  "  I  should  wish,"  adds  Washington, 
"  should  immediately  upon  the  receipt  of 
this  [letter]  be  removed  from  his  present 
situation,  and  put  in  a  house  where  he 
may  live  comfortably." 

To  Congress  Washington  also  wrote, 
strongly  denouncing  this  treatment  of 
Campbell,  as  a  retaliation  which  had 
been  prematurely  begun.  On  the  point 
of  policy,  apart  from  the  inhumanity,  he 
condemned  it.  "The  balance  of  prison 
ers,"  he  says,  "  is  greatly  against  us ;  and 
a  general  regard  to  the  happiness  of  the 
whole  should  mark  our  conduct.  Can  we 
imagine  that  our  enemies  will  not  mete 
the  same  punishments,  the  same  indigni 
ties,  the  same  cruelties,  to  those  belong 
ing  to  us,  in  their  possession,  that  we  im 
pose  on  theirs  in  our  power  ?  Why  should 
we  suppose  them  to  possess  more  human 
ity  than  we  have  ourselves?  Or  why 
should  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  relieve 
the  distresses  of  one  brave,  unfortunate 
man,  involve  many  more  in  the  same  ca 
lamities  ?  However  disagreeable  the  fact 
may  be,  the  enemy  at  this  time  [March 
1]  have  in  their  power,  and  subject  to 
their  call,  near  three  hundred  officers  be 
longing  to  the  army  of  the  United  States. 
In  this  number  there  are  some  of  high 
rank,  and  most  of  them  are  men  of  brave 
ry  and  of  merit.  The  quota  of  theirs  in 
our  hands  bears  no  proportion,  being  not 
more  than  fifty  at  most.  Under  these 


circumstances,  we  should  do  no  act  to 
draw  upon  the  gentlemen  belonging  to 
us,  and  who  have  already  suffered  a  long 
captivity,  greater  punishments  than  they 
have  experienced  and  now  experience. 
If  we  should,  what  will  their  feelings  be, 
and  those  of  their  numerous  and  exten 
sive  connections  ? 

"Suppose  the  treatment  of  the  Hessians 
should  be  pursued,  will  it  not  establish 
what  the  enemy  have  been  aiming  to 
effect  by  every  artifice  and  the  grossest 
misrepresentation — I  mean  an  opinion 
of  our  enmity  toward  them,  and  of  the 
cruel  conduct  they  experience  when  they 
fall  into  our  hands,  a  prejudice  which  we 
on  our  part  have  heretofore  thought  it 
politic  to  suppress  and  root  out  by  every 
act  of  lenity  and  kindness  ?  It  certainly 
will.  The  Hessians  would  hear  of  the 
punishments  with  all  the  circumstances 
of  heightened  exaggeration ;  would  feel 
the  injury,  without  investigating  the  cause 
or  reasoning  upon  the  justice  or  necessity 
of  it.  The  mischiefs,  which  may  and  must 
inevitably  flow  from  the  execution  of  the 
resolves,  appear  to  be  endless  and  innu 
merable."  Thus  was  the  judicious  Wash 
ington  always  humane  in  his  policy ;  and 
if  politic  in  his  humanity,  it  was  only  to 
avoid  sacrificing  the  broad  philanthropy 
of  a  patriot  to  the  personal  benevolence 
of  the  sentimentalist. 

Congress,  on  the  receipt  of  this  letter, 
resolved  "that  General  Washington  be 
informed  that  Congress  can  not  agree  to 
any  alteration  in  the  resolve  passed  on 
the  6th  of  January."  This  resolve  was, 
"  that  the  board  of  war  be  directed  im 
mediately  to  order  the  five  Hessian  field- 


446 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


officers  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell 
into  safe  and  close  custody,  it  being  the 
unalterable  resolution  of  Congress  to  re 
taliate  on  them  the  same  punishment  as 
may  be  inflicted  on  the  person  of  General 
Lee."  In  regard,  however,  to  the  com 


plaints  of  Colonel  Campbell,  Congress 
deigned  to  declare  that  it  was  never  their 
intention  that  he  should  suffer  any  other 
hardship  than  such  confinement  as  was 
necessary  for  his  security,  to  carry  out 
the  object  of  their  resolve. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

Increased  Popularity  of  the  American  Cause  in  New  Jersey. — General  Howe  responsible  for  the  Violation  of  the  Rights 
of  Property. — His  Manifesto  of  Rapine. — American  Scoundrels,  too. — Washington  checks  and  punishes  them. — His 
Order  against  Disorder. — His  Proclamation  to  the  People  of  New  Jersey. — Its  Effect. — Nothing  but  Skirmishes. — 
Lord  Cornwallis. — His  Chain  of  Posts. — His  Force. — The  American  Line  and  Posts. — Successful  Skirmishes  with  the 
Enemy. — General  Philemon  Dickinson. — His  Position  and  that  of  his  Brother. — The  Martial  Brother. — His  Engage 
ment  with  the  British  Plunderers. — Communications  between  the  Opposing  Armies. — A  Letter  from  General  Lee. — 
His  Proposition. — Refused  by  Congress. — Lee's  Disappointment  and  Sombre  Reflections. — Washington  regrets  the 
Refusal  of  Congress. — General  Putnam's  Ruse  to  magnify  his  Force  in  the  Eyes  of  the  Enemy. — A  College  Illumina 
tion. — The  Effect. — The  Meager  American  Force. — Fewer  Men  than  Miles  to  guard. — Tardy  Reinforcements. — 
Wants. — French  Applicants  for  Commissions — General  Arnold  in  Rhode  Island. — An  Abortive  Plan. — New  Regi 
ments  and  New  Officers. — Take  none  but  Gentlemen. — Five  New  Major- Generals. 


1777, 


THE  American  cause  had  greatly 
increased  in  popularity  among  the 
New-Jersey  people.  The  Hessian  and  Brit 
ish  troops  spared  neither  friend  nor  foe 
in  their  cruel  devastations ;  and,  although 
Sir  William  Howe  could  scarcely  have 
been  such  a  monster  of  iniquity  as  to 
justify  the  brutalities  practised  by  his 
soldiery  upon  the  defenceless  mothers, 
wives,  and  daughters,  of  the  country,  he 
clearly  made  himself  responsible  for  the 
violation  of  the  rights  of  property  when 
he  issued  such  orders  as  this:  — 

"  All  salted  meat  and  provisions,  which 
may  be  judged  to  exceed  the  quantity 
necessary  for  the  subsistence  of  an  ordi 
nary  family,  shall  be  considered  as  a  mag 
azine  of  the  enemy,  and  seized  for  the 


king,  and  given  to  the  troops  as  a  saving 
for  the  public." 

This  allowed  a  wide  latitude  to  the  pro 
pensities  of  a  soldiery  for  plunder,  whose 
only  control  was  the  word  of  command, 
and  who  looked  for  no  principle  of  action 
beyond  the  order  of  the  day.  The  Amer 
ican  army  had  its  brutal  vagabonds,  too, 
eager  to  rob  and  destroy ;  but  in  Wash 
ington  their  commander  they  ever  found 
one  who,  with  a  scrupulous  regard  to  the 
rights  of  person  and  property,  was  at  all 
times  prompt  to  punish  with  severity  the 
least  violation  of  them.  It  was  this  which 
greatly  aided  now  in  conciliating  to  the 
American  cause  the  people  of  New  Jer 
sey,  who,  though  afflicted  by  the  horrors 
of  war,  triumph  who  might,  could  yet  dis- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         PROCLAMATIONS.— THE  OPPOSING  ARMIES. 


447 


tinguish  between  a  brutality  licensed  by 
authority  and  that  which  was  emphatic 
ally  denounced  and  threatened  with  pun 
ishment. 

Washington,  indignant  at  the  conduct 
of  some  of  his  troops,  issued  the  following 
emphatic  order :  "  The  general 
prohibits,  in  both  the  militia  and 
continental  troops,  in  the  most  positive 
terms,  the  infamous  practice  of  plunder 
ing  the  inhabitants,  under  the  specious 
pretence  of  their  being  tories.  Let  the 
persons  of  such  as  are  known  to  be  ene 
mies  to  their  country  be  seized  and  con 
fined,  and  their  property  disposed  of  as 
the  law  of  the  state  directs.  It  is  our 
business  to  give  protection  and  support 
to  the  poor,  distressed  inhabitants,  not  to 
multiply  and  increase  their  calamities. 
After  the  publication  of  this  order,  any 
officer,  either  militia  or  continental,  found 
attempting  to  conceal  the  public  stores, 
plundering  the  inhabitants  under  the  pre 
tence  of  their  being  tories,  or  selling  at 
vend ue  plunder  taken  from  the  enemy, 
in  any  other  manner  than  these  orders 
direct,  may  expect  to  be  punished  in  the 
severest  manner."  Copies  of  this  order 
were  then  immediately  circulated  among 
all  the  troops. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  favorable  dis 
position  of  the  people,  Washington  now 
issued  a  proclamation,  in  which 
he  called  upon  all  those  who, 
while  the  British  forces  were  in  the  as 
cendant  in  New  Jersey,  had  signed  decla 
rations  of  fidelity  to  the  king  of  Great 
Britain,  to  come  forward  and  take  an  oath 
of  allegiance  to  the  United  States  of  Amer 
ica.  Those,  however,  who  preferred  "  the 


Jan,  25* 


interest  and  protection  of  Great  Britain 
to  the  freedom  and  happiness  of  their 
country,"  were  told  to  withdraw  them 
selves  and  their  families  forthwith  within 
the  enemy's  lines.  Many  of  the  people 
gladly  welcomed  this  opportunity  of  giv 
ing  their  names  to  a  cause  in  which  their 
hearts  were  already  engaged  ;  while  oth 
ers,  who  had  only  been  able  to  secure 
British  protection  by  swearing  allegiance 
to  the  king,  hesitated,  not  because  they 
were  less  friendly,  but  more  scrupulous. 
Some  of  the  substantial  farmers  of  the 
country  had  thus  committed  themselves ; 
and  now,  although  their  hearts  had  been 
won  over  to  Washington,  they  felt  com 
pelled  to  withhold  their  hands. 

Beyond  an  occasional  skirmish,in  which 
the  Americans  not  seldom  got  the  advan 
tage,  there  was  little  opportunity  for  ac 
tion,  as  Sir  William  Howe,  with  his  usual 
caution  or  indolence,  was  not  disposed  to 
move.  Lord  Cornwallis,  with  the  main 
body  of  the  army,  was  at  New  Brunswick, 
wrhile  his  communication  Avith  the  Hud 
son  river  and  New  York  was  kept  up  by 
means  of  a  chain  of  small  posts.  His  force 
was  great — not  less,  it  was  supposed,  than 
eight  thousand.  The  Americans,  with 
their  fluctuating  militia,  were  constantly 
varying  in  number ;  which,  however,  was 
never  large,  seldom  over  four  thousand, 
and  at  times  reduced  as  low  as  fifteen 
hundred.  But  the  enemy  thought  them 
much  more  numerous ;  and,  fortunately, 
they  had  been  favorably  impressed  by 
their  prowess  in  the  occasional  skirmish 
es  which  had  occurred. 

The  whole  line  of  Washington's  army 
was  widely  extended ;  he  himself 


448 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


with  the  centre  and  main  body  at  Morris- 
town,  while  General  Putnam  commanded 
the  right  at  Princeton, and  General  Heath 
the  left  in  the  Highlands.  From  these 
different  points  occasional  small  detach 
ments  (generally  militia,  for  the  sake  of 
breaking  them  gradually  into  warfare) 
would  be  sent  out  to  harass  the  enemy's 
outposts,  and  to  pounce  upon  their  fora- 
ging-parties.  In  these  encounters,  the 
Americans,  with  the  advantage  of  a  thor 
ough  knowledge  of  the  country,  and  the 
sympathy  of  the  inhabitants,  were  gener 
ally  successful.  On  one  Sunday  morning, 
for  example,  some  fifty  Waldeckers  were 
fallen  in  with  by  about  the  same  number 
of  militia,,  and  so  taken  by  surprise,  that 
ten  of  the  enemy  were  killed  or  wounded, 
and  the  rest  taken  prisoners,  while  the 
Americans  came  off  without  the  least 
damage. 

On  another  occasion,  General  Philemon 
Dickinson,  by  a  gallant  little  action,  won 
from  the  commander  the  praise — "His 
behavior  reflects  the  highest  honor  upon 
him."  Dickinson  was  a  man  of  fortune 
and  influence,  belonging  to  New  Jersey, 
and  was  now  in  command  of  the  militia 
of  that  state.  He  was  brother  to  John 
Dickinson,  who,  although  an  earnest  po 
litical  writer  in  behalf  of  the  American 
cause,  opposed  (while  a  delegate  to  Con 
gress  from  Pennsylvania)  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  as  premature.  He,  in 
consequence,  lost  his  popularity,  but  nev 
er  his  patriotism.  His  spirit  was  not  of 
the  warlike  stamp  of  that  of  his  brother. 
"  Where  duty  and  honor  require  my  pres 
ence,"  said  John  Dickinson,  "  there  I  shall 
be;  but  much,  much  rather  would  I  choose 


that  these  severe  masters  would  give  me 
up  to  my  dear  connections,  my  books,  and 
my  friends,  an  intercourse  and  employ 
ment  for  which  my  constitution  is  better 
formed,  than  for  the  toils  of  war,  and  to 
cultivate  which  my  temper  is  more  dis 
posed,  than  to  relish  all  the  united  glo 
ries,  could  I  obtain  them,  of  every  heroic 
death  from  the  Roman  Curtius  to  the 
British  Wolfe." 

The  martial  brother  had  just  now  dis 
tinguished  himself,  though  not  in  a  way 
to  rival  a  Curtius  or  a  Wolfe,  still  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  all  praise.  General 
Dickinson  had  the  command  of  the  Amer 
ican  outpost  nearest  to  the  enemy  at  New 
Brunswick,  stationed  on  the  west  bank 
of  Millstone  river.  On  the  opposite  side 
was  a  mill,  with  a  large  stock  of  flour ; 
and  Cornwallis,  covetous  of  the  booty, 
had  sent  out  a  party  to  seize  it,  and  take 
whatever  other  plunder  they  could  lay 
their  hands  on.  Dickinson  was  on  the 
alert,  and,  heading  four  hundred  New- 
Jersey  militiamen,  plunged  into  the  river, 
and,  pouncing  upon  the  plunderers,  put 
them  to  rout,  and  relieved  them  of  forty 
wagons,  upward  of  a  hundred  horses  — 
"most  of  them  of  the  English  draughtr 
breed"  —  and  a  number  of  sheep  and  cat 
tle  which  they  had  collected.  The  ene 
my  returned,  with  nothing  to  carry  back 
to  the  camp  of  Cornwallis  but  "  a  good 
many  dead  and  wounded  in  light  wag 
ons." 

The  ordinary  communications  between 
opposing  armies  were  kept  up  during  this 
period  of  inactive  hostility.  Now 
Lord  Cornwallis  has  a  convoy  of 
money  and  stores  to  send  to  the  Hessian 


KEVOLUTTONAKY.]         CONGRESS  REFUSES  GENERAL  LEE'S  REQUEST. 


449 


prisoners,  and  wishes  a  safe-conduct  for 
it  through  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania. 
Washington  answers  his  lordship  that  no 
molestation  will  be  offered  by  any  part 
of  the  regular  army  under  his  command. 
"  But  I  can  not,"  he  says,  "  answer  for  the 
militia  who  are  resorting  to  arms  in  most 
part  of  this  state,  and  who  are  exceedingly 
exasperated  at  the  treatment  they  have 
met  with,  both  from  Hessian  and  British 
troops." 

Again,  flags  are  passing  to  and  fro,  and 
messengers  and  bearers  of  letters  coming 
and  going  between  the  hostile  camps. 
On  one  of  these  occasions  a  packet  ar 
rives  from  General  Lee,  containing  a  let 
ter  to  Congress  under  cover  of  one  to 
Washington,  who  is  most  earnestly  en 
treated  to  despatch  it  immediately,  and 
order  that  body  to  be  as  expeditious  as 
possible.  The  letter  to  Congress  contains 
the  request  from  General  Lee  that  two 
or  three  delegates  may  be  sent  immedi 
ately  to  New  York,  to  whom  he  had  to 
communicate  something,  as  he  avowed,  of 
the  greatest  importance.  What  it  was, 
Lee  did  not  say;  but  it  was  evidently 
something  concocted  between  him  and 
the  brothers  Howe,  for  he  declares  that 
these  commanders  would  grant  a  safe- 
conduct  to  the  gentlemen  sent.  Congress, 
probably  not  anxious  for  the  second  time 
to  play  a  part  in  such  a  frivolous  negoti 
ation  as  was  the  result  of  the  swelling 
preliminaries  arranged  by  General  Sulli 
van  and  Lord  Howe,  resolved  that  it  was 
inexpedient  to  send  any  of  their  members 
1o  confer  with  Lee.  Notwithstanding, 
the  imprisoned  general  reiterated  his  re 
quest,  and  was  a  second  time  answered 

57 


with  a  refusal.  Lee's  captivity  had  given 
him  an  opportunity  of  reflecting  upon  the 
uncertainty  of  all  human  greatness ;  and 
1iis  manner,  if  we  may  judge  from  his  let 
ter,  had  lost  all  its  early  flash,  in  the  som 
bre  shadow  now  cast  over  his  thoughts. 
He  writes  to  Washington  in  this  subdued 
strain,  expressive  of  his  disappointment : 

"  It  is  a  most  unfortunate  circumstance 
for  myself,  and  I  think  not  less  so  for  the 
public,  that  the  Congress  have  not  thought 
proper  to  comply  with  my  request.  It 
could  not  possibly  have  been  attended 
with  any  ill  consequences,  and  might  with 
good  ones.  At  least,  it  was  an  indulgence 
which  I  thought  my  situation  entitled  me 
to.  But  I  am  unfortunate  in  everything, 
and  this  is  the  severest  I  have  yet  expe 
rienced.  God  send  you  a  different  fate ! 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  general.  Yours  most 
truly  and  affectionately, 

"  CHARLES  LEE." 

Washington  appears  to  have  sympa 
thized  with  Lee,  or,  at  any  rate,  not  to 
have  approved  of  the  resolve  of  Congress, 
for  he  says,  in  a  letter  to  Robert  Morris : 
"  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  that  Congress 
had  gratified  General  Lee  in  his  request. 
If  not  too  late,  I  wish  they  would  do  it 
still.  I  can  see  no  possible  evil  that  can 
result  from  it ;  some  good  I  think  might. 
The  request  to  see  a  gentleman  or  two 
came  from  the  general,  not  from  the  com 
missioner  ;  there  could  have  been  no  harm, 
therefore,  in  hearing  what  he  had  to  say 
on  any  subject,  especially  as  he  had  de 
clared  that  his  own  personal  interest  was 
deeply  concerned." 

During  these  communications  between 


450 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PAnT 


the  British  and  the  American  lines,  Wash 
ington  was  particularly  anxious  lest  the 
meairerness  of  his  force  should  be  disco v- 

O 

ered  by  the  enemy.  He  accordingly  in 
sisted  that  his  officers  should  avail  them 
selves  of  the  ordinary  military  expedient 
authorized  by  such  circumstances,  and 
give  out  the  strength  of  the  army  to  be 
twice  as  great  as  it  was.  General  Put 
nam,  who  was  stationed  at  Princeton,  now 
that  he  had  been  deserted  by  a  large 
party  of  New-Jersey  militia,  and  left  with 
only  a  meager  remnant  of  troops,  had  es 
pecial  reason  to  bear  in  mind  the  order 
of  his  commander-in-chief.  A  British  offi 
cer,  who  was  lying  mortally  wyounded  in 
Putnam's  camp,  requested  the  privilege 
of  a  visit  from  a  friend  and  comrade  sta 
tioned  at  Brunswick,  under  Lord  Corn- 
wallis.  The  request  was  granted.  A  flag 
was  sent,  and  returned  witli  the  wound 
ed  man's  friend.  lie  was,  however,  not 
allowed  to  enter  Princeton  until  he  was 
blindfolded,  and  the  night  had  advanced. 
General  Putnam,  mindful  of  Washing 
ton's  orders,  and  not  indisposed  to  exer 
cise  his  Yankee  ingenuity  in  the  execu 
tion  of  a  ruse,  took  the  occasion  to  pro 
duce  an  impression,  the  largeness  of  which 
it  was  hoped  would  compensate  for  the 
smallness  of  the  American  force.  He  ac 
cordingly  had  a  light  put  in  every  room 
in  the  college-buildings,  and  of  the  empty 
houses  in  the  town,  and  kept  his  handful 
of  men  so  noisily  parading  about,  that  the 
British  visitor  returned  to  the  camp  of 
Earl  Cornwallis  with  the  report  that  the 
Americans  at  Princeton  were  at  least  five 


thousand  strong  !* 


*  Irviiu 


Jan.  24. 


The  Americans,  indeed,  had  every  rea 
son  to  strengthen  themselves  in  the  eyes 
of  the  enemy  with  imaginary  reinforce 
ments,  for  the  real  troops  came  in  but 
slowly  to  take  the  place  of  those  rapidly 
departing.  Putnam,  at  one  time,  had  few 
er  men  than  miles  of  frontier  to  guard  ! 
The  militia  were  constantly  in  a  state  of 
fluctuation.  "  We  have  a  full  army  one 
day,"  says  Washington,  "  and  scarce  any 
the  next ;  and  I  am  much  afraid  that  the 
enemy,  one  day  or  the  other,  taking  ad 
vantage  of  one  of  these  temporary  weak 
nesses,  will  make  themselves  masters  of 
our  magazines  of  stores,  arms,  and  artil 
lery.  Nothing  but  their  ignorance  of  our 
numbers  protects  us  at  this  very 
time;  when,  on  the  contrary,  had 
we  six  or  eight  thousand  regular  troops, 
or  could  the  militia,  who  were  with  me  a 
few  clays  ago,  have  been  prevailed  upon 
to  stay,  we  could  have  struck  such  a  stroke 
as  would  have  inevitably  ruined  the  army 
of  the  enemy,  in  their  divided  state." 

The  reinforcements  came  in  so  extreme 
ly  slow,  there  was  at  times  actually  dan 
ger  (in  the  interval  of  the  dissolution  of 
the  old  and  the  organization  of  the  new 
army)  that  Washington  might  be  left  en 
tirely  destitute  of  men  !  Under  these  cir 
cumstances,  he  wrote  in  the  most  urgent 
manner  to  the  governors  of  the  several 
states  to  forward  on  their  regiments  with 
all  possible  expedition.  Although,  from 
the  supineness  of  the  enemy,  there  was  a 
long  cessation  of  active  hostility,  Wash 
ington  was  full  of  work.  On  one  day,  he 
is  writing  to  Governor  Trumbull,  of  Con 
necticut,  entreating  him  to  hasten  and 
equip  the  lines  from  that  state ;  and  to 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  NEW  ARMY. 


451 


Governor  Livingston,  suggesting  a  differ 
ent  organization  of  the  militia  of  New 
Jersey,  whose  "  officers  are  generally  of 
the  lowest  class  of  the  people,  and  instead 
of  setting  a  good  example  to  their  men, 
are  leading  them  into  every  kind  of  mis 
chief,  one  species  of  which  is  plundering 
the  inhabitants,  under  the  pretence  of 
their  being  tories." 

On  another  day,  the  general-in-chief  is 
writing  to  Congress  about  the  destitution 
of  the  commissariat  department,  from  the 
want  of  money  or  the  want  of  clothing ; 
or  about  the  exchange  of  prisoners,  the 
appointment  of  officers,  and  the  proper 
place  of  the  laboratories.  Again,  he  is 
beset  by  a  number  of  French  officers  who 
come  to  headquarters  applying  for  com 
missions  in  the  army.  "  This  evil,"  says 
Washington,  "  is  a  growing  one  ;  for,  from 
what  I  learn,  they  are  coming  in  swarms 
from  Old  France  and  the  islands.  There 
will,  therefore,  be  a  necessity  of  providing 
for  them,  or  discountenancing  them.  To 
do  the  first  is  difficult;  and  the  last  dis 
agreeable  and  perhaps  impolitic,  if  they 
are  men  of  merit;  and  it  is  impossible  to 
distinguish  these  from  mere  adventurers, 
of  whom  1  am  convinced  there  is  the 
greater  number." 

Then,  on  yet  another  day,  Washington 
is  conferring  by  letter  with  General  Ar 
nold  about  his  schemes  on  Rhode  Island. 
The  British  were  at  Newport,  to  the  num 
ber  of  six  thousand,  under  the  command 
of  Earl  Percy.  Arnold,  immediately  after 
his  arrival  from  the  North  at  the  camp  of 
Washington,  had  been  ordered,  in  con 
junction  with  General  Spencer,  to  take 
command  of  the  American  force  sent  to 


Rhode  Island.  This  consisted  of  some 
four  or  five  thousand  militia,  who  were 
now  encamped  at  Providence.  As  a  de 
tachment  had  been  ordered  away  from 
the  camp  of  the  British,  which  had  re 
duced  their  numbers  to  four  thousand, 
Arnold  and  Spencer  proposed  an  attack 
on  Rhode  island.  Washington,  upon  be 
ing  consulted,  examines  the  map  sent  to 
him,  together  with  the  plan  of  the  enter 
prise  ;  and,  after  suggesting  the  difficulty 
of  passing  a  body  of  water  to  attack  an 
enemy,  and  of  making  a  good  retreat  in 
case  of  repulse,  advises  that  the  assault 
should  not  be  made,  unless  with  a  strong 
probability,  amounting  almost  to  a  cer 
tainty,  of  success.  The  enterprise  was 
finally  given  up. 

The  subject, however,  which  was  upper 
most  in  Washington's  thoughts  at  this 
time,  was  the  recruitment  of  the  new  ar 
my.  To  this  he  was  directing  all  his  en 
ergies.  Eighty-eight  battalions,  accord 
ing  to  a  resolve  of  Congress,  were  to  be 
enlisted.  Colonel  Hazen  was  sent  to  su 
perintend  this  service  in  New  York  and 
the  New-England  states;  and  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Antill  in  New  Jersey,  Pennsylva 
nia,  Maryland,  and  Virginia.  With  these 
gentlemen  the  commander-in-chief  was 
frequently  communicating  by  letter,  ur 
ging  them  to  exert  themselves  as  much 
as  possible  in  filling  the  companies,  and 
sending  them  forward  with  the  utmost 
despatch.  Over  the  appointment  of  the 
officers  to  these  battalions  Washington 
had  but  little  control,  each  state  choosing 
its  own  according  to  its  quota  of  troops. 
There  were,  however,  sixteen  additional 
regiments,  where  the  choice  of  the  officers 


452 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


was  left  to  the  commander-in-chief.  He 
generally  contented  himself  with  the  ap 
pointment  of  the  colonels,  and  left  the 
subordinate  commissions  to  be  distributed 
by  them,  subject  to  his  approval.  Nathan 
iel  Gist,  John  Patton,  William  Grayson, 
Thomas  Hartley,  Samuel  B.  Webb,  David 
Henley  ,Ezekiel  CornellJIenry  Sherburne, 
Alexander  Scammel,  and  Henry  Jackson, 
were  the  colonels  appointed  in  January, 
and  they  were  now  busily  engaged  in  ob 
taining  men  and  officers  for  their  regi 
ments.  Colonel  Gist  was  authorized  to 
raise  four  companies  of  rangers,  and  was 
instructed  to  proceed  to  the  Cherokee  or 
any  other  nation  of  Indians  and  attempt 
to  procure  a  number  of  warriors,  not  ex 
ceeding  five  hundred,  who  were  to  be  sup 
plied  with  arms  and  blankets,  and  paid 
like  the  continental  troops.  There  was, 
however,  a  good  deal  of  reserve  on  the 
part  of  the  Americans  in  availing  them 
selves  of  the  aid  of  the  Indians;  and  du 
ring  the  whole  war  the  British,  with  less 
scruple,  always  succeeded,  by  their  pro 
fuse  largesses,  in  obtaining  a  preponder 
ance  of  savage  auxiliaries. 

While  Washington  gave  his  colonels 
the  privilege  of  choosing  their  officers,  he 
earnestly  recommended  them  to  be  cir 
cumspect  in  their  choice.  "  Take  none," 
he  says,  "  but  gentlemen  ;  let  no  local  at 
tachments  influence  you ;  do  not  suffer 
your  good  nature,  when  an  application  is 
made,  to  say  '  Yes,'  when  you  ought  to 
say  l  No ;'  remember  that  it  is  a  public, 
not  a  private  cause,  that  is  to  be  injured 
or  benefited  by  your  choice ;  recollect, 
also,  that  no  instance  has  yet  happened 
of  good  or  bad  behavior  in  a  corps  in  our 


service,  that  has  not  originated  with  the 
officers.  Do  not  take  old  men,  nor  yet 
fill  your  corps  with  boys,  especially  for 
captains." 

Washington  had  constantly  urged  up 
on  Congress  the  necessity  of  hastening 
the  appointment  of  the  general  officers. 
"  We  have  very  little  time,"  he  says,  "  to 
do  a  very  great  work  in  ;"  and  tells  them 
that,  if  they  are  withholding  the  commis 
sions  from  parsimonious  principles,  they 
are  mistaken.  He,  with  a  delicate  reserve, 
did  not  pretend  to  direct  the  choice  of 
Congress,  but  could  not  refrain  from  sug 
gesting  the  names  of  two  officers  for  thf 
new  appointments:  General  Cadwallader, 
whom  he  pronounces  a  man  of  ability,  a 
good  disciplinarian,  firm  in  his  principles, 
and  of  intrepid  bravery ;  and  Colonel  Reed, 
whom  he  recommends  for  the  command 
of  the  horse,  as  a  person  in  every  respect 
qualified. 

Congress  finally  responded  to  these  ur 
gent  appeals  of  the  commander-in-chief, 
and  appointed  five  major-gener- 
als.  These  were  Stirling,  Mifllin, 
St.  Clair,  Stephen,  and  Lincoln.  Two  days 
after,  eighteen  brigadier- generals  were 
chosen,  namely  :  Poor,  Glover,  Patterson, 
Learned,  Varnum,  Huntington,  Clinton, 
Wayne,  DeHaas,CadAvallader,Haucl,Eeed, 
Weedon,  Muhlenberg,  Woodford,  Scott, 
Nash,  and  Conway.the  latter  an  Irishman. 
Cadwallader,  however,  did  not  accept  the 
appointment.  Even  this  act  of  Congress, 
as  we  shall  find,  served  to  add  to  the  em 
barrassment  and  anxious  cares  of  Wash 
ington.  Jealousies  were  excited  and  dis 
appointments  created,  which  the  chief  was 
called  upon  to  remove  and  allay. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  BRITISH. 


453 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 

Activity  of  the  Enemy. — Lord  Percy  arrives  at  Amboy. — Sir  "William  Howe  in  New  Jersey. — "  Some  Push"  intended. — 
Its  Purpose  uncertain. — Washington  persuaded  that  Philadelphia  is  the  Object  of  the  British. — More  American  Forces, 
or  "  the  Game  at  an  End." — The  Indolent  Howe  true  to  his  Character. — The  Americans  on  the  Alert. — Skirmishes. — 
Success  of  Nielson  of  Brunswick. — Washington's  Skilful  Management. — Lauded  in  Europe. — Botta's  Opinion. — Gen 
eral  Arnold's  Non-Promotion. — Washington  takes  up  his  Cause. — Arnold's  own  Protestations. — He  asks  for  a  Court 
of  Inquiry. — Washington  opposes,  and  gives  Good  Advice. — Not  taken  by  Arnold,  who  persists. — Discontent  of  other 
Officers,  who  are  soothed  by  Washington. — Difficulties  in  Recruiting. — A  Remarkable  Letter. — The  Small-Pox  in  the 
Army. — Inoculation. — Its  Mild  Effects. — Want  of  Arms. — A  Timely  Arrival  from  France. — Resignation  of  Colonel 
Joseph  Reed. — General  Gates  offers  his  Services  to  Washington. — A  Dilemma,  from  which  Gates  is  relieved. — He  is 
appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  Forces  at  Ticonderoga. — Irascibility  of  General  Schuyler. — He  is  rebuked  by  Con 
gress. — Alexander  Hamilton  appointed  Secretary  to  Washington. 


1777, 


Feb.  20, 


THERE  was  now  some  appearance 
of  activity  on  the  part  of  the  ene 
my.  A  detachment  of  their  troops,  un 
der  Lord  Percy,  with  several  pieces  of 
heavy  artillery,  had  moved  from  Newport, 
Rhode  Island,  and  landed  at  Am 
boy.  Sir  William  Howe,  too,  had 
forsaken  his  snug  quarters  at  New  York, 
with  its  convivial  delights,  and  come  over 
the  Hudson.  It  was  now  probable  that, 
with  a  force  of  nearly  eight  thousand  men 
in  New  Jersey,  and  the  reinforcements 
just  landed  and  marching  to  join  them, 
General  Howe  was  "on  the  point  of  ma 
king  some  push."  Whether  his  object 
was  to  beat  up  the  American  quarters 
and  extend  his  own,  to  make  a  large  for 
age  and  collection  of  provender  of  which 
the  enemy  were  in  great  want,  or  to  cross 
the  Delaware  with  the  view  of  marching 
to  Philadelphia,  could  not  be  determined. 
Washington  was  on  the  alert,  but  nat 
urally  anxious,  when  he  knew  his  force 
was  so  small  as  to  be  quite  unequal  to  a 
successful  opposition.  Sir  William  Howe 
would  surely  move  forward,  thought  the 


American  general,  with  Philadelphia  as 
his  object.  The  British  were  at  least  ten 
thousand  strong.  The  Americans  were 
only  four  thousand.  The  former  were 
well  disciplined,  well  officered,  and  well 
appointed ;  the  latter  raw  militia,  badly 
officered, and  under  no  government.  Gen 
eral  Howe's  numbers,  it  was  true,  could 
not  in  any  short  time  be  increased.  As 
for  Washington's,  "they  must  be,"  he  said, 
"  very  considerably,  and  by  such  troops 
as  we  can  have  reliance  upon,  or  the  game 
is  at  an  end."  With  what  propriety,  then, 
can  the  enemy  miss  so  favorable  an  op 
portunity  of  striking  a  heavy  blow  at 
Philadelphia,  from  which  the  Americans 
are  deriving  so  many  advantages,  and  the 
carrying  of  which  would  give  such  eclat 
to  the  British  arms  ?  "  The  longer  it  is 
delayed,"  wrote  Washington,  who  believed 
the  attack  was  almost  certain,  "  the  bet 
ter  for  us,  and  happy  shall  I  be  if  am  de 
ceived." 

Sir  William  Howe  did  not,  however,  be 
lie  his  reputation  for  indolence.  He  can 
toned  his  reinforcements  with  the  rest  of 


454 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


his  army  at  Brunswick  and  the  adjacent 
posts,  and  sat  down  to  contemplate  his 
magnificent  designs  for  a  future  campaign. 
The  Americans,  notwithstanding,  were  vi 
gilant,  and  attentive  at  their  several  posts 
to  guard  against  surprises ;  while  every 
preparation  for  resistance  was  made  that 
the  feeble  state  of  their  little  army  ad 
mitted  of.  Small  skirmishes  continued  ; 
and,  although  in  one  week  a  militia-guard 
in  Monmouth,  near  the  Hook,  is  taken  by 
a  party  of  British  troops,  in  the  next  full 
revenge  is  obtained  by  the  success  of  Colo 
nel  Nielson,  of  Brunswick.  This  officer, 
with  a  small  detachment  of  militia,  sallies 
out  and  takes  by  surprise  Major  Stockton, 
of  General  Skinner's  corps  of  New-Jersey 
royalists,  whom  he  captures,  together  with 
fifty-nine  of  his  men,  and  all  their  arms. 

Thus  was  presented,  during  the  Avhole 
winter,  "  the  extraordinary  spectacle  of  a 
powerful  army,  straitened  within  narrow7 
limits  by  the  phantom  of  a  military  force, 
and  never  permitted  to  transgress  those 
limits  with  impunity,  in  which  skill  sup 
plied  the  place  of  means,  and  disposition 
was  the  substitute  for  an  army."*  The 
conduct  of  Washington  was  everywhere 
greatly  extolled.  Botta,  the  Italian  his 
torian  of  America,  expresses  the  admira 
tion  with  which  it  was  appreciated  in  Eu 
rope  : — 

"Achievements  so  astonishing  gained 
for  the  American  commander  a  very  great 
reputation,  and  were  regarded  with  won 
der  by  all  nations,  as  well  as  by  the  Amer 
icans.  Every  one  applauded  the  prudence, 
the  firmness,  and  the  daring,  of  General 
Washington.  All  declared  him  the  sav- 

*  Alexander  Hamilton. 


iour  of  his  country ;  all  proclaimed  him 
equal  to  the  most  renowned  commanders 
of  antiquity,  and  especially  distinguished 
him  by  the  name  of  the  American  Falim. 
His  name  was  in  the  mouths  of  all  men, 
and  celebrated  by  the  pens  of  the  most 
eminent  writers.  The  greatest  person 
ages  in  Europe  bestowed  upon  him  praise 
and  congratulation.  Thus  the  American 
general  wanted  neither  a  noble  cause  to 
defend,  nor  an  opportunity  for  acquiring 
glory,  nor  the  genius  to  avail  himself  of 
it,  nor  a  whole  generation  of  men  com 
petent  and  well  disposed  to  render  him 
homage."* 

Horace  Walpole  wrote  thus  to  Mann : 
"Washington,  the  dictator,has  shownliim- 
self  both  a  Fabius  and  a  Camillus.  His 
march  through  our  lines  is  allowed  to 
have  been  a  prodigy  of  generalship." 

In  the  list  of  the  new  major-generals 
chosen  by  Congress,  the  name  of  Arnold 
had  been  omitted,  although  those  thus 
appointed  wrere  all  his  juniors  in  rank. 
This  gave  Washington  great  concern,  and 
he  wrrote  to  Richard  Henry  Lee,  a  mem 
ber  of  Congress  from  Virginia :  "  I  am 
anxious  to  know  whether  General  Ar 
nold's  non-promotion  wras  owing  to  acci 
dent  or  design  ;  and  the  cause  of  it.  Sure 
ly  a  more  active,  a  more  spirited  and  sen 
sible  officer,  fills  no  department  in  yotu 
army.  Not  seeing  him,  then,  in  the  list 
of  major-generals,  and  no  mention  made 
of  him,  has  given  me  uneasiness;  as  it  is 
not  to  be  presumed,  being  the  oldest  brig 
adier,  that  he  will  continue  in  service  un 
der  such  a  slight,"  Fearing  the  effect  of 
this  neglect  upon  the  irascible  temper  of 

*  Quoted  by  Sparks. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


GENERAL  ARNOLD'S  NON-PROMOTION. 


455 


Arnold,  Washington  wrote  to  entreat  him 
not  to  take  any  hasty  steps,  and  he  would 
use  his  best  endeavors  to  remedy  any  er 
ror  that  might  have  been  committed. 

Arnold,  after  courteously  acknowledg 
ing  Washington's  interposition  in  his  be 
half,  expresses  his  sense  of  the  wrong  he 
has  suffered  by  a  self-complacent  state 
ment  of  his  fastidious  conscientiousness, 
his  sensibility  to  disgrace,  and  the  claims 
he  has  upon  his  country  for  his  patriotic 
services.  "  My  commission,"  writes  Ar 
nold,  "  was  conferred  unsolicited,  and  re 
ceived  with  pleasure  only  as  a  means  of 
serving  my  country.  With  equal  pleas 
ure  I  resign  it,  when  I  can  no  longer  serve 
my  country  with  honor.  The  person  who, 
void  of  the  nice  feelings  of  honor,  will 
tamely  condescend  to  give  up  his  right, 
and  retain  a  commission  at  the  expense 
of  his  reputation,  I  hold  as  a  disgrace  to 
the  army,  and  unworthy  of  the  glorious 
cause  in  which  we  are  engaged.  When 
I  entered  the  service  of  my  country,  my 
character  was  unimpeached.  I  have  sac 
rificed  my  interest,  ease,  and  happiness, 
in  her  cause.  It  is  rather  a  misfortune, 
than  a  fault,  that  my  exertions  have  not 
been  crowned  with  success.  I  am  con 
scious  of  the  rectitude  of  my  intentions. 
In  justice,  therefore,  to  my  own  charac 
ter,  and  for  the  satisfaction  of  my  friends, 
I  must  request  a  court  of  inquiry  into  my 
conduct ;  and,  though  I  sensibly  feel  the 
ingratitude  of  my  countrymen,  yet  every 
personal  injury  shall  be  buried  in  my 
zeal  for  the  safety  and  happiness  of  my 
country,  in  whose  cause  I  have  repeated 
ly  fought  and  bled,  and  am  ready  at  all 
times  to  risk  my  life." 


Washington,  who  was  fully  conscious 
of  Arnold's  ability,  and  had  at  that  time 
no  reason  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  his 
professions  of  patriotism,  was  anxious  to 
place  him  in  the  position  to  which  he  was 
thought  to  be  entitled.  The  commander- 
in-chief  continued  to  solicit  his  friends  in 
Congress  to  repair  the  wrong  supposed 
to  have  been  done  to  that  officer,  and  re 
quested  General  Greene,  who  was  then 
at  Philadelphia,  to  investigate  the  causes 
which  had  influenced  their  action.  The 
only  satisfaction  obtained  was  the  pro 
fessed  motive,  on  the  part  of  the  mem 
bers  of  Congress,  of  proportioning  the 
general  officers  to  the  number  of  troops 
supplied  by  each  state,  and  the  explana 
tion  that,  as  Connecticut  had  already  two 
major-generals,  it  was  necessary  to  pass 
Arnold  by.  Washington,  in  answer  to 
Arnold's  demand  for  a  court  of  inquiry, 
replied  that  he  could  not  see  upon  what 
ground  he  could  ask  it,  as  no  particular 
charge  was  alleged  against  him.  Public 
bodies  are  not  amenable  for  their  actions. 
They  place  and  displace  at  pleasure  ;  and 
all  the  satisfaction  that  an  individual  can 
obtain,  when  he  is  overlooked,  is,  if  inno 
cent,  a  consciousness  that  he  has  not  de 
served  such  treatment  for  his  honest  ex 
ertions. 

This  was  a  kind  of  advice  which  came 
naturally  from  the  upright  mind  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  but  which  was  far 
from  calming  the  perturbed  spirit  of  Ar 
nold.  The  purest  air  of  heaven  will  only 
inllame  an  angry  sore  :  an  appeal  to  con 
science  gives  no  relief  to  a  corrupt  heart. 
Arnold  was  obliged  to  give  up  all  hopes 
of  a  court  of  inquiry  ;  but  he  determined 


456 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|  PART    II. 


to  visit  headquarters,  and  obtain  permis 
sion  from  Washington  to  proceed  to  Phil 
adelphia,  and  seek  an  investigation  into 
the  cause  of  the  treatment  which  had  so 
disappointed  his  ambition  and  stirred  his 
anger. 

There  were  others  besides  Arnold  who 
had  been  wronged,  as  they  supposed,  by 
being  passed  over  in  the  recent  appoint 
ments  by  Congress.  Washington  strove  to 
soothe  the  wounded  sensibilities  of  these 
latter  as  he  had  those  of  the  former.  Brig 
adier-General  Andrew  Lewis  had  reason 
to  expect  promotion  to  a  major-general 
ship.  He  had  been  disappointed.  Wash 
ington  writes  to  him:  "Let  me  beseech 
you  to  reflect  that  the  period  is  now  ar 
rived  when  our  most  vigorous  exertions 
are  wanted ;  when  it  is  highly  and  indis 
pensably  necessary  for  gentlemen  of  abil 
ities  in  any  line,  but  more  especially  in 
the  military,  not  to  withhold  themselves 
from  public  employment,  or  suffer  any 
small  punctilios  to  persuade  them  to  re 
tire  from  their  country's  service."  Gen 
eral  Lewis,  however,  did  not  yield  to  this 
patriotic  appeal,  but  resigned  his  commis 
sion,  which  was  accepted  by  Congress. 
Again,  William  Woodford,  although  pro 
moted  to  the  rank  of  brigadier-general, 
was  named  after  two  of  his  juniors.  In 
this  instance  also,  Washington,  anticipa 
ting  a  wound  to  Woodford's  feelings,  en 
deavors  to  divert  him  from  all  personal 
considerations,  by  invoking  the  generosi 
ty  of  his  patriotism.  "  Trifling  punctil 
ios,"  he  says,  "  should  have  no  influence 
upon  a  man's  conduct  in  such  a  cause, 
and  at  such  a  time  as  this.  If  smaller 
matters  do  not  yield  to  greater,  if  trifles 


Mar,  15, 


light  as  air  in  comparison  with  what  we 
are  contending  for,  can  withdraw  or  with 
hold  gentlemen  from  service,  when  our 
all  is  at  stake,  and  a  single  cast  of  the  die 
may  turn  the  tables,  what  are  we  to  ex 
pect  ?" 

A  remarkable  letter,  written  about  this 
time  by  Washington  to  General 
Sullivan,  shows  the  vexations  to 
which  he  must  have  been  subjected  by 
the  jealous  rivalries  and  fancied  slights 
of  some  of  the  officers  under  his  command. 
"  Do  not,  my  dear  General  Sullivan,"  says 
Washington,  "torment  yourself  any  long 
er  with  imaginary  slights,  and  involve 
others  in  the  perplexities  you  feel  on  that 
score.  No  other  officer  of  rank,  in  the 
whole  army,  has  so  often  conceived  him 
self  neglected,  slighted,  and  ill  treated,  as 
you  have  done  •  and  none,  I  am  sure,  ha^ 
had  less  cause  than  yourself  to  entertain 
such  ideas.  Mere  accidents,  things  which 
have  occurred  in  the  common  course  of 
service,  have  been  considered  by  you  as 
designed  affronts Why  these  unrea 
sonable,  these  unjustifiable  suspicions  — 
suspicions  which  can  answer  no  other  end 
than  to  poison  your  own  happiness,  and 
add  vexation  to  that  of  others  ?  —  But  I 
have  not  time  to  dwell  upon  a  subject  of 
this  kind.  I  shall  quit  it  with  an  earnest 
exhortation  that  you  will  not  suffer  your 
self  to  be  teased  with  evils  that  only  ex 
ist  in  the  imagination,  and  with  slights 
that  have  no  existence  at  all."  Sullivan 
was  vain,  and  sensitive,  as  all  vain  men 
are  ;  but,  as  he  was  a  sincere  patriot  and 
a  faithful  friend  of  Washington,  it  is  not 
doubted  but  that  he  took  this  severe  les 
son  in  good  part,  and  benefited  by  it. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         SMALL-POX  IN  THE  ARMY.— ARMS  FROM  FRANCE. 


Iii  addition  to  these  troubles  on  the 
score  of  the  officers,  Washington  was 
much  perturbed  by  the  difficulties  and 
obstructions  which  interfered  with  the 
recruiting  of  his  new  army.  The  spring 
had  already  opened ;  and  yet  such  was  the 
delay  in  the  enlistments,  that  Washing 
ton  expected  to  be  left  on  the  15th  of 
March  with  only  the  remains  of  five  Vir 
ginia  regiments,  containing  less  than  five 
hundred  men ;  parts  of  two  or  three  oth 
er  continental  battalions, "all  very  weak;" 
and  some  small  parties  of  New-Jersey  and 
Pennsylvania  militia,  on  which  but  little 
dependence  could  be  put,  as  they  "  come 

and  go  when  they  please The  enemy 

must  be  ignorant  of  our  numbers  and  sit 
uation,  or  they  would  never  suffer  us  to ' 
remain  unmolested,  and,"  adds  Washing 
ton,  "  I  almost  tax  myself  with  impru 
dence  in  committing  the  secret  to  paper." 

Nor  were  the  recruits  who  came  in  so 
slowly  and  in  such  scant  numbers  imme 
diately  available.  The  small-pox  hither 
to  had  created  terrible  ravages  among  the 
American  troops,  and  Washington  was 
determined  to  use  the  only  means  then 
known  to  protect  them  from  its  fatality. 
All  the  officers  and  soldiers  in  the  can 
tonment  at  Morristown  were  now  inocu 
lated,  and  each  recruit  as  he  came  in  was 
subjected  to  the  same  operation.  Whole 
regiments  were  thus  suffering  under  the 
disease  at  the  same  moment.  Fortunate 
ly,  little  or  no  mortality  ensued;  and  "  the 
disorder  Avas  so  slight,"  says  an  annalist, 
doubtless  with  some  exaggeration,  "  that 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  it  there 
was  not  a  single  day  in  which  they  could 
not,  and  if  called  upon  would  not,  have 


turned  out  and  fought  the  British."  If 
the  inoculated  had  been  able  to  take  the 
field,  they  could  not  have  brought  against 
their  enemy  a  more  formidable  powei 
than  the  terrors  of  the  dreadful  disease 
which  presented  its  horrid  front  in  the 
American  ranks. 

When  the  new  recruits  presented  them 
selves,  Washington  was  perplexed  to  find 
means  for  equipping  them.  The  old  regi 
ments,  at  the  expiration  of  their  term  of 
service,  returned  home,  taking  their  arms 
with  them.  How  to  provide  the  new  ar 
my  was  now  the  question,  which  was  so 
embarrassing,  that  all  began  to  consider 
it  with  dismay,  when  it  was  fortunately 

*/  '  »/ 

solved  by  the  arrival  of  a  supply  of  arms 
from  France.  One  ship,  escaping  all  the 
vigilance  of  the  British  cruisers,  had  ar 
rived  at  Portsmouth,  in  New  Hampshire, 
laden  with  a  cargo  consisting  of  twelve 
thousand  fusees,  one  thousand  barrels  of 
powder,  and  a  good  stock  of  blankets  and 
military  stores.  Another  French  vessel 
had  reached  Philadelphia  in  safety,  with 
six  thousand  fusees  for  the  United  States, 
and  five  thousand  for  sale  on  private  ac 
count.  The  whole  army  could  now  be 
equipped,  and  there  was  no  longer  any 
anxiety  on  the  score  of  arms. 

Colonel  Joseph  Reed's  resignation  as 
adjutant- general,  although  it  was  wel 
comed  by  a  large  number  of  New -Eng 
land  men  (with  whom,  in  the  course  of 
the  sectional  jealousies  in  the  army,  he 
had  incurred  great  unpopularity),  was  a 
serious  loss  to  the  service,  and  a  source 
of  perplexity  to  Washington.  There  was 
difficulty  in  finding  for  that  important 
office  a  successor  of  equal  efficiency  with 


458 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


its  former  active  incumbent.  President 
Hancock  wrote  to  General  Gates,  propo 
sing  that  he  should  atmin  become  the 

o  O 

adjutant-general,,  a  position  to  which  he 
had  been  appointed  on  the  organization 
of  the  first  American  army.  Gates's  as 
pirations  had  in  the  meanwhile  risen  to 
a  greater  height.  He  evidently  was  not 
flattered  by  Hancock's  proposition.  His 
vexation  was  ill  concealed  beneath  a  pro 
fession  of  willingness  to  serve,  in  a  letter 
which  he  wrote  to  Washington  :  "  I  own," 
he  writes,  referring  to  the  letter  of  the 
president  of  Congress,  "  I  was  surprised 
at  the  contents ;  and  the  more  so,  as  it 
was  not  preceded  by  one  on  the  same 
subject  from  your  excellency.  Unless  it 
is  vour  earnest  desire  that  such  a  meas- 

*«/ 

ure  should  directly  take  place,  I  could  by 
no  means  consent  to  it." 

Washington  wrote  to  General  Gates  in 
answer :  "  Although  I  often  wished  in  se 
cret  that  you  could  be  brought  to  resume 
the  office  of  adjutant-general,!  never  even 
hinted  it,  because  I  thought  it  might  be 
disagreeable  to  you,  for  the  reason  which 
you  yourself  mention — that  you  'com 
manded  last  campaign  at  the  second  post 
upon  this  continent' — and  that  therefore 
it  might  be  looked  upon  by  you  as  a  deg 
radation.  But  you  can  not  conceive  the 
pleasure  I  feel  when  you  tell  me  that, '  if 
it  is  my  desire  that  you  should  resume 
your  former  office,  you  will  with  cheer 
fulness  and  alacrity  proceed  to  Morris- 
town.'  Give  me  leave  to  return  you  my 
sincere  thanks  for  this  mark  of  your  at 
tention  to  a  request  of  mine  which,  now 
you  give  me  an  opening,  I  make,  and  at 
the  same  time  assure  you  that  I  look  up- 


[PART    II. 

on  your  resumption  of  the  office  of  adju 
tant-general  as  the  only  means  of  giving 
form  and  regularity  to  our  new  army." 
The  frank  and  direct  manner  in  which 
Washington  took  Gates  at  his  word  might 
have  been  supposed  to  greatly  embarrass 
that  officer,  who  was  not  disposed  to  re 
strain  his  ambition  within  the  narrow 
bounds  of  a  subordinate  position.  The 
timely  appointment  of  the  command  of 
the  northern  army  at  Ticonderoga,  how 
ever,  relieved  him  from  the  apparent  di 
lemma  in  which  his  own  professions,  and 
Washington's  sincere  belief  in  them,  had 
placed  him.  Still,  there  is  reason  to  be 
lieve  that  General  Gates  had  anticipated 
this  means  of  escape  from  his  unpleasant 
situation,  and  that  he  was  eagerly  await 
ing  the  command  which  he  now  received 
when  offering  his  services  to  Washington 
in  the  humbler  position.  Timothy  Pick 
ering,  of  Massachusetts,  became  the  new 
adjutant-general. 

Gates  was  indebted  to  the  irascibility 
of  General  Schuyler  for  his  new  appoint 
ment.  Schuyler  had  involved  himself  in 
a  quarrel  with  Congress.  His  enemies 
had  been  industrious,  and  made  various 
charges  against  him.  He  insisted  upon 
resigning  his  commission,  but  Congress 
would  not  accept  his  resignation.  The 
surgeon  of  his  army,  a  Doctor  Striger,  had 
been  removed  from  his  office;  whereat 
Schuyler  is  greatly  angered,  and  writes 
to  Congress  :  "  As  Doctor  Striger  had  my 
recommendation  to  the  office  he  had  sus 
tained,  perhaps  it  was  a  compliment  due 
to  me  that  I  should  have  been  advised  of 
the  reason  of  his  dismission."  Colonel  Jo 
seph  Trumbull  had  insinuated  that  Gen- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        SCIIUYLER  AND  TRUMBULL.— ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 


459 


eral  Schuyler  had  suppressed  a  commis 
sion  intended  for  his  brother,  whereupon 
the  angry  commander  writes  to  Congress, 
complaining  of  the  base  insinuation,  and 
says :  "  I  hope  Congress  will  not  enter 
tain  the  least  idea  that  I  can  tamely  sub 
mit  to  such  injurious  treatment.  I  ex 
pect  they  will  immediately  do  what  is  in 
cumbent  on  them  on  the  occasion.  Un 
til  Mr.  Trumbull  and  I  are  upon  a  footing, 
I  can  not  do  what  the  laws  of  honor  and 
a  regard  to  my  own  reputation  render 
indispensably  necessary.  Congress  can 
put  us  on  a  par  by  dismissing  one  or  the 
other  from  the  service.":::  Congress  would 
not  gratify  this  pugnacious  desire  of  the 
general,  whereupon  he  is  vexed  to  ex 
ceeding  wrath,  and  tells  them — "  I  really 
feel  myself  deeply  chagrined  on  the  oc 
casion.  I  am  incapable  of  the  meanness 
he  [Colonel  Trumbull]  suspects  me  of; 
and  I  confidently  expected  that  Congress 
would  do  me  that  justice  which  it  was  in 
their  power  to  give,  and  which  I  humbly 
conceive  they  ought  to  have  done." 

For  awhile  Congress  passed  these  com 
munications  over  in  silence,  but  finally 
its  offended  dignity  vindicated  itself  by  a 
resolution,  in  which  certain  passages  in 
Schuyler's  letters  were  pronounced  "ill 
advised  and  highly  indecent,"  and  by  the 
appointment  of  Gates  to  supersede  Schuy- 
ler  in  the  command  of  the  northern  army. 
The  latter,  however,  lost  none  of  his  ar 
dor  in  behalf  of  his  country's  cause  ;  and, 
as  a  major-general  of  the  army,  he  con 
tinued  to  serve  with  undiminished  inter 
est  and  energy.  Stationed  at  Philadel 
phia,  he  was  busily  engaged  in  fortifying 

*  Quoted  by  Irving. 


the  southern  bank  of  the  Delaware,  and 
in  reorganizing  the  3ommissary  depart 
ment. 

Early  in  the  spring,  while  Washington 
was  still  at  Morristown,  young  ALEXANDER 
HAMILTON  became  one  of  his  aids-de-camp, 
and  was  received  into  what  is  technically 
called  his  "family."  General  Greene,  as 
we  have  seen,  had  been  early  struck  with 
the  skill  of  the  youthful  captain  of  artil 
lery,  and  had  spoken  of  him  with  admi 
ration  to  the  commander-in-chief.  Wash 
ington,  too,  at  White  Plains,  and  during 
the  perilous  retreat  through  New  Jer 
sey,  had  noticed  the  art  with  which,  in 
the  one  instance,  he  had  directed  the  con 
struction  of  the  works,  and,  in  the  other, 
the  daring  and  skill  with  which  he  had 
brought  his  guns  to  bear  upon  the  pur 
suing  enemy.  Young  as  he  was,  being 
only  twenty  years  of  age,  Hamilton  had 
already  become  a  marked  man.  He  had 
acquired  a  reputation  as  a  writer,  and 
Washington  gladly  availed  himself  of  his 
fluent  pen.  Colonel  Harrison  ("  the  old 
secretary,"  as  he  was  always  termed)  be 
ing  now  employed  in  other  service,  the 
new  aid-de-camp  took  his  place.  As  the 
commander-in-chief  never  allowed  any 
idlers  about  him,  he  took  care  that  the 
industry  and  capacity  of  his  young  sec 
retary  should  be  put  thoroughly  to  the 
test ;  and  that  •  they  were,  and  proved 
equal  to  the  trial,  no  one  has  ever  doubt 
ed.  It  was  left,  however,  for  an  aspiring 
descendant  and  biographer,  not  conten 
with  the  greatness  of  his  distinguished 
parent,  to  claim  for  him  that  which  be 
longs  to  Washington  himself 

The  two  other  members  of  the  chief's 


460 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


military  family  at  this  time  were  Colonels 
Meade  and  Tench  Tilghman,  both  men  of 
gallant  spirit  and  gentlemanly  bearing. 
Colonel  Robert  H.  Harrison,  the  former 
secretary,  although  frequently  employed 
in  other  service,  was  still  a  constant  wri 
ter  at  headquarters.  He  looked  with  ad 
miration  upon  his  youthful  successor, 
whom  he  styled  "  the  little  lion."  Wash 
ington  himself  is  said  to  have  often  in 
dulged  in  the  fond  expression  of  "my 


boy"  when  speaking  of  Hamilton,  to  whom 
he  became  warmly  attached,  and  whose 
great  abilities  and  sterling  integrity  he 
did  not  fail  fully  to  appreciate.  Hamil 
ton  is  described  at  this  time  as  "  a  youth, 
a  mere  stripling,  small,  slender,  almost 
delicate  in  frame."  His  vivacity  made 
him  the  favorite  companion  of  the  young, 
while  his  ripe  intelligence  and  great  in 
tellectual  powers  won  for  him  the  regard 
of  the  old. 


CHAPTER    XLV. 

The  Enemy  in  Canada. — Ticonderoga  or  Philadelphia  1 — Washington  and  Congress. — General  Howe  suffers  a  Collapse 
— Grand  Schemes. — Disappointment. — Pennsylvania  now  his  Object. — Invasion  by  Sea. — Possible  Co-operation  in  the 
Future  with  Forces  in  Canada. — Preparations  of  the  Enemy  for  the  Campaign. — Howe  tries  his  Strength. — An  Attack 
upon  Pcekskill  proposed. — A  Ruse. — Its  Success. — The  British  Fleet  and  Transports  up  the  Hudson. — The  Landing. 
— Retirement  of  General  M'Dougall. — The  Enemy  burn  and  destroy. — They  are  checked  by  Willett. — The  Loss. — 
The  Liveliness  of  the  British  in  New  Jersey. — Boundbrook  taken. — General  Lincoln  makes  good  his  Retreat. — The 
Expedition  to  Danhury. — The  People  aroused  to  Arms. — General  Arnold  to  the  Rescue. — The  Enemy  reach  Danhury. 
— The  Militia  march  out  as  the  British  march  in. — Fire  and  Rapine. — Revenge  provoked. — Terrible  Result. — Depart 
ure  of  the  Enemy  from  Danbury. — They  are  attacked  by  the  Provincials. — Fall  of  General  Wooster. — Arnold  in  Dan 
ger. — He  saves  himself  by  a  Timely  Shot. — Governor  Tryon  hurries  away  with  the  British. — Harassed  on  the  Route. 
— Embarkation. — The  Struggle  and  Loss. — Life  and  Character  of  Wooster. — Washington  hopeful. 


1777, 


IT  was  thought  probable  that  du 
ring  the  winter,  the  British  forces 
in  Canada,  under  Sir  Guy  Carleton  and 
General  Burgoyne,  taking  advantage  of 
the  frozen  lakes,  would  make  a  vigorous 
attack  upon  Ticonderoga.  To  provide 
against  it,  the  fifteen  new  battalions  to 
be  supplied  by  Massachusetts  were  or 
dered,  as  fast  as  they  were  raised,  to  be 
forwarded  to  the  North.  The  spring  was 
now  opening,  however ;  the  attack  by  the 
British  had  not  been  made ;  and  it  was 
conjectured  that,  secure  in  the  possession 
of  the  lakes,  the  greater  part  of  the  ene 
my's  force  would  be  drawn  from  Canada, 


by  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  that  Ticonder 
oga,  at  least  for  the  present,  would  be  dis 
regarded.  Washington  and  his  general 
officers  were  persuaded  that  the  deter 
mined  resolution  of  the  British  was  to 
take  possession  of  Philadelphia  as  soon  as 
the  roads,  after  the  spring  thaw,  became 
passable  for  their  artillery  and  wagons. 

Washington  considered  it  a  waste  of 
power  to  send  so  many  troops  to  Ticon 
deroga,  and  acccordingly  ordered  eight 
of  the  battalions  originally  intended  for 
that  post  to  be  sent  to  Peekskill,  on  the 
Hudson  river.  A  concentration  of  force 
here  would  be  advantageous,  to  give  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  PLANS  OF  GENERAL  HOWE. 


461 


required  support  to  the  army  of  the  east 
ern  or  middle  states.  Should  the  enemy 
strive  to  penetrate  the  country  up  the 
North  river,  the  troops  at  Peekskill  would 
be  well  posted  to  resist  them.  Should 
the  British  attempt  to  march  into  New 
England,  the  troops  at  Peekskill  would 
be  well  stationed  for  opposition ;  should 
they  move  westward,  the  eastern  and 
southern  forces  would  be  enabled  easily 
to  form  a  junction ;  and,  with  a  strong 
American  force  so  near  as  Peekskill,  Sir 
William  Howe  would  be  obliged  to  keep 
a  powerful  garrison  in  New  York,  and 
thus  diminish  his  resources  for  active  op 
erations  elsewhere.  Even  granting  that 
the  army  in  Canada  had  designs  against 
Ticonderoga,  the  post  at  Peekskill  would 
not  be  disadvantageously  situated  for  de 
spatching  reinforcements  to  the  north. 

Washington  was  convinced  that  the 
army  in  Canada  would  be  governed  in  a 
great  degree  by  the  operation  of  General 
Howe's,  then  in  New  Jersey.  "  If  this  is 
held  at  bay,  curbed  and  confined,"  he  said, 
"  the  northern  army  will  not  dare  to  pen 
etrate."  Washington  would  have  great 
ly  wished  to  give  Howe  some  "  capital 
stroke"  in  the  early  part  of  the  season, 
that  he  might  open  the  campaign  with 
the  eclat  of  a  triumph.  The  aspirations 
of  Congress,  however,  greatly  transcended 
those  of  the  coinmander-in-chief.  They 
eagerly  desired  that  the  enemy  might  be 
confined  in  their  present  quarters,  pre 
vented  from  getting  supplies  from  the 
country,  and  totally  subdued  before  they 
Avere  reinforced.  "  Could  such  grand  ob 
jects  be  accomplished,  I  should  be  happy 
indeed,"  wrote  Washington,  in  answer  to 


War,  14. 


the  impracticable  and  rather  im 
portunate  suggestions  of  Con 
gress.  His  whole  force  was  but  "  a  hand 
ful,"  and  the  greater  part  of  this  was  made 
up  of  militia.  Under  such  circumstances, 
the  commancler-in-chief  felt  it  necessary 
not  only  to  curb  his  own  heroic  desires, 
but  to  extinguish  the  brilliant  expecta 
tions  of  the  national  counsellors.  "  I  con 
fess,  sir,"  writes  Washington  to  President 
Hancock,  "  I  feel  the  most  painful  anxie 
ty  when  I  reflect  on  our  situation  and 
that  of  the  enemy.  Unless  the  levies  ar 
rive  soon,  wre  must  before  long  experi 
ence  some  interesting  and  melancholy 
event." 

The  swelling  conceptions  of  General 
Howe  were  also  destined  to  a  collapse. 
He,  while  doing  nothing  during  the  long 
winter,  had  consoled  himself  with  the 
hope  of  doing  a  great  deal  in  the  coming 
summer  and  autumn.  He  had  magnifi 
cently  resolved  upon  making  an  incur 
sion  into  Rhode  Island  and  Massachu 
setts,  taking  Boston ;  ascending  the  Hud 
son  river  to  Albany ;  attacking  Philadel 
phia  ;  and  invading  Virginia  !  This  grand 
scheme  was  concocted  in  the  heat  of  his 
success  in  New  Jersey.  The  subsequent 
defeat  of  the  Hessians  at  Trenton,  how 
ever,  somewhat  clipped  the  wings  of  his 
imagination,  and  confined  its  flights  to 
the  single  state  of  Pennsylvania,  which 
he  proposed  to  reduce.  He  wanted,  nev 
ertheless,  thirty  thousand  men  to  execute 
what  had  been  so  brilliantly  conceived. 
These  he  was  told  by  the  prime  minister 
he  could  not  get,  and  Sir  William  was 
again  forced  to  restrict  still  further  his 
designs. 


4G2 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    IT. 


General  Howe  now  gave  up  all  hope 
of  making  an  attempt  upon  New  Eng 
land,  or  any  important  movement  up  the 
North  river.  New  Jersey  being  almost 
wrested  from  his  possession,  he  was  fain  to 
change  his  purpose  of  marching  through 
that  state  in  order  to  reduce  Pennsylva 
nia.  The  latter  he  now  proposed  to  in 
vade  by  sea.  This  was  to  be  the  main 
object  of  the  coming  campaign.  Gov 
ernor  Tryon,  however,  was  to  be  left  at 
New  York  with  three  thousand  provin 
cial  troops,  in  order  that  he  might  be  pre 
pared  to  act  on  the  Hudson  or  against 
Connecticut,  as  circumstances  might  di 
rect.  To  Sir  Guy  Carleton,  in  Canada, 
no  hopes  were  held  out  of  co-operation, 
in  the  outset  of  the  campaign,  although 
General  Howe  thought  he  would  be  able 
to  spare  a  sufficient  force  to  open  a  com 
munication  through  the  Highlands  on  the 
North  river  for  the  passage  of  the  men- 
of-war,  and  that  these  troops  might  co 
operate  with  the  British  army  in  the 
North. 

These  designs  of  the  enemy,  although 
now  fully  known  to  the  historian,  could 
only  be  conjectured  or  learned  by  the 
Americans  through  the  irregular  and  un 
certain  means  of  the  spy  or  the  deserter. 
That  the  British  troops  were  preparing 
to  move  in  some  direction,  was  clear.  At 
the  camp  at  Brunswick,  they  were  very 
busily  employed  in  building  a  bridge,  to  be 
supported  by  flat-boats,  which  were  to  be 
transported  by  land  on  carriages.  It  was 
inferred  by  the  Americans  that  this  bridge 
was  designed  for  crossing  the  Delaware, 
and  that  the  British  commander  intend 
ed  to  march  through  New  Jersey  into 


Pennsylvania;  while  the  transports  which 
were  getting  ready  at  NewT  York  should 
bring  troops  thence  by  water  to  Philadel 
phia,  in  order  to  co-operate  with  the  main 
body  of  the  army,  marched  over  land 
from  Brunswick. 

General  Howe,before opening  the  cam 
paign,  and  bringing  his  whole  army  into 
the  field,  inflicted  several  small  blows,  to 
try,  as  it  were,  the  temper  of  his  troops, 
and  the  powers  of  resistance  of  his  an 
tagonists. 

General  Heath,  who  was  in  command 
of  the  American  forces  at  Peekskill,  had 
obtained  leave  to  visit  his  home  in  New 
England.  Being  subsequently  appointed 
to  the  command  of  the  garrison  at  Boston, 
he  did  not  retire.  General  M'Dougall,  as 
his  second,  succeeded  him,  and  was  now 
in  command  at  Peekskill. 

Howe,  tempted  by  the  large  amount 
of  military  stores  and  provisions  collected 
at  Peekskill,  devised  a  scheme  for  taking 
or  destroying  them.  To  divert  the  Amer 
icans  from  his  real  purpose,  an  American 
officer,  who  was  one  of  the  prisoners  ta 
ken  at  Fort  Washington,  was  allowed  to 
hear,  with  affected  inadvertence,  the  con 
versation  of  some  British  officers.  The 
American  was  then  sent  out  with  a  fla^ 

C5 

to  the  outposts  of  General  M'Dongall,  and 
there  left,  with  the  understanding  that  he 
had  been  exchanged.  Getting  among  his 
countrymen,  and  suspecting  nothing  of 
the  enemy's  ruse,  his  first  step  was  toward 
headquarters,  to  report  himself  and  give 
all  the  information  which  he  possessed. 
Accordingly, he  communicated  to  General 
M'Dougall  all  that  he  had  gathered  from 
the  conversation  to  which  he  supposed 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  BRITISH  SUCCESS  AT  PEEKSKILL. 


463 


he  had  been  unintentionally  made  a  par 
ty.  The  enemy,  he  said,  talked  of  ma 
king  an  incursion  into  Westchester  conn- 

O 

ty,  with  the  design  of  taking  off  the  for 
age.  With  this  view,  they  were  about 
sending  out  three  detachments :  one  to 
proceed  up  Long-island  sound  to  Mama- 
roneck ;  another  by  the  Hudson  to  Tarry- 
town  ;  and  the  third  to  go  by  land,  by 
way  of  Kingsbridge. 

General  M'Dougall  had  only  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  men,  and  could  hardly  ven 
ture  to  oppose  so  formidable  an  invasion, 
of  which  he  had  been  thus  fictitiously  in 
formed.  He,  however,  did  all  he  could : 
he  began  to  send  away  the  stores  which 
were  at  Peekskill  to  Forts  Montgomery 
and  Constitution,  that  they  might  be  more 
secure.  While  thus  engaged,  the 
enemy  made  their  appearance, 
with  ten  sail,  in  the  North  river,  off  Tar 
ry  town;  and,  on  the  same  evening,  two 
of  the  vessels  advanced  to  within  twelve 
miles  of  Peekskill.  By  noon  on  the  fol 
lowing  day,  the  whole  fleet  (con 
sisting  of  the  Boome  frigate,  two 
ships  and  two  brigs,  three  galleys  and 
four  transports)  rode  at  anchor  in  Peeks- 
kill  bay.  In  an  hour's  time,  five  hundred 
men  and  four  pieces  of  artillery,  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Bird,  wrere  land 
ed  at  Lent's  cove. 

General  M'Douarall,  finding  the  mini- 

O          /  O 

ber  of  the  enemy  double  that  of  his  own, 
:lid  not  venture  to  oppose  them,  but  re 
treated  to  the  hills  behind  the  town  — 
having,  however,  first  set  fire  to  some  of 
the  storehouses  situated  by  the  river-side, 
and  sent  orders  to  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Marinus  Willett  to  march  with  a  detach- 


Mar,  23, 


ment  of  troops  from  Fort  Constitution  to 
his  aid. 

The  British  were  left  undisturbed  du 
ring  a  whole  day,  when  they  secured  some 
of  the  stores,  and  burned  the  greater  part, 
as  the  only  wharf  at  which  they  could  be 
shipped  had  been  destroyed  by  the  fire 
ordered  by  M'Dougall  as  he  retreated. 
In  the  meantime,  Willett  had  come  up 
with  his  reinforcement,  and  finding  that 
a  party  of  the  British  had  the  next  morn 
ing  detached  themselves  from  the  main 
body  and  taken  possession  of  some  high 
ground  near  the  town,  he  attacked  them 
with  such  spirit,  that  they  were  forced, 
after  a  loss  of  nine  killed  and  wounded, 
to  retire  to  their  comrades  in  the  town. 
The  whole  British  force,  having  accom 
plished  their  purpose,  now  prepared  to 
embark,  setting  fire,  as  they  went,  to  the 
houses  and  the  boats  along  the  bay.  Fa 
vored  by  a  moonlight  night,  they  were 
soon  on  board  their  transports,  and  sail 
ing  down  the  river. 

"  The  loss  of  rum,  molasses,  flour,  bis 
cuit,  pork,  beef,  wheat,  oats,  hay,  tallow, 
iron  pots,  camp-kettles,  canteens,  bowls, 
nails,  wagons  and  carts,  barracks,  store 
houses,  sloops  and petticmgcrs  laden  with 
provisons,"  says  Gordon,  "  was  very  con 
siderable,  far  beyond  what  was  given  out 
by  the  Americans,  though  not  of  that  im 
portance  and  magnitude  as  to  answer  the 
expectations  of  General  Howe." 

The  enemy  were  evidently  in  a  more 
lively  disposition  for  attack,  and  their  at 
tempts  became  more  frequent. 
They  even  showed  a  disposition 
to  disturb  the  Americans  in  New  Jersey. 
General  Lincoln  was  posted  with  his  di- 


Vjnil  13, 


464 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


vision  (in  which  there  were  only  about 
five  hundred  effective  men)  at  Bound- 
brook,  who  had  to  guard  an  extent  of 
five  or  six  miles.  Lord  Cornwall!®  deter 
mined  to  attack  the  post  thus  weakened. 
Lincoln  was  not  unexpectant  of  such  a 
manoeuvre,  and  had  put  his  men  on  their 
guard  against  a  surprise.  The  patriots, 
however,  became  neglectful ;  and  the  en 
emy,  numbering  about  a  thousand  men, 
led  on  by  Lord  Cornwallis  and  General 
Grant,  succeeded  in  crossing  the  Raritan, 
a  short  distance  above  Lincoln's  quarters, 
and  were  not  discovered  until  they  had 
advanced  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
the  American  lines.  While  these  were 
attempting  to  surround  the  general,  two 
thousand  more  British  troops  marched 
along  the  banks  of  the  Raritan  to  attack 
the  Americans  in  front.  Lincoln  barely 
had  a  chance  to  escape,  but  succeeded, 
together  with  one  of  his  aids,  in  getting 
off;  but  his  other  aid-de-camp,  with  all  his 
papers,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
Lincoln  immediately  galloped  to  the  front 
of  his  troops,  while  Earl  Cornwallis  threw 
a  part  of  his  force  in  the  rear  of  their 
right,  and  attempted  to  pass  another  de 
tachment  on  their  left,  with  the  purpose 
of  surrounding  and  cutting  off  the  retreat 
of  the  Americans.  Lincoln  saw  the  de 
sign,  and,  while  these  two  detachments  of 
the  enemy  were  closing  and  about  to  hem 
him  in,  he  with  great  promptness  pushed 
his  force  through  the  passage  between 
them,  and  thus  effected  his  escape,  with 
the  loss  only  of  sixty  killed  and  wound 
ed.  Cornwallis  was  left  in  possession  of 
Boundbrook ;  but, after  destroying  score 

*/         o 

of  barrels  of  flour,  a  few  casks  of  rum,  and 


some  miscellaneous  stores,  he  evacuated 
the  place. 

Sir  William  Howe  now  struck  another 
preliminary  blow  against  the  Americans 
Learning  that  D anbury,  in  Connecticut, 
had  been  made  the  depot  of  a  large  quan 
tity  of  stores,  he  fitted  out  an  expedition 
at  New  York  to  destroy  them.  Governor 
Tryon  was  given  the  command,  and  with 
him  were  associated  General  Agnew  and 
Sir  William  Erskine.  Two  thou 
sand  troops  were  detailed  for  the 
service ;  and,  being  embarked  on  board 
twenty-six  British  men-of-war  and  trans 
ports,  the  whole  expedition  sailed  up 
Long-island  sound  —  exciting  by  its  for 
midable  appearance  the  greatest  alarm 
along  the  shores  of  Westchester  and  Con 
necticut.  As  the  fleet  stood  in  toward 
the  villages  of  Norwalk  and  Fairfield, 
the  inhabitants  hurried  to  their  arms  and 
prepared  for  resistance. 

The  vessels  having  come  to  anchor,  the 
boats  were  lowered  and  the  British  troops 
landed  on  the  low  shore  which  stretches 
out  from  the  base  of  the  Compo  hill,  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Saugatuck  river.  Try- 
on,  having  planted  his  artillery,  was  en 
abled  soon  to  disperse  the  miscellaneous 
throng  of  people  which  had  gathered  to 
oppose  him,  and  take  up  his  march,  al 
though  his  men  were  severely  galled  here 
and  there  by  the  American  marksmen, 
who  as  they  retired  fired  upon  their  in 
vaders  from  under  cover  of  the  woods 
and  stone-fences.  The  British,  however, 
pushed  their  way  for  seven  miles  into  the 
interior  of  the  country,  and  halted  for 
the  night. 

General  Silliman,  of  the  Connecticut 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BRITISH  ATROCITIES  AT  DANBURY. 


46n 


militia,  who  was  at  Fail-field,  so  soon  as 
he  was  aware  of  the  landing  of  the  ene 
my,  sent  out  expresses  in  every  direction 
to  call  the  inhabitants  to  arms.  Early 

next  morning,  the  militia,  obe- 
ApriI26, 

dient  to  the  summons,  came  in 

to  the  number  of  five  hundred  men,  and 
Silliman  marched  them  to  Reading,  in 
pursuit  of  the  enemy.  It  happened  that 
General  Arnold,  who  was  on  his  way  from 
Providence  to  Philadelphia,  to  lay  before 
Congress  his  complaints,  was  sojourning 
with  his  friends  at  New  Haven  when  the 
intelligence  arrived  of  the  British  inva 
sion.  Forgetting  momentarily  all  his  pri 
vate  troubles,  his  ardent  spirit  was  roused 
to  active  sympathy  with  the  public  cause. 
He  immediately  mounted  his  horse,  and, 
joining  General  Wooster,  who  was  also 
at  New  Haven,  rode  with  him  in  great 
haste  to  overtake  Silliman,  some  thirty 
miles  distant.  Stirring  up  with  their  ar 
dent  appeals  the  people  along  the  road, 
Wooster  and  Arnold  succeeded  in  bring 
ing  in  with  them,  when  they  reached  Sil 
liman  at  Reading,  over  a  hundred  men. 
The  whole  body  now  moved  on  toward 
Danbury,  which  was  known  to  be  the  ob 
ject  of  the  enemy,  but  halted  within  four 
miles  of  that  town,  at  Bethel,  which  they 
did  not  reach  until  midnight,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  heavy  rain. 

The  British,  after  their  night- 
halt,  were  on  the  march  again 
early  the  next  morning,  and  proceeded 
with  such  despatch,  that,  with  the  aid  of 
two  native  tories  as  guides,  they  reached 
Danbury  at  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
The  inhabitants  were  not  aware  of  their 
approach  until  some  of  the  frightened 
59 


April  26, 


country-people  rode  in  with  the  intelli 
gence  that  the  enemy  were  but  nine  miles 
off,  and  were  coming  with  all  speed.  The 
alarm  was  great  in  Danbury.  Any  at 
tempt  at  resistance,  with  the  scanty  mi 
litia  force  of  only  a  hundred  and  fifty 
men,  which  was  the  whole  number  in  the 
place,  was  felt  to  be  useless.  Those  who 
could  leave,  fled  with  their  wives,  chil 
dren,  and  effects,  to  the  woods  and  neigh 
boring  villages;  for,  with  exaggerated 
fears  of  the  cruelty  of  the  British,  they 
believed  them  capable  of  every  outrage. 
The  small  militia  force  made  their  way 
out  of  Danbury  at  one  extremity  while 
the  enemy  marched  in  at  the  other,  and 
succeeded  in  joining  General  Silliman  at 
Bethel. 

The  British,  as  soon  as  they  entered 
the  town,  began  to  destroy  the  public 
stores,  and  made  great  havoc,  turnin^  out 

*  O  /  O 

of  the  episcopal  church  the  barrels  of  flour 
and  pork  with  which  it  was  crammed  to 
the  galleries,  and  the  contents  of  two  oth 
er  buildings,  and  then  burning  them.  In 
this  manner,  eighteen  hundred  barrels  of 
pork  and  beef,  seven  hundred  of  flour,  two 
thousand  bushels  of  wheat,  rye,  oats,  and 
Indian  corn,  clothing  for  a  whole  regi 
ment,  and  seventeen  hundred  tents,  the 
greatest  loss  of  all,  were  consumed. 

Their  object  accomplished,  the  enemy 
did  not  seem  disposed  to  commit  any  fur 
ther  outrage.  They  were,  however,  pro 
voked  to  an  act  of  revenge  by  the  sense 
less  conduct  of  four  of  the  inhabitants, 
who,  well  charged  with  liquor,  and  armed 
with  rifles,  had  posted  themselves  in  one 
of  the  houses,  and  commenced  to  fire  up 
on  the  troops.  The  British  soldiers,  thus 


466 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


irritated,  rushed  forward,  and,  seizing  the 
four  men,  thrust  them  into  the  cellar,  and 
burnt  the  house  and  the  poor  wretches 
with  it !  This  was  a  signal  for  general 
riot,  and  the  troops  began  to  break  open 
the  casks  of  rum,  and  help  themselves 
freely  to  their  contents.  The  whole  force 
was  consequently  in  such  a  state  of  in 
toxication  that  night,  that  the  men  could 
have  been  readily  mastered  by  the  Amer 
ican  militia,  few  as  they  were. 

Generals  Silliman,  Wooster,  and  Ar 
nold,  however,  had  deemed  it  imprudent, 
with  their  small  force,  to  risk  an  attack 
upon  the  enemy  while  at  Danbury  :  they 
preferred  to  await  their  return,  and  try 
to  cut  them  off  from  their  ships.  They 
soon  had  an  opportunity  of  beginning  op 
erations.  Tryon,  finding  that  his  men 
were  fast  losing  all  sense  of  discipline  in 
their  debauchery,  and  fearing  that  the 
Americans  (whom  he  knew  to  be  at  Beth 
el)  might  come  upon  him  in  the  midst  of 
disorder^  prudently  determined  to  with 
draw  his  troops  from  Danbury  as  soon  as 
the  drunkards  had  partially  slept  off  the 
effects  of  their  liquor,  and  the  wearied 
their  fatigue.  Before  the  morn 
ing  broke,  therefore,  Tryon  be 
gan  his  march,  having  first  set  fire  to  all 
the  buildings  in  the  village,  with  the  ex- 

O  O       ' 

ception  of  those  which  had  been  previ 
ously  marked  with  a  cross,  to  indicate 
that  they  were  in  possession  of  his  tory 
friends,  and  were  to  be  spared.  From  the 
contrast  of  the  darkness  of  the  lingering 
dawn  on  that  stormy  morning,  the  blaze 
of  Danbury  on  fire  was  visible  through 
out  a  wide  extent  of  the  adjacent  coun 
try,  and  the  inhabitants  were  inflamed  to 


April  27, 


great  indignation  against  these  modern 
Vandals. 

As  Governor  Tryon  was  conscious  that 
the  Americans  would  attempt  to  cut  off 
his  retreat  to  his  ships  lying  in  the  sound, 
he  took  an  indirect  route,  with  the  view 
of  giving  the  impression  that  he  was  about 
returning  to  New  York  by  land  through 
Westchester,  the  county  bordering  on 
Connecticut.  This  led  him  to  Ridgeway. 

o  «/ 

The  veteran  Wooster,  who,  as  senior  in 
rank,  had  taken  the  chief  command  of  the 
militia,  on  discovering  this  movement  of 
the  enemy,  sent  Generals  Arnold  and  Sil 
liman,  with  four  hundred  men,  to  march 
and  post  themselves  in  front  of  Tryon,  in 
order  to  oppose  his  advance, while  he  him 
self,  with  two  hundred,  prepared  to  hang 
upon  his  rear  and  do  what  he  could  to 
harass  it.  Arnold  arrived  at  Ridgefield 
(which  the  enemy  would  be  obliged  to 
pass,  on  their  way  to  Cornpo)  about  ten 
o'clock,  and  took  a  position  in  a  narrow 
road  where  it  entered  the  northern  end 
of  the  village.  Here  he  hastly  gathered 
as  many  carts  and  logs  as  he  could,  and 
built  them  up,  with  earth,  into  a  barri 
cade  across  the  road,  between  a  house  on 
one  side  and  a  ledge  of  rocks  on  the  oth 
er;  and  with  his  force  now  increased  to 
five  hundred  by  the  militiamen  that  lie 
had  picked  up  on  his  route,  he  awaited 
the  approach  of  the  enemy. 

As  Tryon  hurried  on,  General  Wooster, 
with  his  two  hundred  men,  followed  after, 
and  came  up  with  the  rear-guard  of  the 
British  within  a  few  miles  of  Ridgefield. 
The  Americans  succeeded  in  picking  up 
a  score  of  stragglers,  and  then  continued 
to  push  on,  when  the  enemy  turned,  and. 


RKVOLUTIONATCY.J 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WOOSTER. 


467 


planting  their  artillery,  discharged  a  vol 
ley  of  shot,  which  caused  Wooster's  little 
band  of  militia  to  falter.  The  old  gener 
al,  riding  at  their  head,  and  full  of  spirit, 
though  a  veteran  of  nearly  seventy  years, 
strove  to  rally  his  troops,  and  cried  out, 
"  Come  on,  my  boys  !  Never  mind  such 
random  shots !"  At  this  moment  a  ball 
struck  him  in  the  side,  and  he  fell  mor 
tally  wounded.  His  men  gave  up  the 
pursuit,  and  bore  their  dying  general  to 
D  anbury. 

The  enemy  pushed  on  toward  Ridge- 
field,  sending  their  flanking-parties  out  on 
either  side,  and  marching  with  their  main 
body  in  solid  array  direct  for  Arnold's  bar 
ricade.  The  Americans  gave  them  a  warm 
reception  as  they  came  up ;  but,  as  the 
British  gained  the  ledge  of  rocks  on  his 
flank,  and  began  to  pour  down  upon  his 
little  band  volley  after  volley  of  musket 
ry,  Arnold  was  forced  to  order  a  retreat. 
lie  himself,  with  his  usual  dare-devil  spir 
it,  was  the  last  to  leave  the  ground  ;  and, 
when  thus  left  in  the  rear  of  his  men,  he 
became  a  prominent  target  for  the  fire  of 
the  enemy.  Just  as  he  was  turning  his 
horse  to  follow,  a  shot  struck  the  animal, 
which  brought  it  down  upon  its  knees. 
While  Arnold  wras  still  in  the  saddle,  try 
ing  to  get  his  foot  out,  which  had  got  en 
tangled  in  the  stirrup,  a  Connecticut  tory 
rushed  at  him  with  his  bayonet,  crying 
out — 

"  Surrender !  you  are  my  prisoner !" 
"  Not  yet !"  answered  Arnold,  who  at 
the  moment,  drawing  a  pistol  from  his 
holster,  shot  the  man  dead  ;  and  then,  ex 
tricating  himself  from  his  wounded  horse, 
he  made  for  a  swamp  by  the  roadside  and 


April  28, 


escaped,  although  followed  by  the  bullets 
of  a  whole  platoon  of  the  enemy.  Tryon 
now  entered  Ridgefield,  and  allowed  his 
troops,  harassed  by  the  day's  hard  work, 
the  rest  of  a  night. 

At  dawn  next  day,  the  British,  having 
burnt  four  houses  at  Ridgefield, 
wrere  again  on  the  march,  and 
continued  their  route  for  Compo,  through 
Norwalk.  The  ever-active  Arnold  was  OP 
the  alert.  Again  in  the  saddle,  he  had 
rallied  his  scattered  militia,  and  posted 
them  on  the  road  leading  to  the  bridge 
across  the  Saugatuck  river,  prepared  once 
more  to  oppose  Tryon's  retreat;  while  at 
the  bridge  itself  he  had  stationed  Colonel 
Lamb  and  his  corps,  and  planted  three 
fieldpieces,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Os 
wald.  Tryon,  finding  his  way  thus  op 
posed,  turned  his  column  toward  a  ford 
of  the  stream  above,  and  ordered  his  men 
to  get  across  with  all  possible  expedition 
His  object  was,  to  anticipate  the  Ameri 
cans  before  they  could  pass  over  and  be 
able  to  oppose  his  retreat.  He  partially 
succeeded,  but  did  not  escape  without  a 
severe  struggle,  as  his  rear  came  in  col 
lision  with  the  van  of  his  pursuers  just 
crossing  the  bridge.  Colonel  Hunting- 
ton,  too,  posted  on  the  other  side,  with 
Wooster's  men  and  the  militia  of  Danbu- 
ry,  gave  Tryon  a  good  deal  of  annoyance 
on  his  flank. 

The  enemy,  however,  pushed  on,  with 
the  whole  body  of  the  Americans  close 
after  them.  On  reaching  Compo,  Tryon 
took  his  position  upon  the  hill,  while  the 
Americans  came  to  a  halt  and  waited  till 
he  should  attempt  to  embark  his  troops, 
when  they  hoped  greatly  to  harass  him. 


468 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[rART    II. 


Sir  William  Erskine,  observing  the  dan 
gerous  position  of  Tryon,  immediately 
landed  from  the  fleet  lying  off  the  shore 
a  large  body  of  sailors  and  marines,  who 
drove  back  the  pursuers,  and  thus  suc 
ceeded  in  covering  the  embarkation  of 
the  whole  British  force,  when  the  ships 
set  all  sail  and  moved  down  the  sound. 

In  the  struggle,  Arnold,  as  usual,  was 
foremost;  and,  although  he  himself  es 
caped,  his  horse  was  shot  in  the  neck. 
Colonel  Lamb  was  dangerously  wounded 
by  a  grapeshot  while  directing  his  bat 
tery,  and  gallantly  standing  his  ground 
among  the  last. 

The  British,  although  they  had  effected 
their  main  purpose  in  the  expedition,  were 
much  the  greater  losers  in  men,  having 
lost  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners,  at 
least  three  hundred,  while  the  loss  of  the 
Americans  was  only  one  hundred.  The 
death  of  the  veteran  Wooster,  which  oc 
curred  at  D anbury  on  the  2d  of  May,  was 
greatly  regretted.  Though  sixty-seven 
years  of  age  when  he  fell,  he  had  all  the 
spirit  and  gallantry  of  youth. 

DAVID  WOOSTER  was  one  of  the  few  lead 
ing  military  men  of  his  day  who,  when 
the  Revolutionary  War  began,  brought 
into  the  field  a  practical  knowledge  of  tac 
tics  derived  from  experience.  lie  had 
served  in  the  French  War,  fought  under 
Sir  William  Pepperell  at  Louisburg,  and 
commanded  with  honor  as  a  colonel  and 
subsequently  a  brigadier  in  the  French 


and  Indian  campaign  of  1763.  Taking 
part  with  the  revolutionists  in  1775,  he 
was  appointed,  on  the  organization  of  the 
continental  army,  the  third  in  rank  of 
the  eight  brigadier-generals  then  chosen. 
After  a  brief  command  in  Canada  in  1776, 
he  returned  to  his  native  state  of  Con 
necticut,  when  he  received  the  appoint 
ment  of  major-general,  the  first  in  rank, 
and  thus  became  the  chief  in  command 
when  Governor  Tryon  attacked  Danbury. 
His  birth  in  Stratford,  education  at  Yale 
college,  his  marriage  with  the  daughter 
of  the  president  of  that  institution,  and 
his  devotion  to  the  interests  of  Connecti 
cut,  had  greatly  endeared  him  to  the  peo 
ple  of  that  state. 

On  hearing  of  the  result  of  the  inva 
sion  by  Tryon,  Washington  wrote  :  "  I 
regret  our  loss  of  stores  at  Danbury,  and 
the  misfortunes  of  our  brave  men  who 
fell,  and  of  those  who  were  wounded. 
However,  from  these  latter  events  we  de 
rive  this  consolation,  that  the  sentiments 
of  the  people  are  still  powerfully  directed 
to  liberty,  and  that  no  impression  of  the 
enemy,  be  it  ever  so  sudden  and  unex 
pected,  will  pass  with  impunity."  Wash 
ington  was  always  confident  in  the  up 
rightness  of  the  American  cause,  and  nev 
er  despaired  of  its  final  triumph,  wThile 
his  countrymen  remained  true  to  it,  how 
ever  they  might  be  temporarily  over 
whelmed  by  the  profuse  resources  of  a 
powerful  enemy. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         GENERAL  ARNOLD  COMPLAINS  TO  CONGRESS. 


469 


CHAPTER   XLVI. 

General  Arnold's  Gallantry. — Applause  and  Howards. — Arnold  made  a  Major-General. — He  is  still  dissatisfied. — Seeks 
Satisfaction  from  Congress. — His  Enemies  and  Friends. — Arrival  at  Headquarters. — Reception  by  Washington. — Ho 
is  justified  by  tlie  Board  of  War. — Unfavorable  Aspect  of  Arnold's  Accounts. — The  Report  of  Congress  intentionally 
postponed  — Washington  and  the  Foreign  Officers. — Rebuke  to  Monsieur  Malmedy. — Monsieur  Colerus. — Monsieur 
Ducoudray. — A  Rebuke  from  Congress. — The  End  of  Monsieur  Ducoudray. — Colonel  Conway. — He  is  made  a  Major- 
General. — First  Impressions. — Koscinsko. — "Try  me." — Appointed  Aid-de-Camp  by  Washington. — His  Earlv  Life. 
— French  Engineers. — "None  but  Natives." — The  Washington  Guard. — All  Personal  Aggrandizement  sternly  resist 
ed. — Description  of  the  Camp  and  Headquarters  at  Morris  town. — General  Wayne. — Dinner  at  Washington's  Table. — 
The  Company. — Alexander  Hamilton. — Innocent  Gayety  encouraged. — Serious  Thoughts. — Anxieties. — Peculation 
— The  Provincial  Attack  on  Sag  Harbor. — Meigs's  Gallantry. — Applauded  by  Washington. 


1777, 


GENERAL  ARNOLD'S  gallantry  was 
highly  applauded.  Congress  imme 
diately  raised  him  to  the  rank  of  a  major- 
general,  and  voted  him  the  gift  of  a  horse 
"  properly  caparisoned,  as  a  token  of  their 
admiration  of  his  gallant  conduct  in  the 
action  against  the  enemy  in  their  late  en 
terprise  to  Danbury,  in  which  General  Ar 
nold  had  one  horse  shot  under  him  and 
another  wounded."  There  was,  however, 
even  in  these  honors  conferred  by  Con 
gress,  an  implied  censure,  which  the  irri 
table  temper  of  Arnold  could  not  brook. 
The  date  of  his  commission  still  kept  him 
below  the  five  other  major-generals  whose 
elevation  had  so  greatly  stirred  his  angry 
spirit.  Washington  did  his  best  to  soothe 
the  chafed  feelings  of  the  man.  Conscious 
of  his  merits  as  a  military  officer,  he  gave 
him  the  command  of  the  important  post 
of  guarding  the  North  river  at  Peekskill. 
Arnold  was  flattered  by  this  tribute  to  his 
worth,  but  was  not  appeased.  He  still 
impetuously  insisted  upon  an  examina 
tion  into  his  conduct;  and,  declining  for 
the  present  the  command  at  Peekskill,  he 
asked  the  permission  of  Washington  to 


go  to  Philadelphia  and  confront  Congress 
with  a  statement  of  his  wrongs. 

"I  arn  exceedingly  unhappy,"  wrote 
Arnold  to  Congress, "  to  find  that,  after 
having  made  every  sacrifice  of  fortune, 
ease,  and  domestic  happiness,  to  serve  my 
country,  I  am  publicly  impeached  of  a 
catalogue  of  crimes,  which,  if  true,  ought 
to  subject  me  to  disgrace,  infamy,  and  the 
just  resentment  of  my  countrymen.  Con 
scious  of  the  rectitude  of  my  intentions, 
however  I  may  have  erred  in  judgment, 
I  must  request  the  favor  of  Congress  to 
point  out  some  mode  by  which  my  con 
duct  and  that  of  my  accusers  may  be  in 
quired  into,  and  justice  done  to  the  inno 
cent  and  injured." 

If  Arnold  had  bitter  enemies  in  Con 
gress,  he  also  had  strong  friends.  Among 
the  latter  was  Richard  Henry  Lee,  of  Vir 
ginia,  who  warmly  advocated  his  cause. 
In  regard  to  the  charges  so  industriously 
circulated  against  Arnold,  Lee  wrote: 
"  One  plan  now  in  frequent  use  is,  to  as 
sassinate  the  characters  of  the  friends  of 
America,  in  every  place  and  by  every 
means ;  at  this  moment  they  are  reading 


470 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART    II. 


May  12, 


in  Congress  a  bold  and  audacious  attempt 
of  this  kind  against  the  brave  General 
Arnold."  When  Arnold  presented  him 
self  at  headquarters  at  Morristown,  on  his 
way  to  Philadelphia,  Washington  received 
him  with  marked  favor,  and  so  far  advo 
cated  his  cause  as  to  give  him  a  letter  to 
Congress,  in  which  Arnold's  claim  to  be 

O  / 

heard  in  his  own  vindication  was  urged. 
Although  Washington,  with  his  usual  re 
serve,  withholds  all  expression  of  opinion 
in  regard  to  a  matter  not  within  his  own 
sphere  of  observation,  he  does  not  hesi 
tate  to  say  of  Arnold's  military 
character  that  "  it  is  universally 
known  that  he  has  always  distinguished 
himself  as  a  judicious,  brave  officer,  of 
great  activity,  enterprise,  and  perseve 
rance." 

The  board  of  war,  to  whom  the  charges 
were  referred,  reported  that  they  wrere 
entirely  satisfied  with  Arnold's  character 
and  conduct,  which  had  been  "  so  cruelly 
and  groundlessly  aspersed."  Congress 
confirmed  the  report,  but  did  not  go  fur 
ther  and  elevate  Arnold  to  that  priority 
of  rank  among  the  major-generals  which 
he  claimed  as  his  right,  and  desired  more 
than  any  unsubstantial  testimonials  of 
character.  Congress  acted  with  apparent 
inconsistency  ;  but  it  must  be  recollected 
that,  if  all  admired  the  military  genius 
and  personal  daring  of  Arnold,  there  were 
also  many  who  considered  his  moral  char 
acter  at  the  best  equivocal,  the  tenden 
cies  of  which  it  behooved  them  to  check. 
There  was  now  a  test  of  character  by 
which  Arnold  was  more  severely  tried. 
His  accounts  were  submitted  to  Congress, 
and  these  not  only  presented  the  irregu 


larity  of  outlay  without  vouchers,  but  ex 
travagant  expenditure  in  his  own  favor. 
Arnold  was  known  to  have  been  a  poor 
man,  and  of  no  personal  pecuniary  credit ; 
and,  therefore,  when  he  claimed  an  enor 
mous  balance  for  money  spent  from  his 
private  purse,  it  was  naturally  inferred 
that  he  was  asking  what  was  not  his  due. 
His  enemies  openly  declared  that  a  fraud 
was  attempted,  and  his  friends  hesitated 
to  defend  a  man  so  obviously  guilty.  The 
report  of  the  committee  was  intentionally 
delayed ;  for  Congress,  in  the  emergency 
of  the  country,  did  not  care  to  be  de 
prived  of  the  services  of  one  to  whom 
none  denied  the  possession  of  the  highest 
military  qualities,  though  all  deplored  his 
destitution  of  moral  principle. 

Washington  was  perplexed  by  the  sen 
sitiveness  of  his  officers  in  regard  to  rank, 
but  particularly  with  that  of  the  foreign 
gentlemen  who  came  to  headquarters  in 
crowds,  expecting  to  be  provided  for.  "  I 
take  the  liberty,"  he  writes  to  Richard 
Henry  Lee,  "to  ask  you  what  Congress 
expect  I  am  to  do  with  the  many  foreign 
ers  they  have  at  different  times  promoted 
to  the  rank  of  field-officers,  and,  by  the 
last  resolve,  two  to  that  of  colonels." 

There  was  a  Monsieur  Malmedy,  who 
had,  on  the  recommendation  of  General 
Lee,received  thecommission  of  brigadier- 
general  of  the  state  of  lihode  Island.  1  le 
was  subsequently  appointed  a  colonel  in 
the  continental  service.  This  appeared 
to  him  such  a  descent  in  rank,  that  he  was 
dissatisfied,  and  so  pestered  Washington 
with  his  complaints,  that  he  was  obliged 
to  write  to  him :  "  Though  I  wish  not  to 
offend  or  wound,  yet  justice  both  to  you 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         MONSIEUR  DUCOUDRAY.— THADDEUS  KOSCIUSKO. 


471 


and  myself  requires  that  I  should  plainly 
inform  you  that  your  scruples  and  diffi 
culties,  so  often  reiterated,  and  under  a 
variety  of  shapes,  are  exceedingly  per 
plexing  to  me,  and  that  I  wish  them  to 
cease." 

A  certain  Monsieur  Golems,  too,  was 
somewhat  importunate  in  his  demands ; 
and  Washington,  having  made  a  major  of 
him,  lets  him  know  that,  if  the  appoint 
ment  does  not  satisfy,  he  has  no  other  in 
his  power,  and  that  if  monsieur  should 
take  "a  calm  and  dispassionate  view  of 
things,"  he  would  expect  no  more. 

Then  comes  a  Monsieur  Ducoudray, 
who  had  been  promised  by  Silas  Deane, 
the  American  agent  in  Paris,  the  command 
of  the  artillery,  with  the  rank  of  major- 
general.  Washington,  being  well  satisfied 
with  the  gallant  and  able  Knox,  is  not  dis 
posed  to  oust  him,  in  order  to  make  way 
for  the  French  gentleman, and  says,  more 
over,  that  "  it  may  be  questioned,  with 
much  propriety,  whether  so  important  a 
command  as  that  of  the  artillery  should 
be  vested  in  any  but  a  native,  or  one 
attached  by  the  ties  of  interest  to  these 
states."  It  having  been  reported  that 
Ducoudray  had  been  appointed  a  major- 
general  in  the  army,  with  the  command 
of  the  artillery,  Generals  Greene,Sullivan, 
and  Knox,  were  so  indignant,  that  each 
wrote  a  letter  to  Congress,  desiring  per 
mission,  if  it  were  so,  to  resign  at  once. 
Congress  had  not  acted  as  was  rumored  ; 
and,  when  that  body  received  the  letters 
of  the  American  generals,it  rebuked  them 
for  an  attempt  to  inlluence  its  decisions. 
Deane's  treaty  was  not  ratified,  and  Du 
coudray  was  accepted  only  as  a  volunteer. 


All  further  question  about  his  rank  was 
settled,  a  few  months  after,  by  a  mishap 
which  terminated  his  life.  While  crossino- 

O 

the  Schuylkill  in  a  flat-bottomed  boat,  his 
horse,  an  unruly  young  mare,  could  not 
be  controlled  by  Ducoudray,  and  plunged 
with  him  into  the  river,  where  he  was 
drowned. 

A  great  difficulty  with  these  French 
officers  was,  their  want  of  knowledge  of 
English.  This  objection  could  not  be 
urged  against  Colonel  Conway,  who  was 
an  Irishman  by  birth,  although  an  officer 
in  the  French  army.  He  was  therefore 
more  readily  provided  for,  and  appointed 
a  brigadier-general.  He  had  presented 
himself  to  Washington,  and  seems  to  have 
made  a  not  unfavorable  impression  upon 
him.  "  From  what  I  can  discover,"  says 
the  commander-in-chief,  "he  appears  to 
be  a  man  of  candor."  We  shall  find  that 
in  this,  as  in  many  other  cases,  first  ap 
pearances  are  often  deceitful. 

Though  the  feeling  of  Washington  was 
naturally  more  favorably  disposed  toward 
his  countrymen,  who  had  everything  at 
stake,  than  toward  foreigners,  who  were 
for  the  most  part  merely  military  adven 
turers,  seeking  either  the  pay  of  the  mer 
cenary  or  the  satisfaction  of  a  restless  am 
bition,  he  was  ready  to  do  justice  to  the 
claims  of  the  worthy,  come  from  where 
they  might.  Kosciusko,  at  the  first  in 
terview,  won  Washington's  confidence. 
The  noble  Pole  came  to  headquarters, 
with  no  better  title  to  consideration  than 
a  host  of  others,  soliciting  employment 
in  the  army. 

"  What  do  you  seek  here  ?"  inquired 
Washington. 


472 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


"  I  came  to  fight  as  a  volunteer  for 
American  independence,"  replied  Kosci- 
usko. 

"What  can  you  do?" 

"  Try  me,"  was  the  brief  response  of 
the  Pole.  Washington  was  pleased  with 
his  frank  and  self-reliant  bearing,  and  at 
once  made  him  one  of  his  aids-de-camp. 

THADDEUS  KOSCIUSKO  had  been  well  ed 
ucated  at  the  military  schools  of  his  na 
tive  country  and  of  France,  and  his  scien 
tific  acquirements  were  soon  made  avail 
able  in  the  engineer  department,  in  which 
he  chiefly  served.  Of  his  early  life  the 
romantic  story  is  told  that,  having  eloped 
with  a  young  and  beautiful  girl  of  a  no 
ble  family,  he  was  overtaken  by  the  fa 
ther,  who  drew  his  sword  and  attempted 
to  wrest  his  daughter  by  violence.  Kos- 
ciusko,  finding  that  he  must  either  kill 
the  one  or  give  up  the  other,  saved  the 
father  and  lost  the  daughter.  On  his 
departure  for  America,  Doctor  Franklin, 
who  had  known  him  in  Paris,  commend 
ed  him  by  a  letter  to  the  notice  of  Wash 
ington,  and  his  own  personal  qualities  ac 
complished  the  rest. 

Apart  from  those  officers  of  note  who 
afterward  fought  in  the  American  cause, 
there  was  a  number  of  engineers  engaged 
in  France  by  Deane,  in  accordance  with 
an  act  of  Congress.  The  services  of  these 
were  of  the  greatest  importance,  for  the 
country  was  naturally  deficient  in  that 
particular  class  of  officers. 

Washington  at  this  time  had  not  much 
faith  in  foreign  aid.  "  I  profess  myself," 
he  says,  "  to  be  of  that  class  who  never 
built  sanguinely  upon  the  assistance  of 
France,  further  than  her  winking  at  our 


supplies  from  thence  for  the  benefits  de 
rived  from  our  trade."  His  chief  reliance 
was  upon  his  own  country  and  his  coun 
trymen.  In  all  places  of  trust  he  greatly 
preferred  Americans.  When  forming  his 
guard,  he  wrote  to  the  four  colonels  from 
whose  regiments  he  was  to  receive  the 
men,  "  Send  me  none  but  natives."  He 
was,  however,  too  discreet  to  offend  the 
sensibilities  of  the  foreigners,  and  guards 

o  ?  O 

his  officers  against  any  intimation  of  his 
preference  of  natives. 

Washington  was  solicitous  about  this 
guard.  He  desired  that  it  should  be  com 
posed  of  men  of  undoubted  integrity,  for 
during  the  campaign  his  baggage,  papers, 
and  other  matters  of  great  public  import, 
would  probably  be  committed  to  their 
sole  care.  Always  mindful,  too,  of  a  good 
soldierly  effect,  he  wished  that  his  guard 
"  should  look  well  and  be  nearly  of  a  size/' 
and  therefore  ordered  that  the  men  should 
neither  exceed  in  stature  five  feet  ten 
inches  nor  fall  short  of  five  feet  nine  inch 
es,  and  be  "  sober,  young,  active,  and  well 
made."  He  wanted,  he  said,  men  of  good 
character,  and  those  "  that  possess  the 
pride  of  appearing  clean  and  soldierlike." 

That  this  was  not  to  gratify  his  own 
personal  pride,  or  to  increase  his  individ 
ual  importance,  was  evident  even  at  that 
early  period, for  Washington  had  rebuked 
with  severity  every  tendency  among  his 
officers  and  men  toward  worship  of  him 
self,  or  any  separate  power  or  interest  of 
the  state.  Two  of  the  new  regiments  had 
been  called  "  Congress's  own"  and  "  Gen 
eral  Washington's  Life-Guards;"  and  Con 
gress  had,  with  a  quick  sensibility  to  the 
danger  of  such  distinctive  appellations, 


REVOLUTIONARY. 


WASHINGTON'S  CAMP  AT  MORRISTOWN. 


475 


passed  a  resolve  by  which  they  were  con 
demned  as  improper,  and  ordered  not  to 
be  kept  in  use.  Washington's  fastidious 
delicacy  in  the  matter  had,  however,  an 
ticipated  the  action  of  that  body.  "  I  can 
assure  Congress,"  he  says,  "  the  appella 
tion  given  to  the  regiments  officered  by 
me  was  without  my  consent  or  privity. 
As  soon  as  I  heard  it,  I  wrote  to  several 
of  the  officers  in  terms  of  severe  repre 
hension,  and  expressly  charged  them  to 
suppress  the  distinction." 

We  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  camp  and 
headquarters  of  Washington  at  Morris- 
town,  about  this  time,  in  the  lively  ac 
count  of  a  visit  by  Graydon,  who  during 
the  winter  had  been  a  prisoner  in  New 
York  and  on  Long  island,  and,  having 
been  released  on  parole,  was  now  on  his 
way  to  his  native  city  of  Philadelphia. 
While  Graydon  and  his  companions  were 
rambling  in  a  "coal-wagon"  along  the 
road  within  a  few  miles  of  Morristown, 
they  met  Washington  on  horseback,  with 
three  or  four  attendants.  He  recognised 
them,  and  after  a  salutation,  a  few  words 
of  courteous  congratulation  on  their  re 
lease  from  captivity,  and  saying  he  should 
return  to  the  camp  in  a  few  hours,  where 
he  expected  to  see  them,  the  general  rode 
on.  Accordingly,  in  the  evening,  Gray 
don  and  his  friends  went  to  pay  their  re 
spects  to  Washington,  at  his  marquee. 
The  chief  topic  of  conversation  was  nat 
urally  the  probable  objects  of  Sir  William 
Howe  in  the  coming  campaign,  and  the 
American  commander  requested  to  hear 
from  his  visitors  their  opinion,  as  far  as 
they  could  give  it  consistently  with  their 
parole.  One  of  them  answered  that  he 

GO 


thought  a  co-operation  with  the  northern 
army,  by  means  of  the  Hudson  river,  was 
General  Howe's  purpose.  Washington, 
however,  although  he  allowed  that  indi 
cations  seemed  to  point  in  that  direction, 
wras  of  the  opinion  that  the  enemy's  ob 
ject  was  Philadelphia. 

Graydon  spent  two  days  in  the  camp  at 
Morristown.  He  found  everybody  about 
headquarters  in  the  most  cheerful  mood. 
The  appearance  of  the  army  did  not,  how 
ever,  seem  to  justify  the  good  spirits  of 
the  officers.  "  I  had  been,"  says  Graydon. 
"  extremely  anxious  to  see  our  army. 
Here  it  was,  but  I  could  see  nothing 
which  deserved  the  name.  I  was  told, 
indeed,  that  it  was  much  weakened  by 
detachments ;  and  I  was  glad  to  find  that 
there  was  some  cause  for  the  present  pau 
city  of  soldiers."  The  brave  and  daring 
General  Wayne  was  apparently  in  a  high 
state  of  exhilaration,  and,  notwithstand 
ing  the  drooping  of  his  feathers,  and  his 
faded  appearance  "in  a  dingy  red  coat, 
with  a  black,  rusty  cravat,  and  tarnished 
laced  hat,"  he  could  yet  crow  exultingly. 
"  He  entertained,"  says  Graydon,  "  the 
most  sovereign  contempt-for  the  enemy. 
In  his  confident  way,  he  affirmed  that  the 
two  armies  had  interchanged  their  orii>i- 

O  o 

na.1  modes  of  warfare  :  that,  for  our  part, 
we  had  thrown  away  the  shovel,  and  the 
British  had  taken  it  up,  as  they  dared  not 
face  us  without  the  cover  of  an  intrench- 
ment."  The  appearance  of  the  soldiers 
brought  to  mind  the  answer  of  a  gentle 
man  when  asked  what  was  the  uniform 
of  the  army.  "  In  general,"  he  said,  "  it 
is  blue-and-buff,  but  by  this  time  it  must 
be  all  bull"  The  period  of  "  all  bull'" 


474 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAKT  11. 


seemed  to  be  rapidly  approaching,  from 
the  "  motley,  shabby  covering"  of  the  sol 
diers — who,  however,  like  the  spirited 
Wayne,  had  not,  it  is  presumed,  lost  their 
pluck  with  the  tarnish  of  their  regimen 
tals. 

There  was  apparently  no  want  of  so 
cial  enjoyment.  Graydon  was  dined  at 
Washington's  table,  where  there  was  a 
large  company,  among  which  there  were 
several  ladies,  Mrs.  Washington  no  doubt 
among  the  rest,  for  she  was  at  that  time 
at  Morristown.  Colonel  Alexander  Ham 
ilton  presided, "  and  he  acquitted  himself 
with  an  ease,  propriety,  and  vivacity," 
says  Graydon, "  which  gave  me  the  most 
favorable  impression  of  his  talents  and  ac 
complishments."  In  the  evening,  escort 
ed  by  Colonels  Tilghman  and  Hamilton, 
both  aids  of  Washington,  Graydon  was 
taken  to  "  drink  tea  with  some  of  the  la 
dies  of  the  village,"  where  a  part  of  the 
dinner-company  was  again  assembled. 

Washington,  in  fact,  did  all  he  could  to 
encourage  the  cheerfulness  of  both  offi 
cers  and  men.  While,  however,  he  pro 
moted  innocent  pleasures,  he  was  ever 
mindful  of  the  seriousness  of  the  cause  in 
which  he  was  engaged,  and  took  care  that 
his  army  should  not  lose  sight  of  the  mor 
al  influence  which  it  was  expected  to  ex 
ercise.  In  his  instructions  to  the  briga 
dier-generals,  Washington  says:  "Let vice 
and  immorality  of  every  kind  be  discour 
aged  as  much  as  possible  in  your  brigade  ; 
and,  as  a  chaplain  is  allowed  to  each  regi 
ment,  see  that  the  men  regularly  attend 

O  «/ 

divine  worship.  Gaming  of  every  kind 
is  expressly  forbidden,  as  being  the  foun 
dation  of  evil,  and  the  cause  of  many  a 


brave  and  gallant  officer's  ruin.  Games 
of  exercise  for  amusement  may  not  only 
be  permitted,  but  encouraged." 

There  were,  however,  at  this  time,  not 
withstanding  the  mood  of  appa- 

Aftril  y,|t 

rent  cheerfulness  in  the  Ameri 
can  camp,  not  a  few  sources  of  anxiety. 
The  remissness  in  the  appointment  of 
general  officers,  the  resignation  of  some 
of  them,  the  non-acceptance  of  others, 
"  and  I  might  add,"  says  Washington,  "  the 
unfitness  of  a  few,  joined  to  the  amazing 
delay  in  assembling  the  troops,  and  the 
abuses  which  I  am  satisfied  have  been 
committed  by  the  recruiting-officers, have 
distressed  me  and  the  service  exceeding 
ly."  To  the  slow  recruiting  was  to  be 
added  the  further  trouble  of  frequent  de 
sertions.  The  men  were  not  regularly 
paid,  and  were  going  off  to  the  enemy. 
where  at  least  they  were  sure  of  their 
wages  ;  and  common  soldiers  are  not,  un 
der  such  circumstances,  very  apt  to  dis 
criminate  between  a  good  and  a  bad  cause. 
The  military  chest  was  nearly  exhausted. 
"But  there  is  a  cause,"  said  Washington, 
"which  I  fear  will  be  found  on  examina 
tion  too  true,  and  that  is,  that  the  officers 
have  drawn  large  sums, under  pretence  of 
paying  their  men  ;  but  have  been  obliged, 
from  extravagance  and  for  other  purposes, 
to  appropriate  this  money  to  their  own 
use." 

With  all  these  drawbacks,  there  were 
not  wanting  sterling  men  in  the  army  to 
do  their  duty  when  called  upon.  The 
bold  and  successful  enterprise  of  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Meigs  gave  such  proof  of 
gallantly  and  ability  as  to  encourage  the 
most  despairing.  The  British  had  been 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


COLONEL  MEIGS  S  EXPLOIT  AT  SAG  HARBOR. 


475 


May  21, 


Catherine*  forage,  strain,  and  other  neces- 

O  O  O     7    O  / 

saries  for  the  army,  which  were  deposited 
in  large  quantities  at  Sag  Harbor,  on  Long 
island.  General  Parsons,  having  become 
aware  of  the  fact,  proposed  to  make  a  de 
scent  and  destroy  the  stores.  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Meigs,  a  spirited  officer,  who 
had  served  under  Arnold  in  Canada,  was 
selected  to  conduct  the  enterprise.  He 
accordingly  left  New  Haven  with 
two  hundred  and  thirty-four  men 
in  thirteen  whale-boats  and  sailed  to  Guil- 
ford.  Here  he  was  delayed,  as  the  sound 
was  so  rough,  that  he  could  not  venture 
to  cross  to  Long  island.  On  the  23d,  how 
ever,  early  in  the  afternoon,  he  embarked 
one  hundred  and  seventy  of  his  men,  and 
sailed  from  Guilford,  accompanied  by  two 
armed  sloops.  On  reaching  Southold,  in 
the  evening,  where  he  expected  to  meet 
some  of  the  enemy,  Meigs  learned  that 
the  troops  had  left  the  place  two  days 
before  and  crossed  over  to  New  York. 
He  was  informed,  however,  that  at  Sag 
Harbor  he  would  probably  find  a  party. 
Meigs  accordingly  made  all  haste  to  come 
up  with  them.  The  distance  was  fifteen 
miles,  with  a  stretch  of  land,  over  which 
the  men  were  obliged  to  carry  the  whale- 
boats,  before  reaching  the  bay  which  sep 
arates  the  northern  from  the  southern 
branch  of  the  island  on  which  Sag  Harbor 
is  situated. 

At  midnight,  Meigs  had  reached,  with 
all  his  men,  the  opposite  side  of  the  bay, 
about  four  miles  from  Sag  Harbor.  Here 
he  secured  his  boats  in  a  neighboring 


April  24, 


wood,  and,  leaving  a  party  to  guard  them, 
marched  on  with  the  remainder  of  his 
force.  At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he 
arrived  at  the  place,  and  at  once 
began  the  attack.  The  guards 
having  been  bayoneted,  Meigs  led  his  men 
to  the  wharf,  and  commenced  the  work 
of  destruction.  An  armed  schooner  of 
twelve  guns,  lying  off  some  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  or  so,  opened  a  fire,Avhich  was 
continued  uninterruptedly  for  three  quar 
ters  of  an  hour,  but  without  the  least  ef 
fect. 

Colonel  Meigs  never  ceased  till  his  pur 
pose  was  fully  accomplished,  and  only 
departed  after  he  had  destroyed  twelve 
brigs  and  sloops,  one  of  which  was  an 
armed  vessel  of  twelve  guns,  a  hundred 
and  twenty  tons  of  pressed  hay,  a  con 
siderable  amount  of  corn  and  oats,  ten 
hogsheads  of  rum,  and  a  large  quantity 
of  merchandise.  Moreover,  after  having 
killed  six  of  the  enemy,  he  brought  off 
ninety  prisoners,  while  he  had  not  a  man 
killed  or  even  wounded.  Meigs  with  all 
his  men  was  back  again  at  Guilford  as 
early  as  two  o'clock  on  the  same  after- 
ternoon,  having  been  absent  only  twenty- 
five  hours,  during  which  time  a  distance 
of  ninety  miles  of  land  and  water  had 
been  traversed.  Meigs's  gallantry  was 
publicly  acknowledged  by  General  Wash 
ington,  and  rewarded  by  Congress  with 
the  vote  of  a  sword,  as  a  token  of  their 
sense  of  the  "  prudence,  activity,  enter 
prise,  and  valor,"  with  which  he  had  con 
ducted  the  enterprise. 


47G 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


CHAPTER   XLVIL 

The  Enemy's  Bridge. — Washington  anxious  about  the  North  River. — Generals  Greene  and  Knox  sent  to  inspect  the  Forts 
on  the  Hudson. — Report  in  f;ivor  of  Additional  Strength,  Chains,  and  Obstructions. — General  Putnam  despatched  to 
superintend  the  Works. — '  Old  Put"  in  Full  Activity. — Secret  Expedition  against  the  British  at  Kingsbridge. — Wash 
ington  shifts  his  Encampment  to  Middlebrook. — His  Plans. — Sir  William  Howe  on  the  Move — Prospect  of  Action. — 
Provincials  guard  the  Delaware. — Heady  for  the  Enemy. — Howe  apparently  changes  his  Plans,  and  makes  a  New 
Move. — Washington  on  the  Alert  to  harass  Him. — Greene  and  Magaw  attack  the  British  Rear. — Howe  at  Amboy. — • 
He  crosses  with  his  Whole  Force  to  Staten  Island. — All  New  Jersey  in  Possession  of  the  Americans. — Great  Stir  in 
the  Bay  of  New  York. — A  Junction  of  Howe  with  Burgoyne  in  the  North  conjectured. — Preparations  to  prevent  it. — 
Washington  moves  toward  the  Hudson. — Washington  at  Pompton. — Affairs  at  the  North. — General  Schuyler  rein 
stated  in  his  Command. — General  Gates  offended. — He  seeks  Redress  from  Congress. — Is  rebuked  for  insulting  the 
House. — General  St.  Clair  at  Ticonderoga. — Is  Burgoyne  coming  ? — Washington's  Opinion. 


1777, 


THE  designs  of  the  British  were 
not  yet  clearly  revealed,  but  it  was 
believed  that  Philadelphia  was  their  main 
object.  They  were  still  busy  at  work  on 
the  bridge  ;  and  Washington  was  so  fully 
persuaded  that  it  was  to  be  used  when 
finished  to  cross  the  Delaware,  that  he 
ordered  the  exact  breadth  of  the  river 
for  a  considerable  distance  to  be  obtained, 
in  order  to  compare  it  with  the  length 
of  the  bridge,  a  knowledge  of  which  he 
hoped  to  acquire  through  his  spies,  and 
thus  discover  the  part  of  the  stream  in 
tended  to  be  traversed. 

It  was,  however,  believed  that  General 
Howe  would  also  make  an  effort  to  secure 
the  North  river ;  and  Washington  was  ac 
cordingly  very  anxious  to  resist  any  at 
tempt  in  that  direction.  The  British  had 
anchored  several  transports  at  Dobbs's 
ferry  on  the  Hudson,  with  the  purpose, 
it  was  conjectured,  of  diverting  the  atten 
tion  of  Washington  from  their  movements 
toward  the  Delaware.  It  was  possible, 
moreover,  that  they  might  attempt  from 
Brunswick  to  make  an  incursion  into  the 


country  back  of  Morristown,  in  order  to 
seize  the  passes  through  the  mountains; 
and  thus  try  to  cut  off  the  communica 
tion  of  the  American  army  with  the  North 
river.  The  general-in-chief  accordingly 
urged  General  M'Dougall,  at  Peekskill,  to 
be  on  the  alert,  and  George  Clinton  (re 
cently  appointed  a  brigadier-general)  to 
post  as  large  a  body  of  troops  in  the  pas 
ses  of  the  Highlands  as  he  could  spare 
from  the  forts  which  he  commanded  on 
the  Hudson. 

Major-  General  Greene  and  General 
Knox,  twro  of  his  officers  in  whose  capa 
city  and  fidelity  Washington  had  great 
trust,  were  sent  by  him  to  examine  into 
the  state  of  the  defences  on  the  Hudson 
and  at  the  Highland  passes.  They  pro 
ceeded  to  Peekskill,  and,  meeting  there 

7s  O 

with  Generals  M'Dougall,  Clinton,  and 
Wayne,  the  five  officers  began  their  in 
vestigations.  They  inferred  that  the  pas 
ses  through  the  Highlands  were  so  "  ex 
ceedingly  difficult,"  that  the  British  would 
not  attempt  to  operate  by  land,  provided 
the  river  was  effectually  obstructed.  For 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         CHANGE  OF  THE  AMERICAN  ENCAMPMENT. 


477 


this  purpose,  they  recommended  in  their 
report  to  Washington  that  a  boom,  or  chain 
should  be  stretched  across  the  river  at 
Fort  Montgomery,  with  one  or  two  iron 
cables  in  front  to  break  the  force  of  any 
vessel  should  it  attempt  to  pass  the  bar 
rier.  These,  with  two  armed  ships  and 
two  row  galleys  stationed  above,  ready 
to  fire  upon  the  approach  of  the  enemy, 
were  believed  to  be  sufficient  to  defeat 
any  efforts  they  might  make  to  sail  up. 

Washington  approved  of  the  views  of 
Greene  and  his  associates,  and  immedi 
ately  sent  the  vigorous  and  laborious 
Putnam  to  superintend  the  work,  while 
Congress  was  urged  to  supply  without 
delay  the  necessary  means.  That  body 
was  advised  by  the  commander-in-chief 
to  purchase  the  iron  cables  at  Philadel 
phia,  as  they  could  not  be  procured  else 
where,  and  which,  as  they  were  to  be  laid 
diagonally  across  the  river  of  five  hun 
dred  and  forty  yards  in  breadth,  should 
not  be  less  than  four  hundred  and  fifty 
fathoms  long,  and  of  the  "  largest  size  that 
can  be  had." 

In  the  meantime,  while  Congress  was 
deliberating  about  the  cables,  Old  Put's 
ingenuity  was  put  to  the  task  in  fixing  a 
boom.  Presuming  upon  his  exhaustless 
activity,  other  work  was  also  provided  for 
the  veteran  general.  Washington  pro 
posed  that  he  should  get  up  a  secret  ex 
pedition  against  the  British  at  Kings- 
bridge,  on  the  upper  end  of  the  island  of 
New  York.  Two  plans  were  suggested. 
A  number  of  troops  might  be  embarked 
in  boats,  under  pretence  of  transporting 
them  and  their  baggage  across  the  river 
to  Tappan,  as  if  to  join  Washington's  ar 


my  in  New  Jersey.  To  give  this  purpose 
the  appearance  of  greater  plausibility,  a 
number  of  wagons  might  be  got  ready  at 
the  landing  on  the  Jersey  side,  as  if  wait 
ing  for  the  baggage.  If  this  plan  did  not 
suit,  there  was  the  other  of  embarking 
the  troops  at  Peekskill,  under  pretence 
of  reinforcing  the  garrison  on  the  Hud 
son,  in  order  to  expedite  the  works,  and 
to  set  off  as  bound  thither ;  and  then,  un 
der  the  cover  of  the  night,  to  turn  and 
push  down  the  river.  The  place  proposed 
for  the  landing  of  the  troops  was  the  hol 
low  between  Fort  Washington  and  Spuy- 
ten-Devil  creek.  Here  was  a  good  spot 
to  land  upon,  and  a  passage  into  the  road 
leading  from  the  fort  to  Kingsbridge :  this 
route,  being  deeply  hidden,  would  enable 
Putnam  to  fall  in  upon  the  back  of  the 
British  troops  at  Fort  Independence,  by 
which  their  surprise  would  be  greater, 
and  their  retreat  cut  off  "  Thence,"  says 
Washington,  in  his  instructions,  "your 
troops  might,  or  might  not,  march  up  by 
land,  and  sweep  the  country  before  them 
of  the  enemy  and  provisions,  as  circum 
stances  might  justify." 

Washington,  now  that  his  army  was 
somewhat  reinforced,  determined  to  shift 
his  encampment.  His  troops,  however, 
even  at  this  time,  hardly  num 
bered  eight  thousand,  as  most  of 
the  regiments  were  greatly  scant  of  their 
full  complement  of  men.:;:  Forty-three 
regiments  (those  of  New  Jersey,  Pennsyl 
vania,  Delaware,  Maryland,  and  Virginia, 
together  with  Colonel  Hazen's)  composed 
the  army  in  New  Jersey,  under  the  im 
mediate  orders  of  the  commander-in-chief. 

*  Sparks, 


May  28, 


478 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


These  were  divided  into  ten  brigades,  un 
der  Brigadier-Generals  Muhlenberg,  Wee- 
don,  Woodford,  Scott,  Small  wood,  Wayne, 
Deborre,  De  Haas,  Conway,  and  Maxwell. 
The  divisions  were  five,  of  two  brigades 
each,  under  Major-Generals  Greene,  Stir 
ling,  Sullivan,  Stephen, and  Lincoln:  Gen 
eral  Knox  commanded  the  artillery.  The 
New-York  and  New-England  troops  were 
chiefly  at  Ticonderoga,  under  Generals 
Gates  and  St.  Glair;  and  at  Peekskill,  un 
der  Generals  Putnam,  M'Dougall,  and  Clin 
ton. 

The  new  position  taken  by  Washing 
ton  was  a  strong  one  on  the  high  ground 
about  Middlebrook,  and  several  miles  near 
er  than  Morristown  to  the  main  body  of 
the  enemy  at  Brunswick.  There  was  no 
attempt  on  the  part  of  the  British  to  op 
pose  this  movement,  beyond  sending  out 
a  body  of  light-horse,  which,  after  skir 
mishing  with  the  advance-guard,  retired 
on  finding  a  large  detachment  of  the 
American  army  coming  forward.  Wash 
ington's  purpose  was  to  oppose  the  march 
of  General  Howe  to  the  banks  of  the  Del 
aware,  which  it  was  thought  to  be  his  de 
sign  to  cross  on  the  way  to  Philadelphia. 
The  American  chief,  however,  was  not 
sanguine  of  his  power  to  check  the  ene 
my,  in  consequence  of  the  meagerness  of 
his  force.  "  If,"  says  he,  "  some 
effectual  mode  is  not  devised  to 
fill  the  regiments,  it  is  impossible,  at  least 
very  unlikely,  that  any  effectual  opposi 
tion  can  be  given  to  the  British  army 
w itli  the  troops  we  have,  whose  numbers 
diminish  more  by  desertion  than  they  in 
crease  by  enlistments." 

(general  llowe  finally  began  to  move. 


Reinforced  from  New  York  and 


June  13. 


Rhode  Island,  he  commenced  his 
march  in  the  evening,  and  in  the  course 
of  the  night  his  front  had  reached  Som 
erset  courthouse,  where  it  halted,  while 
his  rear  remained  at  Brunswick.  It  ap 
peared  to  be  his  intention  to  push  direct 
ly  for  the  Delaware,  although  Washington 
did  not  know  whether  it  was  a  real  move 
toward  Philadelphia  or  an  endeavor  to 
draw  the  Americans  from  the  heights 

o 

which  they  occupied  along  the  whole 
front  of  the  enemy.  Howe's  only  object, 
as  we  now  know,  was  to  brino;  Washin<>-- 

'  O  O 

ton  to  a  general  action,  for  he  had  deter 
mined  to  attack  Philadelphia  by  sea.  His 
plans  then,  however,  could  only  be  con 
jectured  by  the  Americans,  and  they  pre 
pared  to  act  in  accordance  with  their  sur 
mises. 

As  the  prospect  of  action  approached, 
the  militia  began  to  turn  out  in  a  more 
spirited  manner;  and  they,  together  with 
the  continental  troops, seemed  determined 
to  harass  and  oppose  the  enemy  "  upon 
their  march  through  the  country."  Gen 
eral  Howe  would  have  great  difficulty, 
thought  Washington,  in  crossing  the  Del 
aware.  Arnold  (who  had  been  ordered 
from  Philadelphia)  and  Mifllin  would  be 
ready  with  a  considerable  force  to  meet 
him  on  the  western  side  of  the  river,  while 
Washington's  army  on  the  opposite  bank 
would  "  hang  heavily  on  his  rear."  The 
American  troops  were  withdrawn  from 
Peekskill,  with  the  exception  of  a  thou 
sand  men,  who  were  supposed  sufficient 
(now  that  the  enemy  had  diminished  their 
force  by  their  drafts  for  New  Jersey)  to 
prevent  any  surprise  from  New  York. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MOVEMENTS  OF  GENERAL  HOWE. 


479 


The  hostile  armies  now  confronted  each 
other,  mutually  expectant. 

The  main  body  of  the  Americans  was 
encamped  upon  the  high  ground  at  Mid- 
dlebrook,  while  a  considerable  force  un 
der  General  Sullivan  was  posted  on  the 
lowland  hills.  The  position  at  Middle- 
brook  was  naturally  very  strong,  but  was 
further  strengthened  by  works.  The  pas 
ses  in  the  mountains  were  too  difficult  to 
be  attempted  ;  and,  although  the  right  of 
the  army  was  not  so  well  defended,  two 
or  three  redoubts  were  all  that  were  ne 
cessary  to  secure  it  effectually.  The  en 
emy  were  also  strongly  posted.  Well  for 
tified  on  their  right,  with  the  river  Rari- 
tan  all  along  their  front  and  the  Millstone 
creek  on  their  left,  they  were  in  a  situa 
tion  where  an  attack  upon  them  was  not 
warranted  by  a  sufficient  prospect  of  suc 
cess,  and  might  "  be  attended  with  the 
most  ruinous  consequences."  Under  these 
circumstances,  Washington  determined  to 
collect  all  the  force  at  Middlebrook  that 
could  be  properly  withdrawn  from  other 
quarters,  so  as  to  bring  the  security  of 
his  army  to  the  greatest  possible  certain 
ty,  and  be  ready  to  take  advantage  of  any 
fair  opportunity  of  attack  which  might 
offer.  In  the  meantime,  he  would  send 
out  light  bodies  of  militia  (accompanied 
by  a  few  continental  troops  to  keep  them 
in  countenance  by  their  more  soldierly 
bearing),  to  harass  and  weaken  the  enemy 
by  frequent  skirmishes. 

Whatever  might  be  the  ulterior  pur 
pose  of  the  British,  it  was  conjectured  by 
Washington  that  their  first  object  was  to 
destroy  his  army,  and  then  get  possession 
of  Philadelphia.  The  risk  would  be  too 


great  for  the  enemy  to  attempt  to  cross 
the  Delaware,  when  they  must  expect  to 
meet  a  formidable  opposition  in  front,  and 
have  the  whole  American  army  in  their 
rear.  "  They  might  possibly  be  success 
ful,"  writes  Washington,  "  but  the  proba 
bility  would  be  infinitely  against  them. 
Should  they  be  imprudent  enough  to  do 
it,  I  shall  keep  close  upon  their  heels,  and 
do  everything  in  my  power  to  make  the 
project  fatal  to  them."  The  British  gen 
eral,  however,  had  apparently  no  design 
upon  the  Delaware  at  that  time,  or  he 
would  have  made  a  secret,  rapid  march 
for  it,  and  not  have  come  out  openly,  and 
as  light  as  possible,  leaving  all  his  bag 
gage,  provisions,  boats,  and  bridges,  at 
Brunswick.  From  the  position  he  had 
taken,  his  purpose  was,  more  probably,  to 
prepare  for  an  attack  upon  Washington's 
right,  which  was  the  weakest  point.  But 
whatever  might  be  General  Howe's  ob 
ject,  the  people  were  in  a  high  state  of 
animation,  and  apparently  ready  for  the 
enemy. 

Howe  soon  made  another  change,  that 
gave  rise  to  much  speculation  at  head 
quarters.  After  having  moved  his  main 
body  from  Brunswick,  and  extended  his 
van  to  Somerset  courthouse,  encamping 
between  these  two  posts,  and  beginning 
a  line  of  redoubts,  he  suddenly  marched 

back  his  whole  army  to  the  for- 

.  •        u.     i  June  19, 

irier  place,  burning  the  houses 

and  devastating  the  country  along  his 
route.  Washington  at  this  time  was  con 
stantly  in  the  saddle,  reconnoitring  and 
sending  out  his  light-troops  to  hover  as 
near  as  possible  about  the  enemy,  who, 
however,  secured  as  they  were  on  their 


480 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


June  22, 


Hanks  by  the  Raritan  and  Millstone  riv 
ers,  had  no  great  difficulty  in  reaching 
their  former  posts. 

In  three  days  more,  the  Brit 
ish  camp  was  again  all  astir  night 
and  day.  A  movement  was  evidently  in 
prospect.  Washington  accordingly  sent 
an  express  to  General  Maxwell  to  lie  be 
low  Brunswick  and  Amboy,  in  order  to 
intercept  any  British  parties  which  might 
be  passing  ;  and  detached  three  brigades, 
under  Major-General  Greene,  to  fall  upon 
the  enemy's  rear  as  soon  as  they  should 
move  ;  while  the  main  body  of  the  army 
was  paraded  upon  the  heights  of  Middle- 
brook,  to  support  Greene  if  there  should 
be  occasion. 

Sir  William  Howe  began  his  march, 
and  the  Americans  were  on  the  alert  to 
harass  him.  A  party  of  Colonel  Morgan's 
light-infantry  pushed  forward  betimes  and 
drove  in  the  Hessian  picket  before  the  sun 
was  up  ;  while  the  rest  of  Morgan's  regi 
ment  and  General  Wayne's  brigade  fol 
lowed  rapidly,  and  posted  themselves  op 
posite  to  Brunswick.  The  enemy,  how 
ever,  crossed  the  bridge,  and  took  posses 
sion  of  the  redoubts  which  they  had  con 
structed  on  the  north  side  of  the  river. 
General  Greene, now  advancing  his  troops 
briskly  toward  them,  they  quitted  their 
position  and  retired  by  the  road  to  Am 
boy,  with  Morgan  and  his  riflemen  close 
at  their  heels,  keeping  up  a  sharp  fire, 
which  "  did  considerable  execution." 

Greene  continued  to  pursue  the  enemy 
as  far  as  Piscataway,  but  finding  it  impos 
sible  to  overtake  them,  and  fearful  lest 
he  might  be  drawn  away  too  far  from  the 
main  body,  he  returned  to  Brunswick, 


reporting  with  great  praise  the  conduct 
and  bravery  of  General  Wayne  and  Colo 
nel  Morgan,  and  of  their  officers  and  men, 
who  constantly  advanced  upon  an  enemy 
far  superior  to  them  in  numbers,  and  well 
secured  behind  strong  redoubts.  General 
Maxwell,  unfortunately,  missed  the  ex 
press  messenger,  who  had  by  accident  or 
design  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Brit 
ish  ;  otherwise  their  rear-guard,  as  they 
themselves  confessed,  would  have  been 
cut  off  Maxwell  was  now  reinforced  by 
Lord  Stirling  and  his  division. 

General  Howe,  on  reaching  Amboy,  de 
spatched  some  of  his  troops  across  to 
Staten  island  ;  but  he  soon  brought  them 
back,  and  advanced  to  ward  Westfield  with 
his  whole  army.  Washington  liad  moved 
the  entire  American  force  to  Quibble  town, 

in  order  to  be  nearer  the  enemy 

<v      +1    •  4.-         r-n  June  24, 

after  their  evacuation  of  Bruns 
wick,  and  ordered  Lord  Stirling  to  move 
his  division  still  closer  to  Howe's  lines. 
When  the  enemy  began  apparently  to  re 
turn,  with  the  purpose  of  turning  the 
American  left,  Washington  marched  his 
main  army  back  to  the  secure  position  at 
Middlebrook,  but  continued  to  hang  up 
on  the  British  flank  with  a  body  of  light- 
troops  and  Morgan's  riflemen.  After  some 
slight  skirmishing,  General  Howe  again 
withdrew,  plundering  and  burning  all  be 
fore  him,  to  Amboy,  and  finally  passed 
over  to  Staten  island  with  his  en 
tire  army,  using  the  bridge  which 
had  been  so  laboriously  constructed  at 
Brunswick  for  the  purpose  of  transport 
ing  his  artillery  and  baggage.  The  Amer 
icans  were  thus  left  in  complete  posses 
sion  of  New  Jersey.  The  next  move  of 

»/ 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         SCHUYLER  REINSTATED  IN  HIS  COMMAND. 


481 


the  enemy  was  now  the  object  of  anxious 
speculation. 

A  great  stir  among  the  shipping  in 
New- York  bay,  the  general  striking  of 
the  tents,  and  the  marching  of  the  troops 
from  that  part  of  Staten  island  opposite 
to  Amboy  to  the  other  side,  in  the  neigh 
borhood  of  the  anchorage  of  the  fleet, 
made  it  apparent  that  General  Howe  had 
in  contemplation  some  movement  by  wa 
ter.  At  this  time,  intelligence  was  re 
ceived  from  General  St.  Clair,  command 
ing  at  Ticonderoga,  that  the  British  army 
in  Canada  evidently  had  designs  upon 
that  fort.  It  was  thence  inferred  that 
Howe's  purpose  might  be  to  push  imme 
diately  up  the  Hudson,  in  order  to  co 
operate  with  the  British  troops  marching 
from  the  North.  In  case  this  should  be 
the  enemy's  design,  Washington  prompt 
ly  ordered  General  Putnam,  at  Peekskill, 
to  reinforce  St.  Clair  with  a  portion  of  his 
eastern  troops ;  but,  while  Howe's  object 
was  not  clearly  manifest,  he  was  in  great 
uncertainty  how  to  direct  his  main  body. 
His  situation  was  "  truly  delicate  and  per 
plexing."  Should  he  march  his  army  to 
Peekskill,  leaving  the  British  commander 
on  Staten  island,  there  would  be  nothing 
to  prevent  his  crossing  to  South  Amboy, 
and  pushing  thence  to  Philadelphia,.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  the  North  river  and 
the  possession  of  the  Highlands  should 
be  General  Howe's  object,  the  keeping 
of  the  army  in  New  Jersey  would  give 
the  enemy  the  opportunity  of  effecting 
their  purpose  without  resistance  in  that 
quarter.  "  We  shall  attempt  in  this  di 
lemma,"  says  Washington,  "  to  do  the  best 
we  can."  In  the  meanwhile,  he  wrote  to 
Gl 


July  11. 


Generals  Putnam  and  George  Clinton,  ur 
ging  them  to  put  forth  every  exertion  in 
their  power,  and  instantly  to  call  out  a 
"  respectable"  body  of  militia  to  aid  in  the 
defence  of  the  important  posts  on  the 
North  river.  Washington  also  advanced 
a  division  of  his  army,  under  General  Sul 
livan,  to  Pompton,  in  order  to  be  nearer 
the  enemy  should  they  attempt  to  ascend 
the  Hudson. 

Further  intelligence  from  the  North 
induced  Washington  to  believe  that  the 
possession  of  the  Hudson  and  the  commu 
nication  with  Canada,  by  which  the  east- 
ern  and  southern  states  might  be  sepa 
rated,  was  probably  the  intention  of  the 
enemy ;  and  he  therefore  moved 
his  whole  force  to  Morristown, 
and  thence  to  Pompton,  from  which  place 
he  prepared  to  march  still  farther  toward 
the  Hudson.  Let  us  now  for  a  moment 
glance  at  the  condition  of  affairs  at  the 
North. 

General  Gates,  as  we  have  seen,  had  su 
perseded  General  Schuyler  in  the  com 
mand  of  the  northern  army,  but  had  only 
served  from  the  25th  of  March,  when  on 
the  22d  of  May  he  was  obliged  to  give  it 
up.  Schuyler  had  obtained  from  Congress 
the  investigation  which  he  had  sought  so 
pertinaciously,  and  was  rewarded  for  his 
perseverance  by  a  reinstatement  in  his 
command;  not, however, before  he  had  ad 
dressed  a  memorial  to  Congress,  in  which 
an  apologetic  explanation  was  made  of 
the  expressions  in  his  former  letter  which 
had  given  so  much  offence.  New  Eng 
land  resisted  Schuyler's  appointment  to 
the  last,  and  it  was  only  secured  by  the 
absence  of  some  of  the  delegates  from 


482 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


that  quarter.  It  was,  however,  generally 
conceded  that  his  influence  in  the  state 
of  New  York  rendered  him  the  most  ef 
fective  man  for  the  position. 

Gates  was  greatly  vexed  at  the  result, 
and.  refusing  to  serve  under  Schuyler, 
who  offered  him  the  command  at  Ticon- 
deroga,  requested  permission  to  proceed 
to  Philadelphia.  Here  he  arrived,  and  so 
lost  all  self-control,  that  he  presented  him 
self  on  the  floor  of  Congress,  and  began 
to  indulge  in  some  personal  reflections  on 
one  of  the  members,  which  excited  the 
indignation  of  the  house,  and,  after  a  noi 
sy  debate,  led  to  a  request  that  he  would 
withdraw.  There  was  a  great  deal  of 
partisan  feeling  exhibited  in  the  discus 
sion  of  the  relative  commands  of  Schuy 
ler  and  Gates,  and  the  reinstatement  of 
the  former  was  considered  to  be  a  triumph 
of  what  was  then  termed  the  New- York 
party  over  that  of  New  England. 

As  soon  as  Schuyler  reached  Albany 
from  Philadelphia  (where  he  had  been 
stationed  during  the  interval  of  his  loss 
of  the  northern  command),  he  ordered 
General  St.  Clair  to  Ticonderoga. 
Both  Schuyler  and  St.  Clair  be 
lieved  that  the  enemy  were  preparing  to 
come  in  great  force  from  Canada  by  way 
of  the  lakes.  A  British  spy,  one  Ames- 
bury,  had  been  taken  and  examined,  who 
stated  that  the  main  body  of  the  Canadi 
an  army  was  advancing  by  St.  Johns,  and 
that  a  detachment  of  English,  Canadians, 
and  Indians,  was  about  penetrating  to  the 
south  by  the  Mohawk  river.  Apart  from 
the  information  which  he  was  to  gather, 
Amesbury  was  intrusted  with  a  canteen 
by  a  Judge  Levins,  of  Canada,  with  direc- 


June  5, 


tions  to  deliver  it  to  General  Sullivan, 
and  request  him  to  remove  a  false  bot 
tom,  within  which  he  would  find  a  letter. 
The  canteen  was  obtained  by  Schuyler, 
the  concealed  letter  found  directed  as  had 
been  stated  by  the  spy,  and  at  once  for 
warded,  through  the  commander-in-chief. 
It  proved  to  be  an  appeal  to  General  Sul 
livan  to  betray  the  American  cause.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  against  this  subtle 
exhortation  that  officer  was  patriotically 
proof. 

This  information  of  the  probable  ad 
vance  of  the  Canadian  army  by  way  of 
the  lakes  took  Washington  by  surprise. 
as  he,  together  with  his  chief  officers  and 
Congress,  had  entertained  the  opinion 
that  the  British  troops  at  the  North  would 
have  come  round  by  the  St.  Lawrence 
and  the  sea,  to  reinforce  General  Howe 
at  New  York.  Ticonderoga  had  conse 
quently  been  neglected,  and  frequent  de 
mands  for  reinforcements  of  the  American 
strength  at  Albany  and  beyond  not  re 
sponded  to. 

Washington  had,  moreover,  received 
exaggerated  accounts  of  the  force  at  the 
command  of  Schuyler  and  St.  Clair.  Even 
as  late  as  the  2d  of  July,  he  says  :  "  I  .see 
no  reason  for  apprehending  that  it  [Ticon 
deroga]  can  possibly  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy  in  a  short  time."  He  was 
still  perplexed  about  the  designs  of  his 
antagonists.  "  If  a  co-operation  is  intend 
ed,"  he  writes  to  Schuyler,  ''General  Howe 
must  speedily  throw  off  the  mask,  and 
make  his  preparations  for  going  up  the 
North  river ;  if  he  does  not,  I  shall  think 
that  the  fleet  and  a  small  force  of  Indians 
and  light-troops  are  amusing  you  upon 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


JOHN  BURGOYNE. 


483 


the  hike,  while  the  main  body  comes  round 
and  forms  a  junction  by  water.  One  rea 
son  operates  strongly  against  this,  in  my 
opinion,  and  that  is,  a  man  of  General 


Burgoyne's  spirit  and  enterprise  would 
never  have  returned  from  England  mere 
ly  to  execute  a  plan  from  which  no  great 
credit  or  honor  was  to  be  derived." 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

vjeneral  Burgoyne. — His  Life  and  Character. — His  Parliamentary  Career. — His  Dramatic  Works. — His  Military  Career. 
— Horace  Walpole's  Estimate  of  Him. — Commandcr-in-Chief  of  the  British  Forces  in  Canada. — Plan  of  the  Campaign. 
— Sir  Guy  Carleton's  Magnanimity. — A  Sufferer  for  his  Humanity. — Estimate  of  Burgoyne's  Force. — His  Officers. — 
Beginning  of  the  Campaign. — Burgoyne  meets  the  Indians  in  Council. — Swollen  Rhetoric. — Pompous  Proclamation. — 
General  Schuyler  at  Ticonderoga. — He  strengthens  the  Fortifications. — Goes  to  Albany. — Sends  Stores  and  Men. — He 
is  sanguine  about  the  Security  of  Ticonderoga. — Washington  entertains  the  Same  Opinion. — General  St  Clair  in 
Command  of  the  Fort. — The  Defences. — The  Weak  Points. — Wasted  Energies. 


1777, 


GENERAL  BURGOYNE  is  now  about 
to  act  a  more  important  part  in  the 
American  War ;  and  we  shall  here,  as  we 
meet  him  for  the  first  time  in  the  capaci 
ty  of  a  commander-in-chief,  give  some  ac 
count  of  his  life  and  character.  This  was 
his  third  visit  to  America.  He  had  served 
in  Boston,  under  Governor  Gage  ;  in  Can 
ada,  under  Sir  Guy  Carleton;  and  had 
recently,  after  visiting  England,  returned 
to  take  command  of  the  British  forces  in 
the  North. 

The  time  and  place  of  the  birth  of  JOHN 
BURGOYNE — a  man  who  rose  to  no  mean 
celebrity  as  a  writer,  a  senator,  and  a  mil 
itary  oilicer — are  unknown.  Even  his 
parentage  has  not  been  ascertained  with 
certainty,  although  he  is  generally  sup 
posed  to  have  been  the  natural  son  of 
Lord  Bingley,  who  died  an  old  man  in 
1774.  He  was  probably  early  destined 
for  a  military  life.  There  is,  however,  no 
record  of  the  dates  of  his  grades  in  the 
army  until  1758,  when  he  was  raised  to 


the  rank  of  lieutenantrcolonel.  lie  dis 
tinguished  himself  in  Portugal,  where  he 
was  a  comrade  of  the  eccentric  Charles 
Lee,  who,  under  the  orders  of  Burgoyne, 
swam  the  Tagus  at  the  head  of  three 
hundred  and  fifty  British  soldiers,  and 
surprised  the  Spanish  camp.  After  the 
campaign  in  Portugal,  Burgoyne  was  re 
warded  with  a  colonelcy. 

In  1761,  he  was  elected  a  member  of 
Parliament  for  Midhurst,  a  position  for 
which  he  was  no  doubt  indebted  to  some 
powerful  patronage  through  his  putative 
relationship  to  Lord  Bingley.  In  1768, 
Burgoyne  was  again  returned  to  Parlia 
ment  for  the  borough  of  Preston ;  and 
his  election  drew  upon  him  the  brilliant 
invective  of  "  Junius,"  who,  considering 
him  a  satellite  of  the  duke  of  Grafton 
treated  him  with  the  same  unsparing  se 
verity.  Burgoyne  was  now  appointed 
governor  of  Fort  William,  and  in  1772 
raised  to  the  rank  of  general.  As  a  mem 
ber  of  Parliament  he  began  to  take  a 


484 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAKT  n 


prominent  share  in  its  debates.  In  1772, 
he  took  the  lend  in  denouncing  the  cor 
rupt  conduct  of  the  officials  of  the  East- 
India  Company,  and  introduced  with  a 
brilliant  and  effective  speech  the  motion 
that  a  committee  be  appointed  to  "in 
quire  into  the  nature,  state,  and  condi 
tion  of  the  East-India  Company,  and  of 
the  British  affairs  in  the  East  Indies." 
The  committee  having  been  appointed, 
Burgoyne  as  its  chairman  was  frequently 
called  upon  to  defend  the  conduct  and 
measures  of  himself  and  his  colleagues, 
and  never  failed  to  do  it  with  great  tact 
and  power. 

While  a  dashing  young  subaltern,  Bur 
goyne  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  daugh 
ter  of  the  earl  of  Derby.  The  two  be 
came  deeply  enamored,  and  were  married 
clandestinely,  greatly  to  the  indignation 
of  his  lordship  of  Derby,  who  declared 
that  he  would  never  admit  them  to  his 
presence.  Burgoyne,  however,  with  his 
brilliant, promise  as  a  soldier,  and  a  rising 
man  in  Parliament,  aided  by  his  gentle 
manly  tact,  soon  reconciled  the  earl  of 
Derby  to  the  alliance.  With  this  recog 
nised  relationship,  we  find  Burgoyne,  in 
1774,  acting  as  master  of  ceremonies  in 
the  fete  given  at  the  seat  of  the  family, 
"  The  Oaks,"  to  celebrate  the  marriage 
of  his  brother-in-law,  Lord  Stanley,  with 
Lady  Betsey  Hamilton,  the  daughter  of 
the  duke  of  Hamilton.  It  was  on  this 
occasion  that  Burgoyne  first  publicly  dis 
played  his  talents  as  a  dramatist.  He 
wrote  a  "  dramatic  entertainment,  in  five 
acts,"  styled  «  The  Maid  of  the  Oaks,"  which 
was  played  at  the  marriage-festival,  and 
afterward  successfully  brought  out  (un 


der  the  auspices,  and  with  some  touches 
of  the  pen,  of  Garrick)  at  Drury  Lane. 
The  pen  was,  however,  soon  dropped  for 
the  sword,  and  it  was  not  until  after  his 
several  campaigns  in  America  that  he  re 
newed  his  literary  pursuits.  He  then 
wrote  " The  Lord  of  the  Manor"  a  comic 
opera  in  three  acts  —  a  light,  sparkling 
piece,  which  was  acted,  and  welcomed 
with  much  applause.  Writing  verse  with 
facility,  he  contributed  two  lively,  satiri 
cal  compositions,  "  The  Westminster  Guide'" 
and  a  "Probationary  Ode"  to  one  of  the 
cleverest  political  jeu  d'csprits  of  the  day. 
In  1786,  he  brought  out  on  the  stage  the 
comedy  of  " The  Heiress"  and,  soon  after, 
the  historical  drama  of  "Richard  Occur  de 
Lion"  In  all  these,  Burgoyne  exhibits  a 
knowledge  of  society  and  the  world,  a 
quick  fancy,  and  a  flexible  hand.  Ilia 
temper  was  gay,  and  his  disposition  so 
cial.  He  loved  pleasure,  but  was  active 
in  business.  A  thorough  soldier,  he  never 
failed  to  do  his  duty,  though  he  always 
strove  to  soften  the  severities  of  war  by 
acts  of  generosity  and  humanity,  to  which 
his  natural  kindliness  of  heart  prompted 
him.  Horace  Walpole  says  of  him  smart- 
ingly,  that  he  had  "  a  half-understanding 
that  was  worse  than  none ;"  that  he  was 
"a  classic  scholar  who  had  more  reading 
than  parts ;"  that  he  "  was  fond  of  writing, 
and  did  not  want  eloquence,  but  judg 
ment  extremely  ;"  and,  again,  that  he  was 
"  the  most  verbose  and  bombastic  boaster 
that  ever  bore  a  truncheon,"  though  "  he 
did  not  want  spirit,  not  knowledge,  not 
any  zeal  for  serving  his  master." 

We  have  seen  Burgoyne  at  Boston, and 
subsequently  in  Canada ;  and  now,  for  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         GENERAL  BURGOYNE  BEGINS  HIS  MARCH. 


485 


third  time,  we  find  him  in  America  as 
commander-in-chief  of  the  British  troops 
at  the  North.  This  appointment  had  been 
conferred  upon  him  by  the  British  gov 
ernment  in  order  to  carry  out  the  pro 
posed  plan  of  penetrating  toward  Albany 
from  Canada,  and  thus  form  a  junction 
with  a  portion  of  Sir  William  Howe's  ar 
my  which  was  to  advance  up  the  Hudson, 
that  the  American  communication  might 
be  cut  off  between  the  northern  and  east 
ern  states.  Burgoyne,  when  consulted, 
had  declared  that  a  force  of  eight  thou 
sand  regulars,  two  thousand  Canadians, 
and  one  thousand  Indians,  would  be  ne 
cessary  to  secure  the  success  of  the  plan. 
On  arriving  in  Canada,  General  Bur 
goyne  met  with  some  disappointment  in 
filling  up  the  complement  of  his  army, 
but  was  able,  however,  to  commence  op 
erations  with  an  effective  force.  Sir  Guy 
Carleton  had  been  superseded,  and  might 
have  justly  complained  of  neglect,  and 
want  of  acknowledgment  of  his  previous 
services;  but,  waiving  all  personal  feel 
ing,  he  magnanimously  welcomed  Bur 
goyne  with  great  friendliness,  and  ear 
nestly  aided  him  in  executing  his  plans. 
Carleton,  in  character  with  his  usual  be 
nevolence,  is  supposed  to  have  objected 
to  the  employment  of  the  Indians,  and 
therefore  been  supplanted  by  Burgoyne, 
who  had  fewer  scruples  on  this  point. 
Carleton  sent  his  resignation  to  England 
as  governor  of  Canada,  but  in  the  mean 
time  tendered  his  services  to  the  newly- 
appointed  commander-in-chief;  and,  with 
his  knowledge  of  and  influence  in  the 
country,  he  proved  of  great  advantage. 
By  his  means  the  Indian  tribes  were  con 


ciliated,  and  the  native  Canadians  induced 
to  remain  faithful  to  British  interests. 

Burgoyne's  European  force  amounted 
to  seven  thousand  men,  of  whom  nearly 
one  half  were  hired  mercenaries  from  the 
principality  of  Brunswick,  in  Germany. 
To  these  were  added  four  hundred  Indi 
ans  and  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  Cana 
dians.  His  artillery  corps  and  train  were 
of  the  most  serviceable  character,  "  prob 
ably  the  finest  and  the  most  excellently 
supplied  as  to  officers  and  private  men 
that  had  ever  been  allotted  to  second  the 
operations  of  any  army."  His  officers 
were  men  of  great  repute  for  skill  and 
daring.  General  Phillips  commanded  the 
artillery  ;  Generals  Fraser,  Hamilton,  and 
Powell,  the  various  British  divisions  ;  and 
Baron  Reidesel  and  General  Specht,  the 
B  runs  wickers. 

Having  first  detached  Colonel  St.  Leger 
from  St.  Johns  with  a  miscellaneous  force, 
consisting  of  British,  Germans,  Sir  John 
Johnson's  New -York  tory  confederates, 
and  savages  (amounting  in  all  to  about 
eight  hundred),  in  order  to  make  a  diver 
sion  on  the  Mohawk  river,  Bur- 

1    •  If  '.I        K-         JUUC    14« 

goyne  himself  set  out  with  his 
force.  After  proceeding  some  distance, 
he  encamped  his  army  at  the  river  Bou 
quet,  on  the  western  side  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  near  Crown  Point.  Here  he  met 
the  Indians  in  council,  and  gave  them  a 
war-feast.  Burgoyne  was  naturally  soli 
citous  about  the  conduct  of  his  savage  al- 

o 

lies,  and  took  care  to  impress  upon  them 
the  humane  requirements  of  civilized  war 
fare.  They  were  told  that  they  should 
only  kill  those  who  opposed  them  in  arms; 
that  old  men  and  women,  children  and 


486 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


prisoners,  the  wounded  and  the  dying, 
should  be  spared  the  hatchet;  and  that 
none  but  those  who  had  been  slain  in  bat 
tle  should  be  scalped.  Burgoyne  prom 
ised  them  rewards  for  prisoners,  but  de 
clared  that  he  would  call  them  to  strict 
account  for  every  scalp  they  brought  in. 

Having  swollen  his  rhetoric,  in  his  ad 
dress  to  the  savages,  in  accordance  with 
the  supposed  requirements  of  Indian  ora 
tory,  Burgoyne,  it  would  seem,  found  it 
difficult  to  bring  his  imagination  within 
its  ordinary  range  ;  for  the  proclamation 
which  he  immediately  afterward  issued 
to  the  people  of  the  country  was  full  of 
pompous  declamation.  There  was  some 
thing  in  it,  however,  worse  than  its  style. 
It  held  out  the  threat  of  savage  cruelty. 
"  I  have,"  said  he,  "  but  to  give  stretch  to 
the  Indian  forces  under  my  direction,  and 
they  amount  to  thousands,  to  overtake 
the  hardened  enemies  of  Great  Britain 
and  America.  I  consider  them  the  same, 
wherever  they  may  lurk." 

Soon  after  sending  St.  Clair  to  Ticon 
deroga.  General  Schuyler  him- 
IIIIIP  17 

self  went  to  examine  into  the 

condition  of  affairs  there.  They  did  not 
ippear  as  satisfactory  as  he  had  antici 
pated.  Instead  of  the  force  of  five  thou 
sand,  which  Washington  supposed  to  be 
the  strength  of  the  garrison  at  this  post, 
it  was  found  that  there  were  less  than 
twenty-five  hundred  effective  men  in  all, 
to  defend  both  the  works  at  Ticonderoga, 
on  the  west  side  of  the  lake,  and  Mount 
Independence,  on  the  east.  Such  a  mea 
ger  supply  of  troops,  it  was  clear,  was 
quite  inadequate  to  defend  the  two  posts. 
Without  reinforcements,  in  case  of  an  at 


tack  from  the  enemy,  one  or  the  other 
would  have  to  be  abandoned.  In  such 
an  event,  Mount  Independence  was  con 
sidered  as  the  post  at  which  it  would  be 
desirable  to  concentrate  all  the  available 
force.  Attention  was  accordingly  direct 
ed  chiefly  to  this  point.  All  the  cannon 
and  stores,  not  immediately  wanted  on 
the  Ticonderoga  side,  were  taken  over; 
and  Kosciusko,  who  was  the  engineer-in- 
chief  of  the  northern  army,  at  once  com 
menced  repairing  the  old  and  adding  new 
works,  in  order  to  strengthen  the  by-no- 
means  strong  fortifications  of  Mount  In 
dependence.  There  was  such  a  deficiency 
of  provisions,  that  it  was  inferred  that  the 
garrison,  unless  soon  supplied,  would  not 
be  able  to  hold  out  for  many  days.  With 
all  these  drawbacks,  it  was  still  thought 

'  O 

advisable  to  obtain  reinforcements  and 
supplies,  and  to  maintain  the  two  posts 
as  long  as  possible.  It  was  deemed  pru 
dent,  however,  to  collect  and  repair  the 
batteaux,  in  case  a  retreat  should  become 
necessary. 

General  Schuyler,  thus  made  aware  of 
the  weaknesses  and  wants  of  Ticondero 
ga,  hastened  back  to  Fort  George,  and 
so  bestirred  himself,  that  he  was  soon  able 
to  send  a  good  supply  of  provisions,  and 
some  working-men  to  aid  in  the  construc 
tion  of  the  works.  He  seemed,  however, 
to  be  in  very  little  anxiety  about  the  post, 
for  he  writes  to  Congress :  "  I  trust  we 
shall  still  be  able  to  put  everythm<»%  in 

•J  O 

such  order  as  to  give  the  enemy  a  good 
reception,  and,  I  hope,  a  repulse,  should 
they  attempt  a  real  attack,  which  I  con 
jecture  will  not  be  soon,  if  at  all."* 

*  Irvinjr. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


DEFENCES  OF  TIGONDEROGA. 


487 


July  1, 


Washington,  too,  from  the  information 
ho  had  obtained,  which  was  unaccounta 
bly  inexact,  continued  to  believe  that  Ti- 
conderoga  was  beyond  the  chance  of  dan 
ger.  "As  the  garrison  at  Ticonderoga," 
he  writes  to  Schuyler,  "  is  sufficient  to 
hold  it  against  any  attack,  I  do  not  think 
it  politic, under  your  representation  of  the 
scarcity  of  provisions,  to  send  up  troops 
to  consume  what  oiiiHit  to  be  thrown  into 

O 

the  fort."  He  soon  received  intelligence 
which  placed  it  beyond  any  chance  of 
doubt,  that  Burgoyne  was  advancing; 
but  he  was  still  confident  of  St.  Glair's 
security  until  the  last  moment,  when  a 
letter  from  Schuyler  appears  to 
have  conveyed  for  the  first  time 
a  truthful  account  of  the  condition  of  Ti 
conderoga.  Washington  thereupon  im 
mediately  ordered  General  Putnam  to  de 
spatch  a  brigade,  under  Nixon,  to  rein 
force  the  northern  army. 

Schuyler,  in  the  meantime,  was  divert 
ing  himself  with  the  idea  that  Burgoyne 
would  march  his  main  body  from  St.  Fran 
c-is  or  St.  Johns  to  the  east  and  invade 
New  England.  "  I  am,"  he  writes,  "  the 
more  continued  in  this  conjecture,  as  the 
enemy  can  not  be  ignorant  how  very  dif 
ficult,  if  not  impossible,  it  will  be  for  them 
to  penetrate  to  Albany,  unless  in  losing 
Ticonderoga  we  should  lose  not  only  all 
our  cannon,  but  most  of  the  army  de 
signed  for  this  [the  northern]  depart 
ment." 

St.  Glair,  even  at  Ticonderoga,  wras  for 
a  long  time  in  a  state  of  uncertainty  about 
the  strength  and  designs  of  the  enemy. 
In  the  meanwhile  he  kept  his  men  busily 
occupied  in  increasing  the  defences  of  the 


place.  There  were  not  wanting  some 
among  the  officers  who  were  doubtful  of 
the  policy  of  holding  the  post.  The  gar 
rison  were  so  few  in  numbers,  and  the  la 
bors  of  all  so  much  increased  by  the  works 
and  the  strong  guards  necessary  on  the 
threatened  approach  of  the  enemy,  that 
the  men  became  prostrated  by  fatigue  and 
watching.  "  If  fortitude,"  wrote  an  officer 
at  that  time,  "if  enterprise,  if  perseve 
rance  or  temerity,  could  avail,  I  would 
not  complain  ;  but,  in  the  name  of  Heav 
en,  what  can  be  expected  from  a  naked, 
undisciplined,  badly-armed,  unaccoutred 
body  of  men,  when  opposed  to  a  vast  su 
periority  of  British  troops?" 

The  American  lines  were  greatly  ex 
tended,  from  Mount  Independence,  on  the 
east  side  of  Lake  Champlain,  to  Ticon 
deroga  on  the  west.  The  two  places  were 
connected  by  a  floating  bridge,  supported 
on  twenty-two  sunken  piers  of  very  large 
timber,  and  the  spaces  between  filled  with 
separate  floats,  each  about  fifty  feet  long 
and  twelve  wide,  strongly  fastened  to 
gether  by  iron  chains  and  rivets.  On  the 
northern  side  of  this  bridge  was  stretched 
a  boom  made  of  large  timber,  well  secured 
by  riveted  bolts,  and  a  double  iron  chain, 
with  links  of  one  and  a  half  inches  square. 
The  length  of  this  combined  bridge,  boom, 
and  chain,  wras  four  hundred  yards,  and 
its  construction  had  cost  an  immensity 
of  labor  and  expense.  The  work  was  sup 
posed,  however,  to  be  admirably  adapted 
to  the  double  purpose  of  a  communication 
between  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  Inde 
pendence,  and  of  an  impenetrable  barrier 
to  any  approach  of  the  enemy  by  way 
of  the  lake. 


4S8 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


There  were  two  hills  which  command 
ed  the  works :  one  cnlled  Mount  Hope, 
rising  about  half  a  mile  in  advance  of  the 
old  French  lines  on  the  Ticonderoga  or 
west  side  of  the  lake;  and  another,  known 
as  the  Sugar-Loaf  hill,  or  Mount  Defiance. 
Mount  Hope  was  the  least  important  of 
the  two  hills,  as  it  only  commanded  the 
left  of  the  works  at  Ticonderoga,  and  was 
unprotected,  probably  in  consequence  of 
the  meagerness  of  St.  Glair's  force,  which, 
composed  of  less  than  three  thousand 
men — of  whom  nine  hundred  were  raw 
militia,  but  just  come  in  —  was  not  suffi 
cient,  when  the  troops  were  ordered  to 
man  the  lines,  to  occupy  their  whole  ex 
tent. 

The  S n gar-Loaf  hill  was,  however,  en 
tirely  neglected,  from  the  prevalent  im 
pression  that  it  was  inaccessible  for  artil 
lery,  and  too  distant,  even  if  in  possession 
of  an  enemy,  for  their  balls  to  reach  the 
fort.  This  hill,  which  is  the  northern  ter 
mination  of  the  mountairi-ridffe  dividing 

O  o 

Lake  George  from  Lake  Champlain,  rises 
precipitously  to  a  height  of  six  hundred 
feet,  and  completely  commanded  both  the 
works  at  Ticonderoga,  from  which  it  was 
only  separated  by  the  outlet  from  Lake 
George,  and  those  at  Mount  Independ 
ence,  from  which  it  was  divided  by  the 
narrowest  part  of  Lake  Champlain.  A 
year  before,  John  Trumbull  (then  Gen 
eral  Gates's  adjutant  at  Ticonderoga,  and 
subsequently  the  well-known  painter)  had 
been  impressed  with  the  importance  of 
guarding  the  Sugar-Loaf  hill.  "  I  had  for 
some  time,"  he  says,  "regarded  this  emi 
nence  as  completely  overruling  our  en 
tire  position.  It  was  said,  indeed,  to  be 


at  too  great  a  distance  to  be  dangerous ; 
but  by  repeated  observations  I  had  satis 
fied  my  mind  that  the  distance  was  by 
no  means  so  great  as  was  generally  sup 
posed  :  and  at  length,  at  the  table  of  Gen 
eral  Gates,  where  the  principal  officers  of 
the  army  were  present,  I  ventured  to  ad 
vance  the  new  and  heretical  opinion  that 
our  position  was  bad  and  untenable,  as 
being  overlooked  in  all  its  parts  by  this 
hill.  I  was  ridiculed  for  advancing  such 
an  extravagant  idea.  I  persisted,  how 
ever  ;  and,  as  the  truth  could  not  be  as 
certained  by  argument,  by  theory,  or  by 
ridicule,  I  requested  and  obtained  the 
general's  permission  to  ascertain  it  by 
experiment. 

"  General  (then  Major)  Stevens  was  bu 
sy  at  the  north  point  of  Mount  Indepen 
dence  in  examining  and  proving  cannon. 
I  went  over  to  him  on  the  following  morn 
ing,  and  selected  a  long,  double-fortified 
French  brass  gun  (a  twelve -pounder), 
which  was  loaded  with  the  proof-charge  of 
best  powder,  and  double  shotted.  When 
I  desired  him  to  elevate  this  gun  so  that 
it  should  point  at  the  summit  of  Mount 
Defiance  (Sugar-Loaf  hill),  he  looked  sur 
prised,  and  gave  his  opinion  that  the  shot 
would  not  cross  the  lake.  '  That  is  what 
I  wish  to  ascertain,  major,'  was  my  an 
swer.  '  I  believe  they  will ;  and  you  will 
direct  your  men  to  look  sharp,  and  we, 
too,  will  keep  a  good  lookout.  If  the  shot 
drop  in  the  lake,  their  splash  will  be  easi 
ly  seen  ;  if,  as  I  expect,  they  reach  the  hill, 
we  shall  know  it  by  the  dust  of  the  im 
pression  which  they  will  make  upon  its 
rocky  face.' 

"  The  gun  was  fired,  and  the  shot  was 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  THE  BRITISH  APPROACH  TICONDEROGA. 


489 


plainly  seen  to  strike  at  more  than  half 

the  height  of  the  hill.    I  returned  to  head- 

~ 

quarters,  and  made  my  triumphant  re 
port,  and  after  dinner  requested  the  gen 
eral  and  officers  who  were  with  him  to 
walk  out  upon  the  glacis  of  the  old  French 
fort,  where  I  had  ordered  a  common  six- 
pound  field-gun  to  be  placed  in  readiness. 
This  was,  in  their  presence,  loaded  with 
the  ordinary  charge,  pointed  at  the  top 
of  the  hill,  and  when  fired  it  was  seen 
that  the  shot  struck  near  the  summit. 

"  Thus,  the  truth  of  the  new  doctrine 
was  demonstrated  •  but  still  it  was  insist 
ed  upon  that  this  summit  was  inaccessible 
to  an  enemy.  This  also  I  denied,  and 
again  resorted  to  experiment.  General 
Arnold,  Colonel  Wayne,  and  several  oth 
er  active  officers,  accompanied  me  in  the 


general's  barge,  which  landed  us  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  where  it  was  most  pre 
cipitous  and  rocky,  and  we  clambered  to 
the  summit  in  a  short  time.  The  ascen 
n'as  difficult  and  laborious,  but  not  imprac 
ticable  ;  and  when  we  looked  down  upon 
the  outlet  of  Lake  George,  it  was  obvious 
to  all  that  there  could  be  no  difficulty  in 
driving  up  a  loaded  carriage." 

Notwithstanding  this  demonstration  of 
the  importance  of  Mount  Defiance  a  year 
before,  no  regard  was  paid  toward  secu 
ring  it;  and  the  engineers  and  the  dispir 
ited  troops  went  on  wasting  their  ener 
gies  in  ceaseless  labors  upon  works  which 
alone  were  useless  for  defence,  unless  the 
enemy  should  be  equally  heedless,  and 
dash  their  force  against  them  in  an  as 
sault. 


CHAPTER    XLIX. 

Stealthy  Approach  of  the  Enemy. — General  St.  Clair  in  Despair. — The  Beginning  of  the  Attack. — A  Hasty  and  Ineffect 
ual  Fire. — A  Jolly  Hibernian. — St.  Clair  hopeful  of  an  Assault. — General  Burgoyne  discovers  the  Weak  Point. — He 
takes  possession  of  Sugar-Loaf  Hill. — St.  Clair  calls  a  Council  of  War. — A  Retreat  determined  upon. — The  Night's 
Silent  March. — The  Enemy  aroused. — The  Scene  described. — The  Provincials  escape  to  Skenesborough. — They  are 
overtaken  by  Burgoyne. — Burning  of  Galleys  and  Batteaux. — The  Struggle  on  Land. — "  The  Indians  at  our  Heels." 
—The  Fight  at  Fort  Anne. — Disasters  and  Adventures  of  the  Fugitives. — The  Lost  St.  Clair. — His  Wanderings. — 
The  Success  of  the  British  at  Hubbardtown. — Unsuccessful  Attempt  of  St.  Clair  to  aid  the  Discomfited  Provincials 
— St.  Clair  turns  up  in  Vermont. — A  Royal  Conqueror. 


1777, 


THE  occasional  si^ht  of  the  Indi 


an  warriors  at  the  American  out 
posts  (some  of  General  Burgoyne's  savage 
allies),  as  they  were  prowling  about  the 
adjacent  forests,  indicated  the  approach 
of  the  enemy.  General  St.  Clair,  however, 
was  yet  in  ignorance  of  their  force  and 
All  his  efforts  to  obtain  infor- 
62 


designs. 


mation  had  been  in  vain.  Although  the 
heights  of  Ticonderoga  afforded  an  ex 
tended  view  of  the  country,  the  approach 
es  were  concealed  by  mountain  headlands 
and  dense  woods.  Reconnoitring-parties 
were  sent  out,  but  they  were  either  cut 
up,  captured,  or  driven  in,  by  the  Indian 
scouts  of  the  enemy. 


490 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Burgoyne's  force,  however,  was  reveal 
ing  itself  more  clearly  from  day  to  day. 
On  the  30th  of  June,  a  part  of  his  fleet 
had  sailed  up  the  lake  from  Crown  Point, 
and  troops  debarked  on  the  west  side, 
within  three  miles  and  in  full  view  of  Ti- 
conderoga.  Another  detachment,  com 
posed  of  Indians  and  Canadians,  had  land 
ed  on  the  opposite  side,  and,  falling  in 
with  an  American  scouting-party,attacked 
and  put  it  to  the  rout.  St.  Clair  was  anx 
ious,  but  yet,  as  he  was  ignorant  of  the 
strength  and  purpose  of  the  enemy,  un 
decided  upon  what  he  should  do.  Per 
fectly  aware,  however,  of  the  weakness 
of  his  own  position,  St.  Clair  wrote  to  Gen 
eral  Schuyler  :  "  Should  the  enemy  invest 
and  blockade  us,  we  are  infallibly  ruined  ; 
we  shall  be  obliged  to  abandon  this  side 
[theTiconderoga  side], and  then  they  will 
soon  force  the  other  from  us,  nor  do  I  see 
that  a  retreat  will  in  any  shape  be  prac 
ticable.  Everything,  however,  shall  be 
done  that  is  practicable  to  frustrate  the 
enemy's  designs  ;  but  what  can  be  expect 
ed  from  troops  ill  armed,  naked,  and  un- 
accoutred  ?"  lie  was  in  hopes,  notwith 
standing,  that  Burgoyne's  force  was  too 
small  for  an  investment  of  the  posts  on 
both  sides  of  the  lake,  and  that  he  would 
attempt  an  assault,  in  which  case  St.  Clair 
encouraged  himself  with  the  belief  that, 
by  withdrawing  all  his  troops  within  the 
works  at  Mount  Independence,  a  success 
ful  resistance  might  possibly  be  made. 

Burgoyne's  whole  army  now 

began  to  move  from  Crown  Point. 

On  the  western  shore  the  British  came 

marching  forward,  and  on  the  left  the 

German  troops,  while  the  fleet  sailed  up 


the  lake  in  advance.  The  British  imme 
diately  and  without  resistance  took  pos 
session  of  Mount  Hope,  which  command 
ed  the  left  of  the  works  at  Ticonderoga. 
Desiring  to  possess  themselves  of  another 
piece  of  rising  ground  in  advance,  within 
only  a  thousand  yards  of  the  American 
lines,  they  sent  forward  Captain  Frazer, 
with  a  detachment  of  riflemen  and  sev 
eral  hundred  Indians,  to  clear  the  way. 
They  came  on  so  audaciously,  that  they 
ventured  to  attack  an  American  picket 
of  sixty  men,  within  two  hundred  yards 
of  a  battery  of  eight  guns,  and,  having 
dispersed  this  outguard,  approached  to 
within  less  than  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
main  work,  where,  scattering  themselves 
along  the  front  among  the  brushwood, 
they  kept  up  a  brisk  fire. 

General  St.  Clair,  who  had  consoled 
himself  with  the  hope  of  an  assault,  be 
lieved  that  it  was  now  about  to  take 
place,  and  that  the  detachment  which  had 
approached  so  boldly  had  been  sent  for 
ward  to  draw  his  iire  and  create  disorder, 
preliminary  to  the  general  attack,  lie 
accordingly  ordered  his  troops  to  sit  down 
on  the  banquet,  with  their  backs  to  the 
parapet,  to  cover  them  from  the  shot  of 
the  enemy,  and  to  prevent  their  throw 
ing  away  their  own  fire.  One  of  the  o Ul 
cers  at  this  moment,  as  he  leaned  on  the 
parapet,  observed  a  British  light-infantry 
man,  who,  having  crept  within  forty  paces 
of  the  ditch,  and  taken  a  position  on  his 
knees  behind  a  stump,  was  loading  and 
firing.  "I  stepped,"  says  Wilkinson  (for 
he  was  the  ollicer,  and  gives  the  account 
of  the  incident),  '•  to  a  salient  angle  of  the 
line,  and  ordered  a  sergeant  to  rise  and 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         ST.  GLAIR'S  DOUBTS.— THE  JOLLY  HIBERNIAN. 


491 


shoot  him.  The  order  was  obeyed,  and 
at  the  discharge  of  the  musket  every  man 
arose,  mounted  the  banquet,  and  without 
command  fired  a  volley  ;  the  artillery  fol 
lowed  the  example,  as  did  many  of  the 
officers,  from  the  colonels  down  to  subal 
terns:  and,  notwithstanding  the  exertions 
of  the  general,  his  aids,  and  several  other 
officers,  three  rounds  were  discharged  be 
fore  they  could  stop  the  firing."  The 
whole  result  of  this  hurried  fire  and  large 
consumption  of  powder  was  the  wound 
ing  of  a  single  lieutenant,  and  the  fright 
of  the  rest  of  the  party,  who,  when  the 
smoke  had  dispersed,  were  observed  at 
three  hundred  yards'  distance,  retreating 
helter-skelter  to  the  British  position  on 
Mount  Hope.  One  drunken  fellow,  how 
ever,  was  left  upon  the  field,  who,  having 
been  brought  into  the  American  lines, 
proved  of  some  service. 

St.  Glair  was  still  ignorant  of  the  force 
of  the  enemy,  and  of  their  purpose.  He 
now  hit  upon  an  expedient  for  obtaining 
the  information  he  desired.  The  tipsy 
captive,  who  had  been  picked  up  in  front 
of  the  works,  was  clapped  into  the  guard 
house,  and,  as  he  was  supposed  to  be  in 
a  social  and  communicative  humor,  it  was 
proposed  to  get  what  he  knew  out  of 
him.  An  Irishman,  one  Captain  Johnson, 
of  the  American  artillery,  temporarily  as 
suming  the  character  of  a  tory  (putting 
on  a  ragged  suit,  and  concealing  about 
his  person  a  bottle),  was  thrust  in  with 
the  prisoner.  Johnson's  brogue,  rags,  and 
whiskey,  dispelled  all  doubts  of  his  coun 
try,  and  he  soon  succeeded  in  commend 
ing  himself  to  the  fellowship  of  the  cap 
tive,  who  was  also  a  jolly  Hibernian. 


The  prisoner  proved  to  be  not  only 
communicative,but  intelligent;  and  John 
son  wTas  enabled  to  draw  from  him  the 
number  and  name  of  every  corps  under 
General  Burgoyne,  and  an  estimate  of  the 
strength  of  his  whole  force.  It  would 
appear,  moreover,  to  have  been  pretty 
clearly  ascertained  that  the  enemy's  ob 
ject  was  to  invest  the  place. 

The  American  commander,  however, 
still  deluded  himself  with  the  hope  that 
Burgoyne  would  hazard  an  assault.  Ac 
cordingly,  for  several  days,  he  held  his 
ground ;  and,  although  the  British  were 
in  possession  of  Mount  Hope,  and  contin 
ued  to  make  their  approaches,  he  opened 
his  batteries  and  kept  up  a  brisk  cannon 
ade.  St.  Glair  strove  with  all  his  might 
to  animate  his  fatigued  troops,  and  or 
dered  every  man  at  morning  and  evening 
roll-call  to  the  alarm-posts;  while  the 
greatest  vigilance  and  alertness  were  en 
joined. 

Burgoj'ne,  in  the  meantime,  having 
thoroughly  examined  the  American  posi 
tion,  discovered  its  weak  point.  This  was 
the  unoccupied  Sugar-Loaf  hill,  on  the 
south  side  of  the  outlet  from  Lake  George 
into  Lake  Champlain.  A  party  of  light- 
infantry  had  already  encamped  at  its  base, 
and  the  question  was  soon  started  wheth 
er  it  were  possible  to  scale  the  hill  and 
establish  upon  its  summit  a  force  suffi 
cient  for  operations  against  the  forts.  The 
directing  engineer  of  the  British,  Lieu 
tenant  Twiss,  having  been  ordered  to  re 
connoitre,  reported  that  the  hill  had  the 
entire  command  of  the  works  and  build 
ings  of  both  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  In 
dependence,  at  the  distance  of  about  four- 


492 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


teen  hundred  yards  from  the  former  and 
fifteen  hundred  from  the  latter;  that  the 
ground  might  be  levelled  so  as  to  receive 
cannon,  and  that  the  road  by  which  to 
convey  them,  although  difficult,  might  be 
made  practicable  in  twenty-four  hours ; 
that  the  hill  also  commanded  in  reverse 
the  bridge  of  communication  across  the 
lake  between  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  In 
dependence  ;  and  that  from  the  summit 
the  exact  situation  of  the  vessels  could 
be  seen,  while  not  a  movement  of  the 
Americans  could  be  made  during  the  day 
without  being  discovered,  and  even  hav 
ing  their  numbers  counted. 

Burgoyne,  after  this  report,  immediate 
ly  ordered  General  Phillips  to  take  pos 
session  of  Sugar-Loaf  hill.  It  was  not 
effected  without  difficulty ;  for  such  was 
the  steepness  of  the  ascent,  that  it  became 
necessary  to  hoist  the  cannon  from  tree 
to  tree.:i:  The  final  success,  however,  was 
complete ;  and,  on  the  5th  of  July,  the 
British  were  in  full  possession,  and  signal 
ized  their  triumph  by  christening  the  hill 
anew,  by  the  name  of  "  Mount  Defiance." 
When  St.  Clair  beheld  the  English  flag 
flying  from  the  summit,  and  the  bristling 
cannon  threatening  his  doomed  post,  he 
turned  to  his  officers,  saying,  "  We  must 
away  from  this,  for  our  situation  has  be 
come  a  desperate  one."  A  council  of  war 
was  immediately  called. 

General  St.  Clair, having  stated 
July  i>§          .  . 

to  his  officers  that  there  was  ev 
ery  reason  to  believe  that  the  batteries 
of  the  enemy  were  ready  to  open  on  the 
Ticonderoga  side,  that  the  camp  was  very 
much  exposed  to  their  fire,  and  that  a 

*  Thucher. 


simultaneous  attack  would  probably  be 
made  upon  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  Inde 
pendence,  requested  their  opinion  as  to 
whether  the  whole  of  the  troops,  artillery, 
and  stores,  should  be  drawn  over  to  Mount 
Independence  for  the  defence  of  that  post. 
The  council  unanimously  agreed  that  they 
should  be,  on  that  very  night.  The  gen 
eral  then  proposed  the  question  whether, 
after  this  movement,Mount  Independence 
itself  could  be  defended  ;  and,  if  not,  whe 
ther  a  retreat  into  the  country  were  prac 
ticable.  They  unanimously  expressed  the 
opinion  that, "  as  the  enemy  have  already 
nearly  surrounded  us,  and  there  remains 
nothing  more  to  invest  us  completely  but 
their  occupying  the  neck  of  land  betwixt 
the  lake  and  the  East  creek  (which  is  not 
more  than  three  quarters  of  a  mile  over), 
and  possessing  themselves  of  the  narrows 
betwixt  that  and  Skenesborough  —  and 
therebycutting  off  all  communication  with 
the  country — a  retreat  ought  to  be  un 
dertaken  as  soon  as  possible,  and  that  we 
shall  be  very  fortunate  to  effect  it." 

The  retreat  having  been  determined 
upon,  everything  was  done  to  effect  it, 
without  arousing  the  suspicions  of  the 
enemy.  A  cannonade  was  kept  up  every 
half  hour  from  the  redoubt  against  the 
advanced  battery  of  the  British  ;  and,  pre 
vious  to  striking  the  tents,  all  the  lights 
were  put  out.  The  cannon  left  behind 
were  ordered  to  be  spiked,  but  the  trun 
nions  not  to  be  knocked  oflj  lest  the  noise 
might  arouse  the  enemy.  The  evacua 
tion  had  been  resolved  upon  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  but  night  was 
waited  for,  that  it  might  be  carried  into 
execution  with  greater  secrecy.  Accord- 


UEVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  FUGITIVES  FROM  TICONDEROGA. 


July  6. 


hm-ly,  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
July  5, 

the  whole  camp  was  aroused,  and 

be  ""an  to  move  from  both  Ticonderoga 

O  O 

and  Mount  Independence,  with  the  usual 
bustle  and  confusion  of  a  hasty  retreat. 
The  sick,  the  wounded,  and  the  women, 
were  brought  out  to  the  shore,  together 
with  as  many  of  the  cannon  and  stores 
as  could  be  collected  in  the  hurry.  They 
were  then  thrust  aboard  of  two  hundred 
batteaux  and  boats,  which,  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  pushed  up  Lake 
Champlain  for  Skenesborough, 
followed  by  an  escort  of  five  armed  gal 
leys  and  a  guard  of  six  hundred  men,  un 
der  Colonel  Long,  of  New  Hampshire. 
The  main  body  of  the  troops  crossed  over 
the  bridge  from  Ticonderoga  to  Mount 
Independence ;  and  St.  Glair,  taking  an 
unfinished  road  through  the  wilderness, 
on  the  east  or  Vermont  side  of  the  lake, 
led  them  on  toward  Hubbardton  and  Cas- 
tleton,  with  the  view  of  reaching  Skenes 
borough  by  a  circuitous  march. 

The  retreat  had  been  begun  with  great 
caution  in  the  silence  and  darkness  of  the 
night,  and  the  enemy  seemed  to  be  quite 
unconscious  of  the  movement.  But,  by 
some  blunder  or  accident,  the  house  of 
General  De  Fermoy  had  been  set  on  fire, 
and  suddenly  a  blaze  of  light  arose  from 
Mount  Independence,  by  which  the  Brit 
ish  from  their  lofty  position  on  the  hills 
could  see  the  Americans  in  full  retreat. 
At  ouce  the  sentries  gave  the  alarm ;  the 
drums  beat  to  arms;  and  the  enemy, Hock 
ing  into  the  deserted  forts,  prepared  to 
follow  in  immediate  pursuit. 

The  party  on  the  lake  got  safely  off; 
and,  though  looking  "  back  with  regret 


and  forward  with  apprehension,"  there 
were  not  wanting  those  who  were  awa 
kened  to  the  picturesque  interests  about 
them.  "  The  night  was  moonlit  and  pleas 
ant  ;  the  sun  burst  forth  in  the  morning 
with  uncommon  lustre  ;  the  day  was  fine  ; 
the  water's  surface  serene  and  unruffled. 
The  shore  on  each  side  exhibited  a  vari 
egated  view  of  huge  rocks,  caverns,  and 
clefts,  and  the  whole  was  bounded  by  a 
thick,  impenetrable  wilderness."*  There 
were,  fortunately,  other  available  means 
to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  those  less  sensi 
ble  to  the  exhilarating  influence  of  the 
beauties  of  Nature.  The  drum  and  the 
fife  struck  up  their  cheering  music ;  and 
among  the  hospital-stores  gathered  in  the 
haste  of  the  retreat,  there  were  found  ma 
ny  "  dozen  bottles  of  choice  wine,"  which, 
by  "  breaking  off  their  necks,"  were  made 
available  for  the  enlivenment  of  the  de- 
sponding.f 

Thus  they  sailed  on  during  the  night 
and  a  part  of  the  next  day,  until  they 
reached  Skenesborough  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  far 
thest  point  of  the  lake  navigable  by  the 
galleys.  Having  got  thus  far  in  safety, 
there  was  no  suspicion  of  further  danger. 
The  boats  were  lying  quietly  at  the  wharf, 
and  the  people,  having  landed,  were  loi 
tering  without  concern  upon  the  shore, 
when  suddenly  the  enemy's  fleet  hove  in 
sight,  and  began  to  pour  a  broadside  into 
the  American  galleys  and  batteaux. 

General  Burgoyne  was  on  board  the 
frigate  Royal  George,  on  the  lake,  when 
he  first  learned  the  retreat  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  He  immediately  ordered  General 

*  Timelier.  |  Jb. 


494 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


Fraser  with  his  brigade,  and  Baron  Rei- 
desel  with  a  detachment  of  B  runs  wickers, 
to  follow  St.  Clair  by  land,  while  he  him 
self  promptly  pursued  with  his  fleet  the 
fugitives  on  the  lake.  The  famous  bridge. 

O  O     ' 

chain,  and  boom,  which  had  cost  such  an 
immensity  of  labor  and  money,  and  were 
deemed  so  impenetrable,  were  before  him. 
This  was  the  security  in  the  faith  of  which 
the  Americans  were  reposing  so  compla 
cently  at  Skenesborough.  Bridge,  boom, 
and  chain,  however,  all  gave  way  before 
the  "  uncommon  efforts  and  industry"  of 
Burgoyne,  and  so  rapidty,  that  his  gun 
boats  reached  Skenesborough  only  two 
hours  after  the  arrival  of  the  American 
flotilla.  He  had  thus  almost  overtaken 
it  on  the  lake  ;  and,  if  he  had,  "  horridly 
disastrous  indeed  would  have  been  our 
fate,"  exclaims  one  of  the  pursued.  Nor 
were  they  yet  safe.  The  galleys  at  the 
wharves  resisted  for  some  time  ;  but  soon 
two  struck  their  colors,  and  the  rest  were 
blown  up. 

While  the  British  gun-boats  advanced 
to  Skenesborough,  the  frigates  came  to 
anchor  a  short  distance  to  the  north,  and 
landed  a  body  of  British  soldiers  and  In 
dians.  Colonel  Long  strove  to  rally  his 
guard,  and  with  them  to  give  battle  ;  but 
his  efforts  were  useless.  His  men  were 
panic-struck,  and,  having  set  fire  to  the 
fort,  mills,  and  batteaux,  scattered  in  ev 
ery  direction,  each  one  seeking  only  his 
personal  safety  in  flight.  A  number  of 
them,  however,  soon  gathered  together 
for  mutual  safetv,  and  fled  through  a 

•/   '  O 

narrow  defile,  so  closely  pursued  by  the 
enemy,  that  those  in  the  rear  were  con 
stantly  calling  out,  "  March  on  !  the  Indi 


ans  are  at  our  heels !"  Thus  the  fugi 
tives  pushed  on  the  whole  of  that  night, 
and  until  five  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
when  they  reached  Fort  Anne. 
Some  of  the  sick  succeeded  in 
arriving  at  the  same  post,  having  made 
their  escape  in  the  boats  by  Wood  creek, 
a  small,  navigable  stream,  which  branches 
off  from  the  lake  at  Skenesborough.  All 
the  artillery,  provision,  most  of  the  bag 
gage,  and  some  of  the  invalids,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

General  Schuyler,  being  at  Fort  Ed 
ward,  and  hearing  of  the  disaster,  sent  a 
small  reinforcement,  which  so  encouraged 
the  fugitives  under  Colonel  Long,  that 
they  not  only  stood  their  ground  at  Fort 
Anne,  but  prepared  to  sally  out  against 
their  pursuers. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Hill,  with  the  ninth 
regiment  of  British  regulars,  had  followed 
the  panic-struck  fugitives  from 
Skenesborough,  and  had  posted 
himself  under  cover  of  the  woods  near 
Fort  Anne.  Early  the  next  morning  the 
Americans  sallied  out,  and,  while  one  par 
ty  attacked  him  in  front  with  great  vigor, 
another  crossed  a  creek  in  order  to  take 
him  in  the  rear.  Colonel  Hill  was  forced 
to  shift  his  ground  for  fear  of  being  sur 
rounded,  and  post  himself  upon  the  sum 
mit  of  a  hill.  Here  he  was  pursued  and 
attacked,  when  a  hot  struggle  ensued, 
which  lasted  for  nearly  t\vo  hours.  Vic 
tory  was  almost  in  the  grasp  of  the  Amer 
icans,  when  a  number  of  savages  —  de 
tached  by  Burgoyne  from  Skenesborough 
—  rushed  out  of  the  neighboring  forests, 
and  sent  up  their  terrible  war-whoop, 
which  was  answered  by  three  cheers  from 


July  7, 


REVOLUTIONATCY.J 


GENERAL  ST.  CLAIR  S  RETREAT. 


49 


July  9, 


the  British  troops,  and  Colonel  Long's 
men  gave  way.  Ketiring  to  Fort  Anne, 
which  was  a  small  picket-fort  of  little  im 
portance,  the  Americans  set  fire  to  it,  and 
then  proceeded  to  Fort  Edward,  on  the 
Hudson,  some  thirty  miles  distant.  Here 
they  found  General  Schnyler,  who  had 
come  on  with  the  small  reinforcement 
sent  from  Peekskill,  which  he 
had  been  anxiously  awaiting,  for 
the  purpose  of  inarching  to  the  aid  of 
the  post  at  Ticonderoga. 

"  I  am  here,"  writes  Schuyler  from  Fort 
Edward,  "  at  the  head  of  a  handful  of  men 
(not  above  fifteen  hundred),  with  little 
ammunition  (not  above  five  rounds  to  a 
man),  having  neither  balls  nor  lead  to 
make  any.  The  country  is  in  the  deep 
est  consternation  ;  no  carriages  to  remove 
the  stores  from  Fort  George,  which  I  ex 
pect  every  moment  to  hear  is  attacked ; 
and  what  adds  to  my  distress  is,  that  a 
report  prevails  that  I  had  given  orders 
for  the  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga." 

Schuyler  could  learn  nothing  of  the 

•/  o 

fate  of  General  St.  Clair  and  the  main 
body  of  the  troops.  The  Americans  who 
had  escaped  by  the  lake  to  Skenesbor- 
ough,  and  arrived  at  Fort  Edward,  could 
not  clear  up  the  mystery.  They  merely 
reported  the  retreat  from  Ticonderoga, 
and  their  own  disasters  and  adventures. 
Whether  St.  Clair  had  been  cut  off  by  the 
enemy,  or  had  succeeded  in  making  his 
escape,  and  was  now  wandering  through 
the  forest  wildernesses,  was  a  question  the 
solution  of  which  was  anxiously  looked 
for.  In  two  days  more  the  solution  came, 
in  the  intelligence  that  St.  Clair  was  safe, 
with  a  remnant  of  his  troops,  in  Vermont. 


Let  us  now  trace  his  course  from  the  mo 
ment  of  abandoning  the  posts  at  Ticon 
deroga  and  Mount  Independence. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning:  be- 


July  7, 


fore  St.  Clair  had  begun  his  re 
treat  with  his  van,  and  his  rear 
was  still  lingering  not  far  from  the  forts, 
when  the  enemy  took  possession.  Gen 
eral  Fraser,  a  brave  and  active  officer,  had 
no  sooner  planted  the  British  flag,  than 
he  was  out  in  pursuit  with  his  brigade. 
Baron  Reidesel,  with  his  Brunswickers, 
had  been  ordered  to  reinforce  him ;  but 
the  heavy,  formal  Germans  did  not  move 
with  the  same  celerity  as  Eraser's  light- 
troops,  which  pushed  on  quickly  in  ad 
vance. 

St.  Clair,  too,  did  not  linger,  but  moved 
on  the  whole  day  through  the  forest  wil 
derness  with  great  speed,  and  did  not  halt 
his  advanced  troops  until  the  afternoon, 
at  Hubbardton.  Here  he  remained  a 
short  time  for  his  rear-guard  and  strag 
glers  ;  but,  learning  that  they  were  coin 
ing,  St.  Clair  left  Colonel  Warner,  with  a 
hundred  and  fifty  men,  to  await  their  ar 
rival,  and  pushed  on  until  night,  when  he 
reached  Castle  ton,  some  thirty  miles  dis 
tant  from  Ticonderoga. 

Warner  had  been  ordered  to  join  the 
rear-guard  when  it  arrived  at  Hubbard 
ton,  and  then  advance  with  it  toward  Cas- 
tleton.  When,  however,  Colonel  Francis, 
who  commanded  the  rear-guard,  came  up, 
he  and  Warner,  either  confiding  in  their 
numbers,  which  amounted  to  over  fifteen 
hundred  men,  or  underrating  the  activity 
of  their  pursuers,  determined  to  halt  for 

the  ni^ht  at  Hubbardton.     Ear- 

i     ii  *i 

ly  the  next  morning  they  were 


496 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


parading  their  troops,  in  readiness  to  fol 
low  St.  Glair,  when  General  Fraser  sud 
denly  marched  into  Hubbardton  !  This 
brave  and  expeditious  officer  had  kept 
close  upon  the  heels  of  Warner  the  whole 
day  before ;  and,  as  his  own  force  was 
small,  amounting  to  only  eight  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  and  he  knew  that  St.  Glair 
could  not  be  far  in  advance,  he  ordered 
his  troops  to  lie  on  their  arms  for  the 
night,  waiting  to  attack  the  rear  of  the 
Americans  when  their  van  should  be  suf 
ficiently  distant.  The  occasion  was  now 
offered  ;  and  Fraser,  although  with  an  in 
ferior  force,  being  too  impatient  to  await 
the  coming  up  of  the  Germans,  at  once 
began  an  attack.  The  Americans  gener 
ally  bore  the  onset  gallantly ;  but  Colo 
nel  Hale,  who  is  said  to  have  been  dis 
pirited  by  a  long  illness,  fled  immediate 
ly  with  his  whole  regiment  of  militia  in 
the  direction  of  Castleton.  This  greatly 
diminished  the  force  of  the  Americans; 
but  those  left  bravely  stood  their  ground, 
and  at  their  very  first  fire  made  great 
havoc  in  the  front  ranks  of  the  enemy, 
striking  down  twenty-one  men,  killing 
Major  Grant,  a  distinguished  British  offi 
cer,  and  wounding  the  young  earl  of  Ba,l- 
carras,  at  the  head  of  the  light-infantry. 
Colonels  Warner  and  Francis  led  on  their 
men  with  great  gallantry,  and  were  them 
selves  foremost  in  the  fight.  The  Amer 
icans  were  apparently  driving  their  oppo 
nents  from  the  ground,  when  the  drums 
were  heard  of  the  German  troops  coming 
up  to  reinforce  Fraser.  This  dispirited 
the  Americans  and  encouraged  the  Brit 


ish.  The  latter  now  made  a  vigorous 
charge  with  their  bayonets,  and  remained 
masters  of  the  field.  The  loss  of  the  en 
emy  was  a  hundred  and  eighty-three  in 
killed  and  wounded  ;  that  of  the  Ameri 
cans  amounted  to  over  three  hundred, 
twelve  of  whom  were  officers,  and  among 
them  Colonel  Francis.  The  recreant  Hale 
and  his  militia  met  with  a  characteristic 
fate :  they  surrendered  to  a  small  party 
of  British  troops,  much  inferior  to  them 
selves. 

General  St.  Glair,  at  Castleton,  hearing 

'  O 

the  firing,  immediately  sent  his  aid-de 
camp  to  order  two  militia  regiments — 
which  were  encamped  three  or  four  miles 
in  his  rear — to  reinforce  the  troops  at 
Hubbardton.  They,  however,  refused  to 
obey.  St.  Glair  then  prepared  to  march 
himself;  but,  finding  that  the  Americans 
had  been  put  to  flight,  he  continued  his 
retreat.  Skenesborough  had  been  his  ob 
ject,  in  the  circuitous  route  which  he  had 
taken ;  but  an  officer  of  one  of  the  Amer 
ican  galleys  having  come  in  and  reported 
that  the  British  were  pursuing  in  force 
toward  that  place,  he  changed  his  line  of 
march,  and  struck  the  woods  to  his  left, 
on  the  route  to  Bennington  (in  the  New- 
Hampshire  grants,  now  Vermont) ;  and, 
while  on  his  way  thither,  intelligence  was 
first  received  by  General  Schuyler,at  Fort 
Edward,  of  his  safety. 

"  The  king,"  says  Horace  Walpole,  "  on 
receiving  the  account  of  the  taking  of 
Ticonderoga,  ran  into  the  queen's  room, 
crying,  'I  have  beat  them  —  beat  all  the 
Americans !' " 


REVOLUTJONAITC  J         WASHINGTON  MOVES  TOWARD  THE  HUDSON. 


497 


CHAPTER   L. 

Washington  incredulous  of  the  Fall  of  Ticonderoga. — He  does  not  doubt  the  Advance  of  General  Burgoyne. — Prepares  to 
give  Him  a  Check. — Urges  that  General  Arnold  be  sent  North  for  the  Purpose. — Moves  his  own  Army  nearer  the 
Hudson. — Encamps  at  the  Clove. — He  disapproves  of  the  Abandonment  of  Ticonderoga. — Disappointed,  but  not  dis 
heartened. — General  St.  Glair  at  Fort  Edward. — The  American  Force  at  the  North. — Its  Sorry  Condition. — Fortunate 
Delay  of  Burgoyne. — General  Schuyler  fortifies  a  Camp  at  Moses'  Creek. — The  Discouragement  of.  the  Country. — 
Schuyler  slandered. — St.  Glair  assumes  the  Responsibility. — A  Lost  Post :  a  Saved  State. — The  American  Troops 
disaffected. — Arnold  arrives  at  Moses'  Creek. — His  Disinterested  Conduct. — Burgoyne  on  the  Move. — A  Difficult 
March. — Proclamations  and  Counter-Proclamations. — The  British  caught  napping  in  Rhode  Island. — A  Novel  Batter 
ing-Ram. — Capture  of  General  Prescott. 


1777, 


July  10, 


WHEN  the  first  rumor  of  the  loss 
of  Ticonderoga  reached  Washing 
ton,  he  was  loath  to  believe  it.  General 
Schuyler  had  written  him  from  Stillwater, 
while  on  his  way  to  Fort  Ed  ward, 
what  he  had  heard ;  but  the  en 
tire  account  appeared  so  confused  to  the 
eommander-m-chief, that  he  could  not  "es 
tablish  any  certain  deduction  from  it," 
and  hoped  that  it  might  prove  "  prema 
ture  and  groundless."  Whether  true  or 
not,  he  was  no  longer  in  doubt  that  Gen 
eral  Burgoyne  had  come  up  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  determined  to  push  his  way  toward 
the  Hudson,  and  that  a  check  to  his  prog 
ress  was  absolutely  necessary.  The  mi 
litia  from  New  York  and  the  New-Eng 
land  states  must  be  instantly  called  out 
in  full  force,  and  an  active,  spirited  officer 
appointed  to  conduct  and  lead  them  on. 
General  Arnold  was  recommended  as  the 
man  for  this  business.  "  He  is  active,  ju 
dicious,  and  brave,  and  an  officer  in  whom  J 
the  militia  will  repose  great  confidence  ;" 
and,  besides,  "  he  is  well  acquainted  with 
that  country,  and  with  the  routes  and 
most  important  passes  and  defiles  in  it," 
63 


wrote  Washington  to  Congress,  advising 
that  body  to  send  Arnold  at  once  from 
Philadelphia  to  the  northern  department. 
Believing,  too,  that  Sir  William  Howe 
would  push  against  the  Highland  passes, 
in  order  to  co-operate  with  General  Bur 
goyne,  Washington  moved  his  own  army 
toward  the  North  river.  From  Morris- 
town,  where  he  had  encamped  after  leav 
ing  Middlebrook,  he  marched  to 
T>  TT  July  13, 

rompton  plains.     He  was  now 

no  longer  in  doubt  concerning  the  fall  of 
Ticonderoga,  for  General  Schuyler  had 
sent  him  more  specific  information  from 
Fort  Edward.  Washington  pronounced 
the  evacuation  of  the  posts  upon  Lake 
Champlain  as  "  among  the  most  unfortu 
nate  that  could  have  befallen  us."  Schuy 
ler,  having  written  that  he  had  not  been 
able  to  learn  anything  about  General  St. 
Clair  and  the  army  under  him,  Washing 
ton  writes  in  answer  that  he  is 
astonished  beyond  expression. 
"  I  am  totally  at  loss,"  he  says,  "  to  con 
ceive  what  has  become  of  them.  The 
whole  affair  is  so  mysterious,  that  it  even 
baffles  conjecture."  He  was  sufficiently 


July  13, 


498 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[_PART    II. 


July  15. 


sanguine,  however,  to  hope  that  they 
might  have  "  changed  their  design  of  re 
treating  from  the  forts,  and  returned  to 
them,"  although  he  feared  that  they  had 
all  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Washington,  having  marched 
his  army  still  nearer  to  the  Hud 
son,  and  encamped  at  the  Clove,  he  here 
receives  a  despatch  from  General  Schuy- 
ler,  clearing  up  the  mystery  in  regard  to 
St.  Clair.  He  expresses  his  chagrin  and 
surprise  that  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  In 
dependence  should  have  been  evacuated 
—  an  event,  he  snys,  "not  apprehended, 
nor  within  the  compass  of  my  reasoning." 
Even  at  this  late  moment,  Washington, 
by  some  strange  and  inexplicable  neglect 
on  the  part  of  Schuyler,  had  not  been 
correctly  informed  of  the  condition  of  St. 
Clair  and  his  troops  previous  to  their  re 
treat.  He  very  naturally  declares  that  he 
knows  not  upon  what  principle  the  evac 
uation  was  founded,  and  that  it  was  diffi 
cult  to  be  accounted  for,  uif  the  garrison 
amounted  to  five  thousand  men,  in  high  spirits, 
healthy,  well  supplied  with  provisions  and  am 
munition,  and  the  eastern  militia  marching 
to  their  succor." 

Washington,  however,  does  not  allow 
himself  to  indulge  long  in  useless  regrets. 
"This  stroke," he  writes, "is  severe  indeed, 
and  has  distressed  us  much."  But,  with 
his  usual  firm  reliance  upon  the  justice 
of  his  cause,  he  calmly  says :  "  Notwith 
standing  things  at  present  have  a  dark 
and  gloomy  aspect,  I  hope  a  spirited  op 
position  will  check  the  progress  of  Gen 
eral  Burgoyne's  army,  and  that  the  con 
fidence  derived  from  his  success  will  hur 
ry  rhim  into  measures  that  will  in  their 


July  12, 


consequences  be  favorable  to  us.  We 
should  never  despair.  Our  situation  has 
before  been  unpromising,  and  has  changed 
for  the  better  :  so  I  trust  it  will  again.  If 
new  difficulties  arise,  we  must  only  put 
forth  new  exertions,  and  proportion  our 
efforts  to  the  exigency  of  the  times." 

General  St.  Clair  finally  succeeded  in 
reaching  Schuyler,  at  Fort  Ed 
ward,  with  the  remnant  of  his 
jaded  troops,  after  their  long  and  painful 
march  through  a  wild  country  of  forest, 
mountain,  and  morass.  The  whole  north 
ern  army,  when  thus  concentrated,  num 
bered  only  four  thousand  four  hundred 
men,  inclusive  of  the  militia.  They  were 
deficient  in  almost  every  requirement : 
they  had  neither  tents,  houses,  barns, 
boards,  nor  any  shelter,  except  a  little 
brushwood  ;  their  supply  of  ammunition 
was  so  scanty,  that  the  inhabitants  of  Al 
bany  were  obliged  to  strip  the  windows 
of  the  shops  and  houses  of  their  leaden 
weights  to  melt  into  balls;  provisions  they 
had  in  tolerable  abundance,  but  means  to 
cook  them  were  so  scarce,  that  only  one 
camp-kettle  could  be  afforded  to  every 
twenty  men.  Under  these  circumstances 
disease  increased,  and  the  troops  were  so 
disheartened,  that  desertions  began  to  pre 
vail  to  an  alarming  extent. 

Fortunately  for  the  Americans,  G  cneral 
Burgoyne  lingered  atSkenesborough  and 
in  its  neighborhood,  waiting  for  the  arri 
val  of  tents,baggage,and  provisions.  This 
delay  of  the  British  general  gave  Schuy 
ler  an  opportunity  of  making  some  efforts 
to  strengthen  himself  and  oppose  the 
march  of  the  enemy.  A  position  was  se 
lected  for  a  fortified  camp  at  Moses'  creek, 


REVOLTJTIONAKY.]         GENERALS  SCHUYLER  AND  ST.  CLAIR  SLANDERED. 


499 


on  the  Hudson,  five  miles  below  FortEcl- 
wa  rcl.  Kosciusko,  who  was  chief-engineer, 
had  chosen  the  ground  and  superintend 
ed  the  works.  Everything  was  done,  by 
the  destruction  of  bridges,  and  the  felling 
of  trees  across  the  roads  and  passes,  to 
obstruct  the  march  of  the  enemy  from 
the  north.  Schuyler,  however,  with  all 
his  activity,  found  that  his  exertions  were 
of  little  avail.  His  troops  were  daily  di 
minishing  by  disease  and  desertion,  and 
the  country  failed  to  respond  to  his  ear 
nest  appeals  for  aid.  "  Every  letter  I  re 
ceive  from  the  county  of  Tryon,"  he  says, 
"  advise  me  that  the  inhabitants  of  it  will 
lay  down  their  arms  unless  I  support  them 

with  continental  troops The  district  of 

Schoharie,"  he  adds,  "  has  also  pointedly 
intimated  that,  unless  continental  troops 
are  sent  them,  they  will  also  submit  to 
the  enemy." 

The  country  was,  in  fact,  greatly  dis 
heartened  by  the  loss  of  the  northern 
posts,  for  which  Generals  Schuyler  and 
St.  Clair  were  unjustly  held  responsible. 
It  was  even  believed  that  they  had  acted 
the  part  of  traitors  to  their  country,  and 
absurdly  rumored  that  they  had  been 
paid  for  their  treason  by  Burgoyne  in 
silver  balls,  which  he  had  shot  into  the 
American  camp  !  General  St.  Clair  soon 
relieved  Schuyler  from  all  responsibility 
for  the  abandonment  of  Ticonderoga  and 
Mount  Independence.  "  He  knew  noth 
ing  of  the  matter  until  it  was  over,"  was 
St.  Glair's  public  refutation  of  the  slan 
ders  against  Schuyler.  "As  to  myself," 
he  continues,"!  was  perfectly  easy.  1 
was  conscious  of  the  uprightness  and  pro 
priety  of  my  conduct,  and  despised  the 


July  27, 


vague  censure  of  an  uninformed  popu 
lace."  More  than  this,  St.  Clair  justified 
his  act,  not  only  on  the  ground  of  its  ne 
cessity,  but  its  policy.  "  Although  I  have 
lost  a  post,"  he  exclaims,  "  I  have  event 
ually  saved  a  state ;"  and,  notwithstand 
ing  the  slanders  which  for  a  time  were 
visited  upon  him  by  the  ignorant  and  un 
charitable,  it  was  not  long  before  his  proud 
boast  was  recognised  as  the  statement  of 
a  fact. 

These  slanders  against  the  generals, 
however,  circulated  so  freely  and  with  so 
much  effect  in  the  army,  that  the  troops 
became  widely  disaffected,  and  either  lost 
all  spirit  for  the  service  or  abandoned  it 
altogether.  Schuyler  himself  gives  this 
discouraging  account  of  his  force :  "  It 
consists  of  about  twenty-seven 
hundred  continental  troops;  of 
militia  from  the  state  of  Connecticut,  one 
major,  one  captain,  two  lieutenants,  twro 
ensigns,  one  adjutant,  one  quartermaster, 
six  sergeants,  one  drummer,  six  sick  and 
three  rank  and  file  fit  for  duty ;  the  rest, 
after  remaining  three  or  four  days,  desert 
ed  us  :  of  those  from  the  county  of  Berk 
shire  (in  the  Massachusetts),  who  consist 
ed  of  upward  of  twelve  hundred,  half  of 
which  were  to  have  remained,  somewThat 
more  than  two  hundred  are  left,  the  re 
mainder  having  also  deserted  :  of  Colonel 
Moseley's  regiment  from  the  county  of 
Hampshire  (Massachusetts),  about  ten  or 
twelve  are  left,  the  rest  having  deserted  : 
of  Colonel  Porter's  regiment  of  the  coun 
ty  of  Hampshire,  about  two  hundred  left : 
of  the  militia  of  the  county  of  Albany,  ten 
hundred  and  fifty  are  left,  being  forty-six 
more  than  half  of  what  were  upon  the 


500 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


ground,  when  it  was  resolved  to  let  half 

£3  / 

return  to  their  habitations." 

"  That  torpor,"  adds  Schuyler,  as  a  com 
mentary  upon  the  facts  he  had  just  stated, 
kk  criminal  indifference,  and  want  of  spirit, 
which  so  generally  prevails,  is  more  dan 
gerous  than  all  the  efforts  of  the  enemy. 
Nor  is  that  jealousy  and  spirit  of  detrac 
tion,  which  so  unhappily  prevails,  of  small 
detriment  to  our  cause." 

Major-General  Arnold,  flattered  by  the 
complimentary  preference  of  Washington, 
and  eager  for  action,  did  not  hesitate  to 
proceed  to  the  North  when  ordered  by 
Congress,  in  accordance  with  the  advice 
of  the  commander-in-chief.  Although  he 
would  thus  be  obliged  to  serve  under  St. 
Clair,  who  was  one  of  the  five  major-gen 
erals  whose  promotion  above  him  had  so 
grievously  wounded  Arnold's  spirit,  he 
yet  for  the  present  generously  waived  all 
personal  feeling, and  took  the  subordinate 
position.  On  joining  General  Schuyler, 
at  Fort  Edward,  Arnold  moved  with  the 
army  to  Moses'  creek,  and  received  the 
command  of  the  left  division,  encamped 
on  one  side  of  the  Hudson  river ;  while 
Major-General  St.  Clair  commanded  the 
right,  on  the  opposite  side. 

General  Burgoyne,  after  lingering  three 
weeks  at  Skenesborough,  at  length  began 
his  march  toward  the  south.  Instead  of 
returning  to  Ticonderoga,and  thence  pro 
ceeding  by  Lake  George  to  Fort  George 
(whence  there  was  a  good  road  to  Fort 
Edward,  which  was  his  object),  he  deter 
mined  to  strike  across  the  country  by  a 
more  direct  route.  Fearful,  however,  that 
turning  back  would  appear  like  a  retreat, 
and  thus  destroy  the  prestige  of  his  late 


triumph,  or  influenced  by  the  opinion  of 
the  tory  Major  Skene,  of  Skenesborough 
(who  is  suspected  of  having  advised  the 
land-route,  that  the  value  of  his  property, 
of  which  he  was  an  extensive  holder  in 
that  neighborhood,  might  be  enhanced  by 
a  military  road),  Burgoyne  marched  for 
ward.  His  route  was  naturally  a  difficult 
and  laborious  one,  through  a  country  of 
forest  and  swamp,  where  he  had  to  cut 
down  trees,  plunge  into  morasses,  and 
throw  bridges  across  the  numerous  creeks, 
ravines,  and  gulleys.  The  weather,  too, 
was  sultry,  and  the  musketoes  abounded, 
greatly  tormenting  his  men,  whose  Euro 
pean  freshness  seemed  to  provoke  these 
annoying  insects  to  more  than  ordinary 
bloodthirstiness.  Schuyler's  precautions 
in  destroying  the  bridges,  and  obstructing 
the  roads  and  passes  with  felled  trees,  also 
added  greatly  to  the  difficulties  and  de 
lays  of  Burgoyne's  march.  He,  however, 
continued  his  route  toward  Fort  Edward  ; 
while  General  Phillips,  with  the  artillery, 
provisions,  and  baggage,  guarded  by  a 
strong  detachment  of  troops,  proceeded 
by  the  way  of  Lake  George,  with  the  pur 
pose  of  forming  on  the  Hudson  a  junc 
tion  with  the  main  body,  which  had  pre 
ceded  him  by  land. 

In  the  course  of  his  progress,  while  the 
country  was  impressed  by  his  recent  tri 
umphs  and  his  overwhelming  force,  Bur 
goyne  strove  to  induce  the  inhabitants  to 
abandon  the  American  cause.  He  issued 
a  swelling  proclamation,  abounding  in  the 
usual  promises  of  reward  for  compliance 
and  threats  of  punishment  for  disobedi 
ence.  General  Schuyler  put  forth  a  no 
less  rhetorical  counter-edict,  in  which  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CAPTURE  OF  GENERAL  PRESCOTT. 


501 


people,  being  reminded  how  the  British 
in  New  Jersey  had  "cruelly  butchered, 
without  distinction  of  age  or  sex;  ravished 
children  from  ten  to  women  of  eighty 
years  of  age ;"  burned,  pillaged,  and  de 
stroyed,  not  even  sparing  "  in  their  sacri 
legious  fury  those  edifices  dedicated  to 
the  worship  of  Almighty  God,"  were  told 
that  the  same  fate  awaited  them. 

While  everything  thus  appeared  so  dis 
astrous  for  the  American  cause  in  the 
North,  an  event  occurred  in  Ehode  Isl 
and  which, however  trifling  in  itself, great 
ly  stimulated  the  spirit  of  the  country. 
General  Prescott  was  in  command  of  the 
British  troops  at  Rhode  island,  and  held 
his  headquarters  at  a  farmhouse  near  the 
water,  about  five  miles  from  Newport. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Barton,  in  command 
of  a  regiment  of  Rhode-Island  militia,  de 
termined  to  surprise  him  and  carry  him 
off.  He  accordingly  selected  thirty-eight 
men,  in  whom  he  had  confidence,  and  set 
out  on  the  expedition  one  dark  night. 
From  Warwick  neck  they  rowed  over  in 
two  boats,  with  muffled  oars,  to  the  op 
posite  side  of  the  bay,  a  distance  of  ten 
miles.  Having  passed  the  British  men- 
of-war  and  guard-boats  without  exciting 
alarm,  they  landed,  and  silently  proceed 
ed  on.  Upon  reaching  the  house,  they 
secured  the  sentinel,  and  entered.  Arri 
ving  at  the  door  of  the  room  where  the 
British  general  slept,  they  found  it  locked; 
whereupon  a  negro  of  the  name  of  Prince, 
who  was  at  Barton's  side,  and  is  spoken 


of  as  his  "  confidential  friend,"  with  a  leap 
"  plunged  his  head  against  the  door,  and 
knocked  out  the  panel,  through  which  the 
colonel  entered."*  Prescott  was  found  in 
bed,  and  immediately  secured.  His  aid- 
de-camp  attempted  to  escape  from  the 
house  by  leaping  through  a  window,  but 
was  caught  and  carried  over  to  the  main 
land  together  with  the  general.  Barton 
and  his  party  returned  with  their  prize 
across  the  bay,  silently  and  cautiously  as 
they  came.  Prescott,  who  seemed  great 
ly  surprised  at  the  success  of  Barton's  en 
terprise,  remarked  to  him  as  they  landed, 
"  Sir,  I  did  not  think  it  possible  you  could 
escape  the  vigilance  of  the  water-guards." 
The  boldness,  skill,  and  success,  with 
which  the  enterprise  had  been  conducted, 
were  highly  lauded.  Congress  voted  Bar 
ton  a  sword,  and  promoted  him  to  the 
rank  of  a  colonel  of  the  continental  army. 
The  country  exulted  more  particularly 
over  the  capture  of  Prescott,  because  in 
an  officer  of  his  rank  they  held  an  equiv 
alent  for  Major-General  Lee,  still  a  pris 
oner,  for  whom  Washington  immediately 
proposed  to  exchange  the  British  com 
mander.  In  the  meanwhile,  Prescott  was 
ordered  to  be  "  genteelly  accommodated, 
but  strongly  guarded,"  and  removed  into 
some  place  "  where  the  people  are  gener 
ally  well  affected."  He  was  refused  his 
liberty  on  parole,  and  it  was  determined 
to  treat  him  in  every  respect  as  Lee  was 
treated  by  the  British. 

*  Holmes's  Annals  of  America. 


502 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


CHAPTER    LI. 

Puzzling  Conduct  of  General  Howe. — He  is  supposed  to  seek  a  Junction  with  General  Burgoync. — Lord  Stirling  sent  to 
Peekskill. — The  Departure  of  the  British  Fleet  from  New  York. — A  Pithy  Letter  from  General  Putnam. — A  Trick  of 
the  British  exposed. — The  Enemy  off  the  Capes  of  Delaware. — They  sail  away  again. — Washington  perplexed. — lie 
moves  his  Army  to  Germantown. — Washington  in  Philadelphia. — Meeting  with  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette. — His  Life 
and  Character. — His  Devotion  to  the  American  Cause. — His  Interviews  with  Franklin  and  Deane. — His  Escape  from 
Franco. — Arrival  in  America. — His  First  Impressions. — His  Joyous  Progress. — His  First  Rebuff. — Final  Success. — 
Appointed  Major-General. — Becomes  a  Member  of  Washington's  Family. — Washington's  Opinion  of  Him — Count 
Pulaski. — His  Life  and  Character. — He  is  appointed  Major-General  and  Commander  of  the  Cavalry. 


1777, 


GENERAL  HOWE'S  "  conduct  is  puz 
zling    and    embarrassing    beyond 
measure ;  so  are  the  informations  which 


July  22, 


I  get/'  writes  Washington.    "  At 


one  time  the  ships  are  standing 
up  toward  the  North  river;  in  a  little 
they  are  going  up  the  sound ;  and  in  an 
hour  after  they  are  going  out  of  the  Hook." 
Washington,  however,  was  for  awhile  so 
far  persuaded  that  Howe's  object  was  to 
form  a  junction  with  General  Burgoyne, 
by  the  Hudson,  that  he  sent  Lord  Stir 
ling  with  his  division  to  Peekskill,  and 
moved  with  the  rest  of  his  army  to  Ram- 
apo.  But,  while  here,  he  learned  that 
,  Sir  William  Howe  had  left  New 

York,  with  a  fleet  of  two  hun 
dred  and  sixty-seven  sail,  and  a  land-force 
of  about  sixteen  thousand  men,  made  up 
of  thirty-six  British  and  Hessian  battal 
ions,  a  powerful  artillery,  a  New-York 
corps  called  the  Queen's  Rangers,  and  a 
regiment  of  light-horse.  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  was  left  at  New  York  with  seventeen 
battalions,  a  regiment  of  light-horse,  and 
a  corps  of  American  loyalists.  Clinton 
had  been  to  Europe,  and  his  return  was 
first  made  known  to  General  Putnam  by 


receiving  from  him  a  flag  of  truce,  with 
a  demand  to  give  up  Lieutenant  Palmer. 
This  provoked  the  following  memorable 

reply :- 

"HEADQUARTERS,  7  Aug.,  1777. 

"  Edmund  Palmer,  an  officer  in  the  ene 
my's  service,  was  taken  as  a  spy,  lurking 
within  our  lines;  he  has  been  tried  as  a 
spy,  condemned  as  a  spy,  and  shall  be 
executed  as  a  spy,  and  the  flag  is  ordered 
to  depart  immediately. 

"ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

"  P.  S. — He  has  been  accordingly  exe 
cuted." 

Washington  also  received  such  infor 
mation  as  induced  him  to  believe  that 
tlie  Delaware  was  General  Howe's  desti 
nation.  It  became  necessaiy,  therefore, 
to  move  the  army  back  again  in  that  di 
rection,  and  to  recall  the  divisions  of  Lord 
Stirling  and  General  Sullivan  from  the 
Hudson  river. 

As  Washington  was  preparing  for  his 
march  toward  the  Delaware,  he  received 
through  General  Putnam  the  following 
letter,  addressed  to  General  Burgoyne, 

O      •/  / 

which  a  young  man  had  brought  into  the 
American  camp  at  Peekskill:  — 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         A  BRITISH  TRICK.— WASHINGTON  PERPLEXED. 


503 


(<NKW  YORK,  July  20,  1777. 
SIR:  I  have  received  your  let 
ter  of  the  14th  of  May,  from  Quebec,  and 
shall  fully  observe   the   contents.     The 

expedition  to  B n  [Boston]  will  take 

place  of  that  up  the  North  river.  If,  ac 
cording  to  my  expectations,  we  may  suc 
ceed  rapidly  in  the  possession  of  B , 

the  enemy  having  no  force  of  consequence 
there,  1  shall,  without  loss  of  time,  pro 
ceed  to  co-operate  with  you  in  the  defeat 
of  the  rebel  army  opposed  to  you.  Clin 
ton  is  sufficiently  strong  to  amuse  Wash 
ington  and  Putnam.  I  am  now  making 
demonstration  to  the  southward,  which  I 
think  will  have  the  full  effect  in  carrying 
our  plan  into  execution.  Success  attend 
you!  "W.  HOWE." 

The  story  of  the  young  man  who  had 
presented  himself,  and  given  up  the  let 
ter,  was  this  :  He  had,  he  said,  been  a  pris 
oner  in  New  York,  and  was  offered  a  hand 
some  sum  for  carrying  the  letter  to  Gen 
eral  Burgoyne,  which  at  first  he  refused 
to  do,  but  subsequently  consented,  with 
the  intention  of  taking  it  to  she  American 
camp.  Washington  no  sooner  read  the 
letter,  than  he  saw  that  it  was  a  trick. 
"It  was  evidently  intended,"  says  he,  "  to 
fall  into  our  hands.  The  complexion  of 
it,  the  circumstances  attending  it,  evince 
this  beyond  a  doubt  in  my  mind."  He 
accordingly  urged  Putnam  to  lose  no  time 
in  sending  on  General  Sullivan  and  Lord 
Stirling  with  their  divisions,  while  Wash 
ington  himself  moved  the  main  body  to 
Coryell's  ferry  on  the  Delaware,  in  order 
to  be  ready  to  cross  that  river  as  soon 
as  the  enemy  made  a  movement  toward 
Philadelphia.  To  General  Gates,  who  was 


then  in  that  city,  Washington  wrote,  ur 
ging  him  to  be  on  the  alert  for  informa 
tion,  and  to  transmit  it  as  soon  as  he  had 
ascertained  it  to  his  satisfaction ;  for  he 
declares  that  he  himself  will  pay  no  re 
gard  to  any  flying  reports  of  the  appear 
ance  of  the  fleet. 

From  Philadelphia  soon  came  the  in 
telligence  that  the  enemy  had  arrived  off 
the  capes  of  Delaware.  Next  day,  how 
ever,  an  express  came  hurrying  into  the 
camp  with  the  news  that  the  fleet  had 
borne  away  again,  taking  an  easterly 
course.  "Now,  surely  the  North  river 
must  be  their  object,"  thought  Washing 
ton  ;  and  he  orders  General  Sullivan  back 
again  to  Peekskill,  for  the  "  importance 
of  preventing  Mr.  Howe's  getting  posses 
sion  of  the  Highlands,  by  a  coup  de  mam, 
is  infinite  to  America."  Washington,  thus 
perplexed  by  the  strange  movements  of 
the  enemy,  finally  moves  his  army  across 
the  Delaware,  and  encamps  at  German- 
town,  about  six  miles  from  Phila 
delphia.  His  letter  to  his  broth 
er  Augustine  at  this  time  is  the  best  ex 
position  of  his  movements  and  perplexi 
ties  :  — 

"Since  General  Howe  removed  from 
the  Jerseys,"  writes  Washington,  "the 
troops  under  my  command  have  been 
more  harassed  by  marching  and  counter 
marching  than  by  any  other  thing  that 
has  happened  to  them  in  the  course  of 
the  campaign.  After  he  had  embarked 
his  troops,  the  presumption  that  he  would 
co-operate  upon  the  North  river,  to  form 
a  junction  with  General  Burgoyne,  was 
so  strong,  that  I  removed  from  Middle- 
brook  to  Morristown,  and  from  Morris- 


504 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


town  to  the  Clove,  a  narrow  passage  lead 
ing  through  the  Highlands,  about  eigh 
teen  miles  from  the  river.  Indeed,  upon 
some  pretty  strong  presumptive  evidence, 
I  threw  two  divisions  over  the  North  riv 
er.  In  this  situation  we  lay  till  about  the 
2 4 th  ultimo  [July],  when,  receiving  cer 
tain  information  that  the  fleet  had  actu 
ally  sailed  from  Sandy  Hook,  and  upon 
the  concurring  sentiment  of  every  one, 
though  I  acknowledge  my  doubts  of  it 
were  strong,  that  Philadelphia  was  their 
object,  we  countermarched,  and  got  to 
Cory  ell's  ferry  on  the  Delaware,  about 
thirty-three  miles  above  the  city,  on  the 
27th  [July],  where  I  lay  until  I  received 
information  from  Congress  that  the  ene 
my  were  actually  at  the  capes  of  Dela 
ware.  This  brought  us  in  great  haste  to 
this  place  [German town],  for  the  defence 
of  the  city  [Philadelphia].  But,  in  less 
than  twenty-four  hours  after  our  arrival, 
we  got  accounts  of  the  disappearance  of 
the  fleet  on  the  31st  [July]  ;  since  which, 
nothing  having  been  heard  of  them,  we 
have  remained  here  in  a  very  irksome 
state  of  suspense ;  some  imagining  that 
they  are  gone  to  the  southward,  whilst  a 
majority,  in  whose  opinion  upon  this  oc 
casion  I  concur,  are  satisfied  that  they  are 
gone  eastward.  The  fatigue,  however, 
and  injury,  which  men  must  sustain  by 
long  marches  in  such  extreme  heat  as  we 
have  felt  for  the  last  five  days,  must  keep 
us  quiet  till  we  hear  something  of  the 
destination  of  the  enemy." 

While  the  army  was  encamped  at  Ger- 
mantown,  Washington  was  frequently  in 
Philadelphia.  On  one  of  these  occasions 
Ii9  for  the  first  time  met  the  marquis  de 


Lafayette,  at  dinner.  When  the  party 
was  breaking  up,  Washington  took  him 
aside,  and,  having  complimented  him  up 
on  the  noble  disinterestedness  which  he 
had  shown  in  behalf  of  the  American 
cause,invited  him  to  headquarters,  telling 
him  that  he  might  always  consider  it  as 
his  home,  and  himself  as  one  of  the  fam 
ily.  The  American  commander,  however, 
remarked  in  a  tone  of  pleasantry  that  he 
could  not  promise  him  the  luxuries  of  a 
court,  or  even  the  conveniences  which 
his  former  habits  might  have  rendered 
essential  to  his  comfort-  but  added  that, 
since  the  young  nobleman  had  become 
an  American  soldier,  he  would  doubtless 
try  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  char 
acter  which  he  had  assumed,  and  submit 
to  the  manners,  customs,  and  privations, 
of  a  republican  army. 

The  marquis  GILBERT  MOTHER  DE  LA 
FAYETTE  was  born  on  the  6th  of  Septem 
ber,  1757,  at  Chavagnac,  in  the  province 
of  Auvergne,  France,  and  was  married  be 
fore  he  was  eighteen  years  of  age  to  the 
grand-daughter  of  the  due  de  Noailles. 
Like  most  French  youth  of  rank  and  for 
tune  at  that  time,  he  entered  the  army ; 
and,  while  on  duty  at  Metz,  he  tells  us 
that  his  enthusiasm  in  behalf  of  the  Amer 
ican  cause  was  first  awakened.  The  duke 
of  Gloucester,  a  brother  of  King  George 
III,  happened  to  be  on  a  visit  to  Metz, 
where  he  was  complimented  with  a  din 
ner  by  the  commandant  of  the  place.  The 
young  marquis  de  Lafayette  was  one  of 
the  guests  on  the  occasion.  The  Ameri 
can  war  (apropos  to  some  despatches  late 
ly  received  in  England)  became  a  topic 
of  conversation  at  dinner;  and,  although 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         MARQUIS  GILBERT  MOTTIER  DE  LAFAYETTE. 


505 


the  royal  English  duke  was  not  likely  to 
have  given  a  very  favorable  coloring  to 
the  cause  of  the  "rebels,"  Lafayette's  in 
terest  was  at  once  so  much  awakened  by 
his  grace's  talk,  that,  even  before  he  arose 
from  the  table,  the  thought  suggested  it 
self  to  him  of  offering  his  services  in  be 
half  of  a  people  struggling  for  independ 
ence. 

With  his  young  heart  filled  with  en 
thusiasm  for  liberty,  the  marquis  hurries 
to  Paris,  and  there  seeks  out  his  two  bo 
som  friends,  Count  Segur  and  Viscount 
de  Noailles,  to  whom  he  announces  his 
intention  to  go  to  America,  and  entreats 
them  to  join  him  in  the  enterprise.  They 
readily  consent ;  but,  on  consulting  their 
parents,  upon  whom  they  are  dependent 
for  support,  they  are  forced  to  abandon 
the  scheme.  They,  however,  kept  their 
friend's  secret.  Lafayette,  being  in  the 
enjoyment  of  an  income  of  nearly  forty 
thousand  dollars  a  year,  was  in  a  position 
of  greater  independence  than  his  youth 
ful  companions,  and  therefore  resolutely 
clung  to  his  original  plan.  He  soon  ob 
tained  an  interview  with  the  count  de 
Broglie,  then  prime  minister  under  Louis 
XVI.,  who,  with  the  cautious  prudence  of 
age,  strove  to  deter  the  young  enthusiast 
from  what  appeared  to  him  a  rash  and 
dangerous  enterprise.  "  I  have,"  said  the 
veteran,  "  seen  your  uncle  die  in  the  wars 
of  Italy  ;  I  witnessed  your  father's  death 
at  the  battle  of  Minden ;  and  I  will  not 
be  accessory  to  the  ruin  of  the  only  re 
maining  branch  of  the  family." 

De  Broglie  continued  urgently  to  coun 
sel  the  youthful  marquis  against  the  un 
dertaking  ;  but,  finding  his  efforts  useless, 


he  introduced  him  to  Baron  de  Kalb,  a 
Prussian  officer,  who  had  been  in  Amer 
ica,  in  order  that  the  inexperienced  La 
fayette  might  obtain  from  him  the  intro 
ductions  and  information  he  desired.  De 
Kalb  presented  him  to  Silas  Deane,  the 
American  commissioner  in  Paris.  "  When 
I  presented  my  boyish  face  to  Mr.  Deane," 
says  Lafayette,  "I  spoke  more  of  my  ar 
dor  in  the  cause  than  of  rny  experience  ; 
but  I  dwelt  much  upon  the  effect  my  de 
parture  would  excite  in  France,  and  he 
signed  our  agreement."  The  purport  of 
this  agreement  was,  that  the  young  mar 
quis  should,  on  joining  the  American  ser 
vice,  receive  from  Congress  the  appoint 
ment  of  major-general,  and  be  conveyed 
to  America  in  a  vessel  about  to  sail,  with 
munitions  of  war  for  the  patriot  armies. 
In  the  meantime,  news  having  arrived  of 
the  success  of  the  British  at  Fort  Wash 
ington,  and  of  the  subsequent  retreat  of 
the  American  army  through  New  Jersey, 
the  activity  of  French  sympathy  was  so 
far  checked,  that  the  despatching  of  the 
French  vessel  with  supplies  was  necessa 
rily  abandoned. 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  ardent  Lafay 
ette  was,  however,  proof  against  the  most 
disastrous  news.  When  urged  to  give 
up  his  scheme,  he  answered :  "  My  zeal 
and  love  of  liberty  have,  perhaps,  been 
hitherto  the  prevailing  motives  ;  but  now 
I  see  a  chance  for  usefulness,  which  I  had 
not  anticipated.  I  have  money:  I  will 
purchase  a  ship,  which  shall  convey  to 
America  myself,  my  companions,  and  the 
freight  for  Congress."  Accordingly,  he  did 
purchase  a  ship  j  and,  while  it  was  fitting 
at  Bordeaux,  for  sea,  Lafayette  took  the 


506 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


PATCT    II. 


occasion  of  visiting  England.  His  wife's 
uncle,  the  marquis  de  Noailles,  was  the 
French  embassador  in  London ;  and  un 
der  such  auspices  he  was,  of  course,  read 
ily  admitted  to  the  court  and  the  society 
which  gathered  about  it.  His  first  visit, 
however,  was  to  an  American,  Mr.  Ban 
croft.  He  was  subsequently  presented  to 
the  king ;  he  danced  at  the  homes  of  Lord 
George  Germain,  then  minister  of  Ameri- 

O  ' 

can  affairs,  and  of  Lord  Rawdon,  who  had 
just  returned  from  New  York ;  and  joined 
General  Sir  Henry  Clinton  in  his  box  at 
the  opera,  whom  he  was  destined  after 
ward  to  meet  as  an  enemy  on  the  field 
of  battle.  Lafayette  says,  in  regard  to 
these  intimacies  with  the  society  of  Lon 
don  :  "  Whilst  I  concealed  rny  intentions 
of  going  to  make  war  in  America,  I  open 
ly  avowed  my  sentiments;  I  often  defend 
ed  the  Americans ;  I  rejoiced  at  their  suc 
cess  at  Trenton ;  and  my  opposition  spirit 
obtained  for  me  an  invitation  to  break 
fast  with  Lord  Shelburne.  I  refused  the 
offers  made  me  to  visit  the  seaports,  the 
vessels  fitting  out  against  the  rebels,  and 
everything  that  might  be  construed  into 
an  abuse  of  confidence." 

On  Lafayette's  return  to  France,  he 
concealed  himself  for  some  days  at  Passy, 
where  he  saw  but  a  few  of  his  personal 
friends  and  some  Americans,  among  whom 
was  Doctor  Franklin,  who,  with  Arthur 
Lee,  of  Virginia,  had  become  joint  com 
missioners  with  Deane.  Franklin  admired 
the  spirit  and  generous  disinterestedness 
of  the  marquis,  and  furthered  his  objects. 
On  Lafayette's  leaving  for  Bordeaux,  to 
embark,  the  French  government,  thro  ugh 
the  complaint  of  the  British  embassador 


in  Paris,  was  on  the  alert,  and  strove  to 
prevent  his  departure.  His  family  also, 
with  the  exception  of  his  young  wife,  who 
shared  in  her  husband's  enthusiasm  for 
the  American  cause,  were  anxious  that 
he  should  abandon  his  scheme.  He  suc 
ceeded  in  reaching  Bordeaux,  and  imme 
diately  set  sail  for  Passage,  a  small  sea 
port  in  Spain,  where  he  proposed  to  wait 
for  the  ship's  papers.  Here,  however,  fol 
lowed  him  a  lettre  de  cachet  from  the  king, 
forbidding  his  departure,  and  letters  from 
the  government  ministers  and  from  his 
family,  insisting  up  the  abandonment  of 
his  enterprise.  But  finally,  after  some 
hair- breadth  escapes  from  pursuit,  and 
meeting  with  one  or  two  romantic  adven 
tures,  he  got  safely  to  sea,  leaving  his 
young  wife  and  child  behind  him.  Bar 
on  de  Kalb  and  several  other  military 
personages,  looking  for  service  in  Amer 
ica,  accompanied  him.  The  ship  arrived 
at  Charleston,  and  the  young  marquis's 
impressions  seem  to  have  been  of  the 
most  agreeable  kind.  The  democratic 
features  of  American  life  were  the  first 
to  catch  the  eye  of  the  high-born  noble 
man  fresh  from  the  ceremonious  court  of 
Versailles,  but  the  effect  was  apparently 
no  less  delightful  than  new. 

"  I  will  now  tell  you,"  writes  Lafayette 
to  his  wife,  "  about  the  country  and  its 
inhabitants.  They  are  as  agreeable  as 
my  enthusiasm  had  painted  them.  Sim 
plicity  of  manners,  kindness,  love  of  coun 
try  and  of  liberty,  and  a  delightful  equal 
ity,  everywhere  prevail.  The  wealthiest 
man  and  the  poorest  are  on  a  level ;  and, 
although  there  are  some  large  fortunes, 
I  challenge  any  one  to  discover  the  slight- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         LAFAYETTE  JOINS  THE  ARMY.— HIS  IMPRESSIONS. 


507 


cst  difference  between  the  manners  of 
these  two  classes  respectively  toward  each 
other.  I  first  saw  the  country-life  at  the 
house  of  Major  Huger.  I  am  now  in  the 
city  [Charleston],  where  everything  is 
very  much  after  the  English  fashion,  ex 
cept  that  there  is  more  simplicity,  equal 
ity,  cordiality,  and  courtesy,  here  than  in 
England. 

"  The  city  of  Charleston  is  one  of  the 
handsomest  and  best  built,  and  the  inhab 
itants  among  the  most  agreeable,  that  I 
have  ever  seen.  The  American  women 
are  very  pretty,  simple  in  their  manners, 
and  exhibit  a  neatness  which  is  every 
where  cultivated,  even  more  studiously 
than  in  England.  What  most  charms  me 
is,  that  all  the  citizens  are  brethren.  In 
America,  there  are  no  poor,  nor  even  what 
we  call  peasantry.  Each  individual  has 
his  own  honest  property,  and  the  same 
rights  as  the  most  wealthy  landed  propri 
etor.  The  inns  are  very  different  from 
those  of  Europe  :  the  host  and  hostess  sit 
at  table  with  you,  and  do  the  honors  of  a 
comfortable  meal ;  and,  on  going  away, 
you  pay  your  bill  without  higgling.  When 
one  does  not  wish  to  go  to  an  inn,  there 
are  country-houses  where  the  title  of  a 
good  American  is  a  sufficient  passport  to 
all  those  civilities  paid  in  Europe  to  one's 
friend." 

Receiving  everywhere  a  flattering  wel 
come,  the  young  Lafayette  goes  on  joy 
ously  from  South  to  North  Carolina,  and 
thence  through  Virginia  to  Maryland  and 
Pennsylvania.  On  reaching  Philadelphia, 
where  Congress  was  assembled,  he  sub 
mits  his  letters  to  Mr.  Lovell,  the  chair 
man  of  the  committee  of  foreign  affairs, 


The  next  day,  Lafayette  presents  himself 
at  the  hall  of  Congress,  where  Mr.  Lovell 
comes  out  to  meet  him,  with  the  discour 
aging  intelligence  that,  as  Congress  had 
been  embarrassed  with  the  applications 
of  so  many  foreigners,  there  was  but  little 
chance  of  his  success.  The  young  mar 
quis,  however,  was  not  to  be  driven  away 
by  such  a  rebuff:  so  he  immediately  wrote 
to  the  president  of  Congress,  asking  per 
mission  to  serve  in  the  American  army, 
on  these  two  conditions :  that  he  should 
receive  no  pay,  and  that  he  should  act  as 
a  volunteer.  These  terms  were  so  differ 
ent  from  those  asked  by  the  crowd  of  for 
eign  military  adventurers,  that  they  were 
at  once  accepted ;  and  the  youthful  La 
fayette,  not  yet  twenty  years  of  age,  was 
appointed  major-general  in  the  American 
army. 

His  encouraging  reception  by  Wash 
ington,  added  to  the  success  of  his  final 
application  to  Congress, greatly  inspirited 
Lafayette,  and  he  became  eager  for  ser 
vice.  His  horses  and  equipage  were  im 
mediately  sent  to  the  camp  at  German- 
town  ;  and  he  availed  himself  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief's  invitation,  and  became, 
as  it  were,  a  member  of  his  family.  On 
the  very  next  day  after  making  his  ac 
quaintance  at  the  dinner-party,  Washing 
ton  invited  him  to  ride  out  with  him,  to 
inspect  the  fortifications  on  the  Delaware. 
These  courtesies  flattered  the  marquis, 
but  did  not  satisfy  his  desires.  He  did 
not  seem  to  understand  the  honorary  na 
ture  of  his  major-generalship,  and  expect 
ed  the  rank  to  be  accompanied  by  a  com 
mand.  '•  It  is  true  he  has  said,"  writes 
Washington,  "  that  he  is  young  and  inex- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


perienced,  but  at  the  same  time  has  al 
ways  accompanied  it  with  a  hint  that,  so 
soon  as  I  shall  think  him  fit  for  the  com 
mand  of  a  division,  he  shall  be  ready  to 
enter  upon  the  duties  of  it,  and  in  the 
meantime  has  offered  his  services  for  a 
smaller  command  ;  to  which  I  may  add, 
that  he  has  actually  applied  to  me,  by 
direction,  he  says,  from  Mr.  Hancock,  for 
commissions  for  his  two  aids-de-camp." 
Washington  was  perplexed  by  the  perti 
nacity  of  the  young  and  ardent  French 
man,  and  asked  for  instructions  from  Con 
gress.  That  body  replied  that  Lafayette's 
appointment  was  only  honorary,  and  that 
Washington  was  at  liberty  to  use  his  own 
judgment  in  regard  to  the  bestowal  of  a 
command.  The  young  marquis  was  ac 
cordingly  left  for  the  present  in  the  en 
joyment  only  of  the  rank  of  a  major-gen 
eral,  while  he  served  in  the  army  as  a 
volunteer. 

Lafayette  is  described  as  being  at  this 
early  period  nearly  six  feet  high,  large 
but  not  corpulent,  and  not  very  elegant 
in  person,  his  shoulders  being  broad  and 
high.  His  features  were  irregular,  his 
forehead  remarkably  high,  his  nose  large 
and  long ;  his  eyebrows  projected  promi 
nently  over  his  eyes,  which  were  full  of 
fire,  and  of  a  hazel  color.  He  spoke  but 
few  words  of  broken  English/11 

Baron  DE  KALB,  who  came  over  from 
France  with  Lafayette,  was  also  (though 
subsequently  to  the  appointment  of  the 
marquis)  made  a  major-general.  The  ser 
vices  of  most  of  the  other  French  officers, 
howeveiyvvho  accompanied  them,were  not 
accepted,  and  they  returned  home. 

*  Timelier. 


Another  distinguished  foreigner  soon 
presented  himself  at  the  headquarters  of 
the  command er-in-chief.  "  Count  Pulaski, 
of  Poland,  an  officer  famous  throughout 
Europe  for  his  bravery  and  conduct  in 
defence  of  the  liberties  of  his  country 
against  the  three  great  invading  powers 
of  Russia,  Austria,  and  Prussia,  will  have 
the  honor  of  delivering  this  into  your  ex 
cellency's  hands,"  were  the  words  of  Doc 
tor  Franklin,  in  the  letter  written  by  him 
at  Paris  to  Washington,  introducing  the 
illustrious  Pole. 

Count  CASIMIR  PULASKI,  in  the  rebellion 
against  King  Stanislaus  Augustus,  of  Po 
land  (who,  as  a  creature  of  the  empress 
Catharine  II.,  was  upheld  on  the  throne 
against  the  wishes  of  the  nation),  had  al 
ready  given  proof  of  his  devotion  to  lib 
erty.  His  father  had  sacrificed  his  life  in 
the  same  cause,  and  the  son  succeeded 
him  as  the  leader  of  the  insurgents ;  but, 
failing  to  gather  a  sufficient  force  to  re 
sist  the  efforts  of  Russia,  in  conjunction 
with  the  Polish  king,  to  subdue  his  coun 
try,  young  Pulaski  determined  to  possess 
himself  of  the  person  of  Stanislaus,  and 
compel  him  to  head  the  people  in  their 
struggle  for  independence.  Accordingly, 
Pulaski,  with  thirty-nine  bold  associates, 
entered  Warsaw,  seized  the  king,  and  were 
carrying  him  off,  when  the  guard  came 
up  and  rescued  the  royal  prisoner.  Pu- 
laski's  meager  force  of  patriots  was  soon 
after  beaten  by  the  combined  armies  of 
Russia  and  Prussia,  and  he  himself  forced 
to  fly  from  the  country.  He  subsequent 
ly  joined  the  Turks,  in  whose  service  he 
fought  against  his  old  enemies  the  Rus 
sians.  When  the  war  was  over,  Pulaski 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COUNT  CASIMIR  PULASKL— BURGOYNE'S  ADVANCE. 


509 


went  to  Paris,  where  he  met  Franklin,  by 
whom,  on  his  resolving  to  go  to  America, 
he  was  commended,  as  we  have  seen,  to 
Washington. 

The  commander-in-chief  proposed  that 
Pulaski  should  have  the  command  of  the 
cavalry,  in  which  hitherto  there  had  been 
no  officer  of  higher  rank  than  colonel. 
GeneralJosephReed  had  been  offered  the 
appointment, but  had  declined.  Washing 
ton  recommended  Pulaski  for  the  com 
mand,  saying  to  the  president  of  Congress : 
"  This  gentleman,  we  are  told,  has  been, 


like  us,  engaged  in  defending  the  liberty 
and  independence  of  his  country,  and  has 
sacrificed  his  fortune  to  his  zeal  for  those 
objects.  He  derives  from  hence  a  title 
to  our  respect,  that  ought  to  operate  in 
his  favor,  as  far  as  the  good  of  the  ser 
vice  will  permit." 

Count  Pulaski  was  raised  to  the  rank 
of  brigadier-general  by  Congress,  and,  af 
ter  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  given 
the  command  of  the  cavalry,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  suggestion  made  by  the 
commander-in-chief. 


CHAPTER   LI  I. 

Burgoyne's  Progress. — General  Schuyler  moves  his  Camp  to  Fort  Miller. — Alarm  of  the  Country. — Schuyler  rebukes  the 
Cowards. — His  Efforts  for  Defence. — Burgoyne  rallies  the  Savages. — Unchecked  Ferocity. — Story  of  Jane  M'Crea. — 

Burgoyne  horrified. — Impotent  Attempt  to  punish  the  Murderers. — The  Effect  of  the  Tragedy  upon  the  Country. 

Burgoyne  pushes  on  to  Fort  Edward. — The  Americans  retire  to  Stilhvater. — The  British  besiege  Fort  Stanwix. — A 
Summons  unheeded. — Peter  Gansevoort  in  Command. — Old  Herkitner  to  the  Rescue. — A  Struggle. — A  Fratricidal 
Fight. — The  Patriots  in  Possession  of  the  Field. — Death  of  Herkimer. — Schuyler  sends  Relief  to  the  Patriots  on  the 
Mohawk. 


1777, 


GENERAL  BURGOYNE  continued  his 
toilsome  march  toward  the  Hudson, 
and  so  slow  was  his  progress,  that  he  did 
not  reach  Fort  Anne  till  the  end  of  July, 
On  his  approach,  General  Schuyler  aban 
doned  his  position  at  Moses'  creek,  and 
moved  down  the  Hudson  to  Fort  Miller. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  country  were  still 
in  great  alarm,  and  fled  from  their  houses 
and  their  farms,  abandoning  to  the  enemy 
their  flocks  and  ripening  harvests  as  ths 
British  advanced.  The  people  even  in 
Albany  were  panic-stricken,  and  called 
upon  Schuyler  for  protection.  Vexed  at 
their  unmanly  fears,  Schuyler  strove  to 


inspire  them  with  greater  fortitude.  "  Is 
it,"  he  writes,  "  becoming  rational  beings, 
when  a  misfortune  has  happened  to  them, 
to  despond  and  not  to  counteract  the  evil  ? 
Surely  not;  and,  if  the  militia  would  do 
their  duty,  we  should  soon  make  the  en 
emy  repent  their  ever  having  come  into 
the  country,  and  retreat  with  infinitely 
more  loss  than  we  have  experienced  ;  but 
if  the  militia  will  sit  still,  folding  their 
arms,  and  not  make  use  of  those  exer 
tions  which  God  has  put  in  their  power 
to  make  use  of  for  their  own  defence,  they 
certainly  will  become  the  victims  of  an 
enemy  whose  very  mercies  are  cruelty." 


510 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAKT  n. 


General  Schuyler  in  the  meantime  was 
unwearied  in  his  efforts  to  bring  all  the 
resources  of  the  country  to  bear  in  its  de 
fence.  He  wrote  the  most  pressing  let 
ters  to  the  governors  of  New  England,  to 
,he  committees  of  safety,  and  to  Washing 
ton,  asking  for  reinforcements.  From  the 
commander-in-chief  he  soon  received  the 
encouraging  response  that  he  would  de 
spatch  General  Lincoln,  of  Massachusetts, 
to  use  his  great  influence  in  calling  out 
the  militia  of  New  England  ;  and  Colonel 
Morgan,  with  his  riflemen,  to  protect  the 
country  against  the  barbarous  Indian  al 
lies  of  the  British. 

General  Burgoyne  had  gathered  to 
gether  a  large  force  of  Indian  warriors. 
To  those  which  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  Canada  were  now  added  the  Otta- 
wras  and  allied  tribes.  It  was  supposed 
by  the  British  government  that  these  sav 
ages  would  terrify  the  country,  and  such 
had  been  its  object  in  employing  them. 
Burgoyne,  naturally  a  humane  person, 
had  hoped  to  keep  the  cruel  instincts  of 
the  Indians  in  check  by  the  exercise  of 
military  discipline,  and  the  influence  of 
the  French-Canadians  who  led  them  on. 
These  wild  denizens  of  the  forest  fully 
served  the  purpose  designed  of  inspiring 
terror,  but  it  was  soon  found  impractica 
ble  to  keep  them  within  the  constraints 
of  civilized  warfare.  A  tragic  incident 
now  occured,  which  proved  how  useless 
had  been  Burgoyne's  attempt  to  tame  the 
ferocity  of  his  Indian  allies.  The  British 
army  had  reached  Fort  Anne,  and  was 
preparing  to  move  on  to  Fort  Edward. 
The  Americans  had  retired  with  their 
main  body,  leaving  a  rear-guard  at  the 


fort,  ready  to  evacuate  it  on  the  approach 
of  the  enemy  in  force. 

Near  Fort  Edward  lived  a  Mrs.  M-'Neil, 
who,  being  a  royalist  in  sentiment  and  a 
kinswoman  of  General  Fraser,  remained, 
awaiting  without  alarm  the  approach  of 
the  British  troops,  while  most  of  the  in 
habitants  were  flying.  With  Mrs.  M-Neil 
there  lingered  one,  however,  who,  though 
belonging  to  an  American  family,  did  net 
share  in  the  anxious  alarms  of  her  coun 
trymen.  This  was  Jane  M'Crea,  the  daugh 
ter  of  a  Scotch  Presbyterian  clergyman, 
of  New  Jersey.  Her  father  was  dead,  and 
she  had  gone  to  live  with  a  brother  resi 
ding  near  Fort  Edward,  but  who,  as  he 
was  a  patriot,  had  abandoned  his  home 
on  the  approach  of  the  enemy,  and  fled 
to  Albany.  He  strove  to  persuade  his 
sister  to  accompany  him,  but  without  sue 
cess.  He  wrote  to  her  again  and  again, 
to  entreat  her  to  join  him,  but  she  still 
lingered  behind.  She  was  now  a  guest 
of  Mrs.  M'Neil,  and,  like  that  lady,  fear 
lessly  awaited  the  approach  of  the  Brit 
ish,  for  she  knew  that  she  had  one  among 
them  who  would  protect  her  to  the  ut 
most  of  his  power.  This  was  her  lover. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  her  brother's 
home  at  Fort  Edward  there  lived  a  youth 
of  the  name  of  David  Jones.  He  and 
Jane  M'Crea  became  lovers,  and  were  be 
trothed.  His  family,  however,  were  loy 
alists,  while  hers  were  wings ;  and,  when 
war  broke  out,  a  separation  took  place. 
Young  Jones  volunteered  to  serve  in  the 
royal  army,  and,  leaving  his  betrothed  at 
the  home  of  her  patriot  brother,  went  to 
Canada, where  he  received  the  king's  com- 
mission  as  a  lieutenant.  Having  joined 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  STORY  OF  JANE  M'CREA. 


Burgoyne,  he  was  now  marching,  with  the 
division  under  General  Fraser,  toward  his 
former  home,  and  with  eager  expectation 
of  meeting  his  beloved. 

As  rumors  reached  MissM'Crea's  broth 
er,  at  Albany,  of  the  advance  of  the  ene 
my,  and  of  the  terror  with  which  their 
savage  allies  were  filling  the  whole  coun 
try,  he  sent  a  peremptory  command  to 
his  sister  to  go  down' to  him.  She  finally 
though  reluctantly  consented,  and  pre 
pared  to  leave,  in  company  with  several 
families,  in  a  large  batteau,  which  wras 
about  to  sail.  On  the  morning  of  the  day 
proposed  for  departure,  the  whole  region 
was  suddenly  alarmed  by  the  intelligence 
that  some  of  Burgoyne's  Indians  were 
prowling  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  home  of  Mrs.  M'Neil  was  one  of 
the  most  exposed,  and  the  household  was 
soon  thrown  into  great  consternation  by 
a  negro-boy,  who  came  running  in,  cry 
ing  that  the  Indians  were  close  by,  and 
then  scampered  away  to  the  fort.  Before 
the  people  in  the  house  could  hide  them 
selves,  the  savages  had  entered.  Seizing 
Mrs.  McNeil  and  Miss  M'Crea,  the  Indians 
—  dividing  into  t\vo  parties,  each  with  a 
prize  —  bore  them  off  toward  Burgoyne's 
camp.  Those  who  had  charge  of  Miss 
M'Crea  had  not  gone  far,  when  they  halt 
ed  at  a  spring.  Here  the  Indians  quar 
relled  among  themselves  for  the  posses 
sion  of  their  captive.  All  their  savage 
ferocity  was  aroused  ;  and  one,  in  his  wild 
rage,  settled  the  dispute  by  killing  the 
poor  girl.  They  then  tomahawked  her, 
and  bore  her  scalp  as  a  trophy  to  the 
British  camp.:i: 

*  Wilkinson. 


This  is  the  commonly-received  account 
of  the  tragic  event.  There  are,  however, 
other  versions  of  the  sad  story.  Every 
annalist  has  his  own.  One  tells  us  that 
the  fatal  shot  came  from  the  Americans 
at  Fort  Edward,  who,  observing  the  In 
dians  escaping  with  their  prize,  fired  at 
them,  and  unfortunately  killed  the  fair 
captive,  whereupon  the  savages  immedi 
ately  scalped  her.  Another  reports  that 
the  Indians  had  been  hired  by  Lieutenant 
Jones  to  bring  his  betrothed  to  the  British 
camp,  and  that  in  their  quarrel  for  the  re 
ward  (a  keg  of  rum)  they  tomahawked 
her.  This  is  the  more  popular  version ; 
but,  as  it  was  solemnly  denied  by  Jones 
himself,  who  asserted  his  entire  ignorance 
of  the  affair  until  he  beheld  the  reeking 
scalp  of  the  victim,  it  should  no  longer 
be  accepted. 

Burgoyne  was  no  less  horrified  than 
every  other  civilized  being  at  this  act  of 
savage  ferocity.  He  determined,  more 
over,  to  punish  the  murderer.  A  council 
of  his  Indians  was  called,  and  a  demand 
made  upon  them  for  the  surrender  of  the 
criminal.  This,  however,  greatly  angered 
the  savages,  for  he  who  had  done  the  cruel 
deed  was  a  chief.  Burgoyne  would,  not 
withstanding,  have  still  persisted,  had  not 
those  who  were  supposed  to  be  more  fa 
miliar  with  the  Indian  character,  together 
with  some  of  his  officers  (fearful  lest  the 
savages  might  become  so  indignant  as  to 
abandon  the  British  alliance),  persuaded 
him  no  longer  to  urge  his  demand. 

The  story  of  the  murder,  however,  was 
everywhere  told  with  an  exaggerated  ac 
count  of  the  complicity  of  the  British,  and 
served  to  inflame  the  feelings  of  the  whole 


512 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


country  against  them.  "  The  story,"  says 
Lossin«;,  "  went  abroad  with  all  its  horrid 

O' 

embellishments;  and  the  blood  of  Jane 
M'Crea  pleaded  eloquently  for  revenge. 
Burke,  in  the  exercise  of  his  glowing  elo 
quence,  used  the  story  with  powerful  ef 
fect  in  the  British  house  of  commons,  and 
made  the  dreadful  tale  familiar  to  the  ear 
throughout  Europe."  Burgoyne's  civil 
ized  notions  of  justice,  moreover,  so  far 
disagreed  with  the  sentiments  of  his  sav 
age  allies,  that  they  became  discontented, 
and  deserted  him  so  rapidly,  that  he  was 
soon  left  with  but  few  Indians  in  camp. 

General  Burgoyne  now  reached  Fort 
Edward,  while  the  Americans  continued 
to  re  tire  farther  down  the  Hudson,  moving 
first  to  Saratoga,  and  thence  to  Stillwater. 
The  British  commander  in  the  meantime 
halted,  to  await  the  arrival  of 
General  Phillips,  with  the  artil 
lery  and  baggage,  and  to  receive  intelli 
gence  from  the  detachment  of  the  army 
sent  under  Colonel  St.  Leger  to  make  a 
diversion  by  the  way  of  Oswego,  and  with 
whom  it  was  intended  to  form  a  junction 
at  Albany. 

Word  soon  came  that  St.  Leger  was 
investing  Fort  Stanvvix  (or  Schuyler,  as 
it  had  been  lately  called)  situated  at  the 
head  of  navigation  on  the  Mohawk  river. 
Colonel  Peter  Gansevoort,  of  Albany,  who 
had  served  under  Montgomery  at  Quebec, 
commanded  the  post,  with  a  garrison  of 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  regular  troops 
from  Massachusetts  and  New  York.  The 
fort  had  been  built  during  the  French 
War,  and  was  of  considerable  strength, 
but  had  been  allowed  to  decay.  The 
Americans,  however,  had  lately  repaired 


Aug.  3. 


Aiiff,  4. 


it,  though  not  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  its  defences  complete. 

Colonel  St.  Leger  now  threatened  the 
post  with  a  large  and  very  miscellaneous 
force,  composed  of  nearly  seventeen  hun 
dred  men  in  all,  among  whom  there  were 
a  few  British,  Hessians,  Canadians,  and 
American  loyalists,  while  the  majority 
were  Indian  warriors,  under  Brant,  the 
Mohawk  chief,  and  Sir  John  Johnson. 

On  the  3d  of  August,  St.  Leger  sent  in 
a  flag,  with  a  summons  to  surrender,  and 
a  copy  of  a  pompous  proclamation  which 
he  had  spread  over  the  country.  The 
garrison  took  no  notice  of  either,  but  re 
solved  upon  defending  their  post.  On 
the  next  day,  the  English  com 
mander  commenced  the  siege  by 
throwing  a  few  bombs,  and  sending  out 
parties  of  Indians  to  approach  close  to 
the  fort,  and,  under  cover  of  the  trees,  to 
pick  off  those  at  work  on  the  parapets ; 
while  at  night  the  savages  were  ordered 
to  keep  up  a  wild  howl,  with  the  view  of 
frightening  the  garrison. 

Although  the  country  had  been  panic- 
stricken  by  the  advance  of  the  enemy, 
the  aged  Herkimer,  general  of  the  militia 
of  Tryon  county,  had  succeeded  by  great 
efforts  in  gathering  eight  hundred  men, 
with  whom  he  had  marched  to  Oriskany, 
within  eight  miles  of  the  fort.  He  now 
sent  to  inform  Colonel  Gansevoort  of  his 
approach,  and  to  request  him  to  signify 
the  arrival  of  his  messenger  by  firiii"- 

o  «/  3 

three  guns.  On  hearing  these  signals, 
General  Herkimer  proposed  to  force  his 
way  through  St.  Leger's  troops,  to  the  be 
sieged  garrison.  As  the  enemy  were  on 
the  alert,  and  had  surrounded  the  fort, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COLONEL  ST.  LEGKR  BESIEGES  FORT  SCHUYLER. 


with  the  view  of  cutting  off  its  commu 
nication  with  the  neighboring  country, 
the  messenger  had  great  difficulty  in 
reaching  Gansevoort.  He  finally  succeed 
ed  by  wading  through  a  swamp  supposed 
by  the  enemy  to  be  impassable,  but  only 
after  a  long  delay ;  for,  although  he  had 
started  in  the  night,  with  the  hope  of  de 
livering  his  message  before  morning,  he 
did  not  arrive  until  ten  o'clock  the  next 
day. 

Old  Herkimer,  in  the  meanwhile,  re 
mained  at  Oriskany  with  his  militia,  anx 
iously  awaiting  the  discharge  of  the  three 
guns,  which  were  to  be  the  signal  for  his 
advance.  His  men  chafed  at  the  delay, 
and  their  officers,  sharing  in  their  impa 
tience,  urged  Herkimer  to  press  on.  The 
veteran,  with  true  Dutch  phlegm,  smoked 
his  pipe-,  and  did  not  heed  their  importu 
nities.  At  last,  two  of  his  officers  (Colo 
nels  Cox  and  Paris),  irritated  by  the  ob 
stinate  prudence  of  their  cautious  com 
mander,  lost  all  self-control,  and  in  their 
anger  charged  Herkimer  with  cowardice 
and  treason.  The  fact  that  he  had  a  broth 
er  and  other  relatives  in  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy  appeared  to  give  some  show  of 
probability  to  the  accusation.  The  old 
man,  however,  was  true  as  steel,  and,  con 
scious  of  his  integrity,  calmly  replied,  "  I 
am  placed  over  you  as  a  father  and  a 
guardian,  and  shall  not  lead  you  into  dif 
ficulties  from  which  I  may  not  be  able  to 
extricate  you."  His  officers,notwithstand- 
ing,  persisted  in  their  ungenerous  taunts, 
when  Herkimer  yielded,  and  gave  the  or 
der  to  advance;  but  he  took  care  to  tell 
those  who  were  so  anxious  to  press  for 
ward,  and  were  so  boastful  of  their  cour- 
G5 


age,  that  they  would  probably  be  the  first 
to  run  at  the  sight  of  the  enemy. 

Colonel  St.  Leger  had  received  intelli 
gence  of  General  Herkimer's  approach, 
and  sent  out  Major  Watts,  with  a  party 
of  Johnson's  Greens,  Colonel  Butler  with 
his  Rangers,  and  a  considerable  body  of 
Indians  under  Brant,  to  oppose  it.  Colo 
nel  Gansevoort  had  observed  from  the 
first  this  movement  of  the  enemy,  but 
was  unconscious  of  its  object,  until  Her 
kimer's  messenger  arrived,  when  it  be 
came  obvious  that  St.  Leger's  object  was 
to  cut  off  the  old  veteran's  party.  Gnnse- 
voort  immediately  fired  the  three  signal- 
guns,  and  ordered  out  a  detachment  of 
two  hundred  men  drawn  from  his  own 
and  Wessen's  regiments,  with  a  single  iron 
three-pounder,  to  make  an  attack  upon  the 
position  occupied  by  Sir  John  Johnson's 
division,  which  had  been  weakened  by 
the  detachment  sent  off  against  Herki 
mer. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Willett,  a  veteran 
Long-islander,  who  had  served  in  the 
French  Wars,  and  like  Gansevoort  fought 
under  Montgomery  at  Quebec,  had  charge 
of  this  enterprise.  Willett  drew  up  his 
men  and  prepared  to  make  a  sortie  from 
the  fort,  when  the  rain  fell  in  torrents, 
and  prevented  his  departure.  It  proved, 
however,  but  a  summer  shower,  and  after 
a  short  delay  he  was  able  to  sally  out. 
Willett's  charge  upon  Sir  John  Johnson's 
"Royal  Greens"  and  Indian  allies  was  so 
impetuous,  that  the  advanced  guard  was 
pushed  in  upon  the  encampment,  and  the 
whole  force  driven  in  confusion  from  its 
ground.  Sir  John  was  so  taken  by  sur 
prise,  that  he  had  no  time  to  put  on  his 


514 


BATTLES  OF  AMP: RICA. 


[PART  n. 


regimental  coat,  and,  thus  unaccoutred, 
strove  to  rail}7  his  troops.  His  efforts, 
however,  were  unavailing,  and  he  and  his 
Royal  Greens  were  forced  to  cross  the 
river  and  seek  refuge  in  St.  Leger's  camp 
on  the  opposite  bank,  while  the  Indians 
fled  in  all  directions  through  the  surround 
ing  forests.  A  large  quantity  of  stores, 
live  British  flags,  and  the  papers  and  bag 
gage  of  Sir  John  Johnson,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Willett,  who  had  not  lost  a  sin 
gle  man  in  the  enterprise.  On  his  return 
to  the  fort,  the  English  flags  were  hoisted 
beneath  the  American  standard  ;  and  his 
men,  mounting  the  ramparts,  gave  three 
loud  hurrahs. 

Herkimer  moved  on.  in  no  complacent 
humor;  and  his  undisciplined  militia, shar 
ing  in  the  contentions  of  their  officers, 
followed  him  with  little  order  or  caution. 
The  enemy,  in  the  meanwhile,  had  pre 
pared  an  ambuscade.  Across  the  road 
by  which  Herkimer  was  advancing  there 
was  a  ravine,  through  which  he  would  be 
obliged  to  march.  The  enemy,  on  reach 
ing  this,  posted  their  few  regulars  in  the 
front,  toward  the  fort,  and  concealed  the 
Indians  in  the  thick  wood  on  each  side  of 
the  road.  The  latter  were  ordered  to  let 
the  Americans  pass  through  the  ravine, 
and  only  attack  them  when  they  had 
pushed  on  in  the  struggle  with  the  small 
party  of  British  in  front.  In  this  manner 
it  was  intended  to  surround  Herkimer's 
force,  and  completely  hem  it  in  —  front, 
flank,  and  rear. 

The  Americans  came  on  carelessly  and 
without  suspicion.  Their  main  body  had 
got  fairly  into  the  ravine,  followed  by  the 
baggage-wagons,  while  the  rear-guard  was 


still  some  distance  behind  on  the  road, 
when  suddenly  the  Indians,  too  impatient 
to  wait  for  orders,  shouted  their  terrible 
war-whoop,  and  rushed  impetuously  from 
their  cover  down  upon  Herkimer  and  his 
men.  The  rear-guard  immediately  turned 
and  fled,  leaving  those  in  advance  to  bear 
the  whole  brunt  of  the  attack.  General 
Herkimer  was  brought  down  at  the  first 
fire,  by  a  musket-ball  which  killed  his 
horse,  and  shattered  his  own  leg  near  the 
knee.  The  brave  old  man,  however,  re 
fused  to  be  carried  from  the  field,  and  or 
dered  his  men  to  bear  him  to  the  foot  of 
a  beech-tree  near  by,  where,  sitting  on 
his  saddle,  and  calmly  lighting  his  pipe, 
he  remained,  giving  orders. 

The  fight  continued  for  more  than  an 
hour  with  great  spirit,  when  the  enemy 
strove  to  settle  the  engagement  with  a 
charge  of  the  bayonet.  The  Americans, 
however,  formed  in  circles,  by  which  they 
were  enabled  to  present  a  front  to  their 
assailants  from  all  sides,  and  keep  them 
off  by  their  effective  musketry.  The  day 
had  been  cloudy  and  unsettled,  and  now 
came  a  heavy  rain,  with  thunder — the 
same  shower  which,  as  we  have  seen,  de 
layed  Willett's  sortie  from  the  fort.  The 
storm  for  awhile  put  an  end  to  the  strug 
gle,  and  both  parties  sought  a  cover  in 
the  woods. 

During  this  temporary  lull,  the  Ameri 
cans  shifted  their  ground,  and  determined 
to  change  their  manoeuvres.  The  savages 
had  been  observed  to  await  the  discharge 
of  the  muskets,  and  then  rush  upon  each 
man  of  the  scattered  troops  while  he  was 
separated  from  his  fellows,  and  tomahawk 
him.  To  guard  against  this,  it  was  re- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         SEVERE  FIGHT.— DEATH  OF  GENERAL  IIERKIMER. 


515 


solved  by  the  Americans  to  post  them 
selves,  two  together,  behind  the  trees,  so 
that  when  one  had  fired  his  musket  and 
prepared  to  reload,  the  other  might  come 
forward  ready  to  take  his  place  and  cover 
his  comrade.  With  this  improvement  in 
their  tactics,  the  Americans  found  the  In 
dians  much  less  formidable,  and  soon  got 
so  far  the  advantage  of  them,  that  they 
began  to  lose  spirit  and  disperse. 

Major  Watts  now  brought  up  a  detach 
ment  of  the  "Johnson  Gre-ens,"  which  had 
hitherto  been  kept  in  reserve.  These 
were  men  belonging  to  the  Mohawk  val 
ley  ;  and,  being  thus  brought  into  conflict 
with  the  American  patriots,  among  whom 
there  were  not  only  those  who  were  neigh 
bors,  but  some  even  who  were  their  kins 
men,,  the  horrors  of  a  fierce  family  feud 
were  added  to  the  usual  terrors  of  war 
fare.  The  old  quarrels  and  animosities 
which  had  before  occurred  between  those 
taking  separate  sides  in  the  early  contro 
versies  and  troubles  of  the  colonies,  grow 
ing  out  of  the  dispute  with  the  mother- 
country,  were  now  aroused  to  increased 
fury.  There  was  no  check  to  passion,  and 
no  scruple  to  forbid  the  shedding  of  blood. 
Actual  war  authorized  all,  and  neighbor 
joined  in  deadly  struggle  with  neighbor 
without  a  qualm  of  conscience.  The  en 
gagement  was  fierce,  and  the  result  ter 
ribly  fatal. 

The  battle  was  so  pertinaciously  con 
tested  on  both  sides,  that  neither  seemed 
disposed  to  give  way.  The  Indian  allies 
of  the  British,  however,  were  the  first  to 
lose  heart;  and, shouting  their  retreating- 
cry,  "  Oonah !  oonah  /"  these  ruthless  war 
riors  at  length  fled  precipitately  to  the 


adjoining  forests.  The  white  men  heard 
these  ominous  shouts  of  their  savage  con 
federates,  nnd  saw  their  hasty  retreat  to 
the  woods,  but  nevertheless  continued  to 
fight,  and  did  not  cease  their  deadly  strug 
gle,  until  the  distant  firing  from  the  at 
tack  of  Colonel  Willett  (in  his  sortie  from 
the  fort)  began  to  be  heard  ;  whereupon, 
the  British  commander,  anxious  for  the 
safety  of  St.  Leger's  camp,  withdrew  his 
troops  from  the  field,  leaving  the  patriots 
in  possession,  and  marched  back  to  rein 
force  the  arch-leader  of  the  "  tories,"  Sir 
John  Johnson. 

The  victory,  in  the  engagement  thus 
abruptly  brought  to  a  close,  remained  un 
decided.  The  loss  in  killed  and  wound 
ed  on  both  sides  was  about  equally  great, 
amounting  to  over  three  hundred  each. 
Of  the  American  officers,  Colonel  Cox  and 
Captain  V^an  Sluyk  were  killed  at  the  first 
fire.  The  brave  old  commander,  Herki- 
mer,  and  the  rest  of  the  wounded,  were 
borne  off  the  field  on  litters  made  from 
the  branches  of  trees.  The  general  died 
ten  days  after  the  battle,  at  his  own  resi 
dence,  on  the  Mohawk  river.  His  shat 
tered  leg  was  amputated,  but  (from  the 
complex  nature  of  the  wound)  so  unsuc 
cessfully,  that  he  never  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  the  operation.  He  bore  his 
sufferings  cheerfully,  and  calrny  awaited 
his  death,  smoking  his  pipe  and  reading 
his  Bible,  to  quote  the  graphic  words  of 
an  annalist,  "  like  a  Christian  hero."  His 
patriotic  example  was  greatly  venerated 
by  his  countrymen,  and  his  illustrious 
name  was  subsequently  conferred  by  the 
legislature  of  New  York  upon  one  of  the 
newly-formed  counties  of  the  state. 


516 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


The  enemy  had  retired  from  the  field 
of  action  in  such  haste,  that  one  of  their 
officers  (Major  Watts,  who  was  severely 
wounded)  was  left  for  dead.  He  there 
remained  for  two  days,  when  he  was  dis 
covered  by  an  Indian  scout,  near  a  spring 
of  water,  where  he  had  crawled  to  quench 
his  burning  thirst,  and  was  borne  into  St. 
Leger's  camp. 

When  General  Schuyler  received  in 
telligence,  at  Stillwater,  of  this  tragic  con 
test,  he  despatched  a  force  of  eight  hun 
dred  continental  troops,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Brigadier-General  Learned,  to 
reinforce  the  patriots. 


Aug.  13, 


A  few  days  subsequently,  General  Ar 
nold  volunteered  his  services,  which  were 
accepted  by  Schuyler,  who  or 
dered  him  to  proceed  immedi 
ately  to  the  "  German  Flats,"  where  he 
was  to  assume  the  chief  command,  and, 
calling  out  the  militia  of  the  neighboring 
country,  relieve  Fort  Schuyler,  if  practi 
cable  ;  otherwise,  to  adopt  such  precau 
tionary  measures  as  would  most  effectu 
ally  cover  the  settlements  of  the  Mohawk 
valley  from  the  ravages  of  General  Bur- 
goyne's  advancing  British  and  Germans, 
and  their  more  terrible  Indian  allies,  who 
filled  the  countrv  with  consternation 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


CHAPTER   LIII. 

General  Burgoyne  in  Straits. — His  Wants. — He  seeks  Relief  by  an  Expedition  to  Bennington. — Opposition  of  Officers. — 
Major  Skene,  of  Skcnesborough,  carries  the  Day. — The  Force. — The  Hessians  and  Colonel  Baume. — Small  Means 
and  Great  Ends. — The  Slow  Germans. — The  Plodding  Baume. — A  Capture. — Encouragement  and  Discouragement. 
— The  Americans  on  the  Alert. — General  Stark  and  his  Quarrels. — His  Influence. — Colonel  Seth  Warner  and  the 
Green-Mountain  Boys. — Stark  comes  up  with  the  Enemy. — A  Successful  Skirmish. — A  Soaking  Rain. — Breyman  and 
his  Lumbering  Germans. — Intrenchments  of  the  Enemy. — A  Fighting  Parson. — Molly  Stark's  Prospects  of  Widow 
hood. — The  Fight. — Victory. — Losses. — "  One  Little  Hair"  too  late. — Stark's  Glory  and  Rewards. 


1777, 


GENERAL  BURGOYNE  had  so  far  ex 
hausted  his  resources  in  his  difficult 
march  to  Fort  Edward,  and  Schuyler's 
efforts  to  deprive  him  of  the  natural  sup 
plies  of  the  country  had  been  so  success 
ful,  that  he  found  himself  unable  to  pros 
ecute  his  onward  route  to  Albany,  where, 
forming  a  junction  with  Colonel  St.Leger, 
he  proposed  to  concentrate  his  forces.  His 
chief  want  was  horses  with  which  to  draw 
his  baggage-wagons  and  artillery,  and  to 
mount  his  cavalry  regiments.  Having 
learned  that  Bennington,  in  the  "  New- 
Hampshire  grants"  (now  Vermont),  was 
used  by  the  Americans  as  a  deposite  for 
stores,  and  that  it  contained  not  only  live 
stock  in  abundance,  but  large  quantities 
of  corn  and  flour,  he  determined  to  send 
an  expedition  against  the  place.  General 
Phillips,  of  the  artillery,  arid  Baron  Rei- 
desel,  who  commanded  the  Hessians,  op 
posed  the  enterprise.  They  contended 


that,  to  send  a  detachment  into  the  heart 
of  the  enemy's  country,  would  be  to  in 
cur  too  great  a  danger.  Burgoyne  him 
self  thought  that  a  large  force  might  be 
required ;  but  Major  Skene,  of  Skenes- 
borough,  who  pretended  thoroughly  to 
know  the  country  and  the  sentiments  of 
the  people,  declared  that  the  friends  of 
the  British  cause  were  as  five  to  one,  and 
that  they  only  required  the  appearance 
of  a  protecting  power  to  show  themselves. 
General  Burgoyne  accordingly,  trusting 
to  Skene's  apparently  superior  knowledge, 
followed  his  advice,  and  despatched  but  a 
small  force  to  Bennington,  consisting  of 
about  five  or  six  hundred  men  in  all,  with 
two  light  fieldpieces.  Of  this  small  de 
tachment,  one  hundred  were  Indians,  a 
few  British  and  Canadians,  but  the  great 
er  part  Hessians,  among  whom  were  two 
hundred  dismounted  dragoons  beloninntr 


to  Reidesel's  regiment. 


Lieutenant-Colo- 

517 


518 

nel  Baume,  a  German,  was  appointed  to 
the  command  ;  and  Major  Skene  was  sent 
to  accompany  him,  and  aid  in  the  execu 
tion  of  an  enterprise  of  which  he  was  the 
chief  instigator. 

The  force  was  meager,  but  it  was  ex 
pected  to  accomplish  great  purposes,  as 
may  be  inferred  from  Burgoyne's  instruc 
tions  to  Lieutenant-Colonel  Baume,  who 
was  ordered  to  proceed  through  the  New- 
Hampshire  grants;  cross  the  mountains; 
scour  the  country  from  Rockingham  to 
Otter  creek  ;  to  get  horses,  carriages,  and 
cattle,  and  mount  Reidesel's  regiment  of 
dragoons ;  to  go  down  Connecticut  river 
as  far  as  Brattleborough,  and  return  by 
the  great  road  to  Albany,  there  to  meet 
General  Burgoyne  ;  to  endeavor  to  make 
the  country  believe  it  was  the  advanced 
body  of  the  general's  army,  who  was  to 
cross  Connecticut  river  and  proceed  to 
Boston,  and  that  at  Springfield  they  were 
to  be  joined  by  the  troops  from  Rhode 
Island.  All  officers,  civil  and  military, 
acting  under  the  Congress,  were  to  be 
made  prisoners.  He  (Baume)  was  to  tax 
the  towns  where  they  halted,  with  such 
articles  as  they  wanted,  and  take  host 
ages  for  the  performance.  "  You  are  to 
bring  all  horses,"  adds  Burgoyne,  "fit  to 
mount  the  dragoons  or  to  serve  as  battal 
ion  horses  for  the  troops,  with  as  many 
saddles  and  bridles  as  can  be  found.  The 
number  of  horses  requisite,  besides  those 
for  the  dragoons,  ought  to  be  thirteen 
hundred  ;  if  you  can  bring  more,  so  much 
the  better.  The  horses  must  be  tied  in 
strings  of  ten  each,  in  order  that  one  man 
may  lead  ten  horses." 

With  these  great  designs  in  view,  Lieu- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[TAUT  n. 


Aug.  13. 


tenant- Colonel  Baume,  with  his  small 
force,  set  out  on  his  expedition. 
General  Burgoyne,  at  the  same 
time,  moved  his  army  along  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  Hudson,  and  encamped  near 
ly  opposite  to  Saratoga,,  where,  having 
thrown  a  bridge  of  boats  across  the  river, 
he  sent  over  his  advanced  guard,  under 
General  Fraser. 

Baume  had  not  a  long  march  before 
him,  Bennington  being  only  about  twen 
ty-four  miles  to  the  eastward  of  the  Hud 
son,  but  he  and  his  heavy  Germans  were 
slow  in  their  movements.  "The  worst 
British  regiment  in  the  service,"  says  Sted- 
man,  the  English  military  annalist, "  would 
with  ease  have  inarched  two  miles  for 
their  one."  Rapidity  of  motion  was  not 
one  of  the  virtues  of  the  German  troops. 
They  were  not  only  naturally  less  active 
than  the  British,  but  were  weighed  down 
by  the  monstrous  accoutrements  intro 
duced  by  Frederick  the  Great  into  the 
Prussian  armies.  Their  hats  and  swords 
alone  weighed  nearly  as  much  as  the  en 
tire  equipment  of  a  British  soldier  !  The 
Germans  were  the  last  men  who  should 
have  been  selected  for  attempting  a  sur 
prise,  which  requires  above  all  things  ce 
lerity  of  movement. 

Baume  went  on.  plodding  his  way  slow 
ly  but  faithfully.  On  the  first  night  he 
reached  Cambridge,  where  his  advanced 
guard  of  Indians  and  Canadians  succeed 
ed  in  dispersing  a  small  party  of  Ameri 
cans  guarding  some  cattle.  The  follow 
ing  day  he  got  possession  of  the  mill  of 
"  Sa.ncook,"  with  a  large  supply  of  "very 
fine  Hour,"  a  thousand  bushels  of  wheat, 
twenty  barrels  of  salt,  and  about  "  one 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        THE  MARCH  TO  BENNINGTON.— GENERAL  STARK. 


519 


thousand  pounds  of  pearlash  and  potash," 
which  the  Americans,  flying  before  him, 
had  left  as  a  prize  behind  them.  From 
this  place,  on  the  morning  of  the  14th  of 
August,  he  writes  a  despatch  to  General 
Burgoyne,  which,  upon  the  whole,  is  quite 
encouraging.  "  By  five  prisoners  taken 
here,"  he  says,  "  they  agree  that  from  fif 
teen  to  eighteen  hundred  are  at  Benning- 
ton,  but  are  supposed  to  leave  it  on  our 
approach People  are  flocking  in  hour 
ly,  but  want  to  be  armed."  There  were, 
however,  already  some  drawbacks  to  his 
successful  progress.  The  Americans  were 
breaking  down  the  bridges,  and  delaying 
his  march  ;  and  the  Indians  were  giving 
him  no  little  trouble.  "  The  savages,"  he 
declares,  "  can  not  be  controlled ;  they 
ruin  and  take  everything  they  please." 
With  their  superior  skill  in  horse-steal 
ing,  the  Indian  allies  were  the  first  to  get 
possession  of  these  animals ;  and,  unless 
they  received  hard  cash  for  them,  they 
would  either  destroy  or  drive  them  off. 
Baume,  notwithstanding,  is  still  hopeful, 
and  adds,  in  his  deliberate  way,  "  1  will 
proceed  so  far  to-day  as  to  fall  on  the  en 
emy  to-morrow." 

The  Americans,  however,  were  vigilant, 
and  were  preparing  to  receive  the  lieu 
tenant-colonel  and  his  Germans.  Ever 
since  the  success  of  General  Burgoyne  at 
Ticonderoga,  the  eastern  states  had  been 
making  strenuous  efforts  to  protect  their 
frontiers  from  invasion.  New  Hampshire, 
being  the  first  exposed,  was  foremost  in 
preparing  to  defend  herself.  The  militia 
of  the  state  was  called  out.  and  a  detach 
ment  under  General  Stark  ordered  im 
mediately  to  the  frontier. 


Stark  had  only  accepted  the  command 
of  the  New-Hampshire  militia  on  the  con 
dition  of  being  left  at  liberty  to  serve  or 
not  under  a  continental  commander  as 
he  pleased.  The  general  was  vexed  by 
the  treatment  which  he  had  received  at 
the  hands  of  Congress,  that  body  having, 
by  the  appointment  of  younger  and  less- 
experienced  men  above  him,  slighted,  as 
he  thought,  his  superior  claims.  He  had 
therefore  left  the  general  service  in  dis 
gust,  but  was  too  devoted  a  patriot  to 
abandon  his  country  in  the  crisis  of  its 
trials ;  and,  when  his  native  state  was 
threatened,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  come 
forward  in  her  defence. 

JOHN  STARK  had,  while  a  youth,  fought 
in  the  French  wars.  At  the  first  sound 
of  the  cannon  at  Lexington,  he  had  left 
his  sawmill,  and, calling  together  the  back 
woodsmen  of  New  Hampshire,  had  hast 
ened  to  Boston,  wThere  he  was  foremost 
in  the  struggle  at  Bunker's  hill.  He  had 
served  in  Canada  under  Montgomery  and 
Arnold;  and  he  had  shared  in  the  victo 
ry  at  Trenton  under  Washington.  Al 
though  these  services  may  have  been  for 
gotten  by  Congress  in  the  strife  of  parti 
sanship,  they  were  held  in  fresh  remem 
brance  by  his  own  state. 

Stark's  influence  in  New  Hampshire 
was  so  great,  that  his  appointment  was 
no  sooner  made,  than  fourteen  hundred 
men  rallied  to  his  standard.  These  were 
not  raw  militia,  but  brave  and  true  sol 
diers,  well  officered,  who  had  already,  like 
their  veteran  commander,  seen  service. 

Stark's  resolve  to  act  independently  of 
the  orders  of  any  continental  command 
er  was  soon  put  to  the  test.  General 


520 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


Lincoln,  who  had  been  sent  by  Washing 
ton  to  the  North,  to  aid  Schuyler,  had 
now  reached  Manchester,  some  twenty 
miles  north  of  Bennington.  Here  Stark 
met  him,  and  was  ordered  to  join  Schuy 
ler  at  Stillwater.  With  this  order,  how 
ever,  he  refused  compliance,  confronting 
Lincoln  with  the  "condition  of  service" 
which  the  state  of  New  Hampshire  had 
accepted.  The  matter  was  finally  referred 
to  Congress  for  adjustment,  when  that 
body  resolved  "  that  the  council  of  New 
Hampshire  be  informed  that  the  instruc 
tions  which  General  Stark  says  he  has  re 
ceived  from  them  are  destructive  of  mili 
tary  subordination,  and  highly  prejudicial 
to  the  common  cause  at  this  crisis ;  and 
that  therefore  they  be  desired  to  instruct 
General  Stark  to  conform  himself  to  the 
same  rules  which  other  general  officers 
of  the  militia  are  subject  to,  whenever 
they  are  called  out  at  the  expense  of  the 
United  States." 

Stark,  however,  was  a  plain  man,  and 
had  no  fastidious  regard  for  the  nice  dis 
tinctions  of  legislative  privileges.  Pie 
would  do  everything,  he  said,  to  promote 
the  public  good,  but  nothing  that  was  in 
consistent  with  his  own  honor,  and  went 
on,  resolutely  bent  upon  the  sole  object 
of  defending  his  state,  now  threatened 
with  danger.  Having  heard  of  the  ad 
vance  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Baume,  the 
veteran  Stark  hurried  back  to  Benning 
ton,  where  he  was  soon  followed  by  Colo 
nel  Seth  Warner  and  his  "  Green-Mount 
ain  Boys,"  who  had  returned  to  New 
Hampshire  after  St.  Glair's  surrender  and 
retreat  from  Ticonderoga. 
,  On  reachingBenuington,Stark  learned 


Aug.  14. 


that  Baume's  Indians  were  at  Cambridge, 
twelve  miles  north  of  him.  He  immedi 
ately  sent  forward  Lieutenant- Colonel 
Gregg,  with  two  hundred  men,  to  oppose 
them ;  and  the  next  morning, 
having  rallied  his  brigade  and 
the  militia,  and  being  reinforced  by  War 
ner,  who  had  come  into  Bennington  with 
his  men  drenched  by  a  soaking  rain,  he 
inarched  himself  with  all  speed  to  meet 
the  enemy.  Warner's  regiment  was  left 
behind  to  "dry"  and  refresh  themselves. 
Stark  had  got  but  seven  miles  on  his  way, 
when  he  met  Gregg  and  his  party  in  full 
retreat,  with  Baume's  force  in  pursuit, 
only  a  mile  in  their  rear. 

Stark  at  once  halted  his  troops,  and 
drew  them  up  in  order  of  battle.  The 
enemy  coming  up  and  seeing  his  strength, 
did  likewise,  taking  their  position  on  a 
hill  very  advantageously  situated.  Stark 
confined  himself  to  sending  out  small  par 
ties  to  skirmish  with  their  advance-guards, 
and  with  such  good  effect,  that  thirty  of 
the  enemy  were  killed  or  wounded,  with 
out  any  loss  on  his  own  side.  As  his 
ground  was  not  suitable  for  a  general  ac 
tion,  the  American  commander  withdrew 
his  troops  a  mile  farther  back,  and  en 
camped.  The  whole  of  the  fol 
lowing  day  was  mostly  lost,  for 
it  rained  heavily  from  morning  till  night, 
A  council  of  war,  however,  was  called,  at 
which  a  plan  of  action  was  agreed  upon. 
Two  detachments  were  to  be  sent  to  at 
tack  the  enemy  in  the  rear,  while  a  third 
should  oppose  them  in  front,  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Baume,  in  the  meanwhile, 
took  advantage  of  this  pause  to  send  to 
Burgoj'iie  for  a  reinforcement ;  and  Colo- 


15, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  BENNINGTON. 


521 


nelBreyman  was  immediately  despatched 
with  five  hundred  men  to  his  aid.  His 
progress,  however,  was  so  slow,  with  his 
lumbering  Germans,  that,  although  he  had 
but  twenty-four  miles  to  march,  he  took 
over  two  days  to  accomplish  it !  "  This 
Breyman,"  says  the  author  of  "KnigMs 
History  of  England?  "like  most  of  his  school, 
was  a  pedant  and  a  formalist,  who  had  no 
notion  of  marching,  even  through  a  rough 
country,  except  with  all  the  order  and 
precision  of  the  drill-ground  :  he  halted 
ten  times  an  hour  to  dress  his  ranks."  Of 
course,  such  a  laggard  was  not  likely  to 
be  up  to  time,  and  we  shall  find  that  his 
arrival  was  too  late  for  him  to  render  any 
aid. 

Baume,  in  the  meantime,  continued  by 
means  of  intrenchments  to  strengthen  the 
position  which  he  had  chosen,  upon  the 
high  ground,  within  a  bend  of  the  little 
Wallormscook  river.  Although  the  rainy 
weather  kept  the  two  opposing  parties, 
for  the  most  part,  within  their  encamp 
ments,  there  was  an  occasional  skirmish 
between  them ;  and  the  Indians  were  so 
frequently  picked  off  by  the  New-Hamp 
shire  riflemen,  that  they  be^an  to  desert 

/  »/  cj 

Baume,  telling  him  that  they  would  not 
stay,  because  the  woods  were  filled  with 
Yankees.* 

General  Stark,  before  leaving  Benning- 
ton,  had  sent  expresses  in  all  directions 
throughout  the  country,  to  summon  the 
militia,  and  they  now  began  to  come  in. 
Before  break  of  day  on  the  morning  of 
the  IGth  of  August,  Colonel  Symonds 
marched  into  camp  with  a  considerable 
body  from  Berkshire  county,  Massachu- 

*  Lossing. 
GG 


Aug.  16. 


setts.  Among  the  volunteers  was  a  war 
like  clergyman  of  the  name  of  Allen.  So 
impatient  was  he  for  the  fight,  that  he  no 
sooner  arrived,  than  he  presented  himself 
to  Stark,  saying, "  General,  the  people  of 
Berkshire  have  been  so  often  summoned 
without  being  allowed  to  fight,  that  they 
have  resolved,  unless  you  now  give  them 
a  chance,  not  to  turn  out  again." — "  You 
wouldn't  surely  wish  to  march  while  it  is 
dark  and  raining  !"  replied  Stark.  "  No, 
not  just  now,"  answered  Allen.  "  Well," 
responded  the  general,  "  if  the  Lord  will 
only  give  us  once  more  some  sunshine, 
and  I  do  not  give  you  fighting  enough, 
I'll  never  ask  you  to  come  out  again." 

As  the  day  advanced,  the  rain  ceased, 
and  the  sun  shone  brightly ;  so 
Stark  prepared  to  begin  his  op 
erations  against  the  enemy.  In  accord 
ance  with  the  plan  agreed  upon  with  his 
officers  on  the  previous  day,  the  general 
sent  Colonel  Nichols,  with  two  hundred 
men,  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  left,  and 
Colonel  Herrick,  with  three  hundred,  in 
the  rear  of  their  right,  with  orders  to  join 
their  forces  and  make  a  simultaneous  at 
tack.  To  the  right,  Colonels  Hubbard 
and  Stickney  were  detached,  with  two 
hundred  men,  while  a  hundred  were  sent 
to  the  front,  in  order  to  draw  the  atten 
tion  of  the  enemy  in  that  direction.  The 
command  of  the  main  body  the  general 
reserved  for  himself,  with  the  view,  as 
soon  as  the  action  began,  to  push  his  men 
forward  and  make  a  charge  in  front. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
when  tl>e  attack  was  begun,  by  the  ad 
vance  of  Colonel  Nichols  upon  the  rear 
of  Baume's  intrenchments.  "Forward1" 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


shouted  Stark,  at  the  sound  of  the  first 
gun,  as  he  led  his  troops  on  against  the 
enemy's  front.  "  See  there,  men  !"  con 
tinued  he  ;  "  there  are  the  red-coats !  Be 
fore  night  they  are  ours,  or  Molly  Stark 
will  be  a  widow  !"  And  his  brave  fellows, 
responding  to  this  homely  speech  of  their 
general  with  a  loud  huzza,  pushed  for 
ward.  In  a  few  minutes  the  action  was 
general.  "It  lasted  two  hours,"  wrote 
Stark,  "  the  hottest  I  ever  saw  in  my  life. 
It  represented  one  continued  clap  of  thun 
der."  The  Indians  were  the  first  to  give 
way.  Finding  that  they  were  about  to 
be  hemmed  in  by  the  Americans  in  the 
rear,  they  fled,  yelling  and  jingling  their 
"  cow-bells,"  but  received  a  fire  by  which 
three  were  killed  and  two  wounded  as 
they  ran  between  the  two  detachments 
of  Nichols  and  Herrick,  that  were  closing 
to  form  a  junction. 

The  Germans,  nevertheless,  spiritedly 
resisted,  clinging  to  their  guns  within  the 
oreastworks  as  long  as  their  ammunition 
lasted ;  and  then  strove  to  defend  them 
selves  with  sword  in  hand,  and  with  the 
brave  Baume  at  their  head.  The  Ameri 
cans,  however,  though  armed  only  with 
their  "  brown  firelocks,"  and  with  hardly 
a  bayonet,  mounted  the  fortifications  and 
assailed  them  with  such  dashing  gallant 
ry,  that  the  enemy  were  obliged  to  give 
way.  "  Our  martial  courage,"  said  Stark, 
"  was  too  hard  for  them."  After  a  severe 
loss  in  killed  and  wounded,  amon<»;  the 

o 

latter  of  whom  was  Baume  himself,  they 
were  driven  from  their  around,  leaving 

O  O 

their  artillery  and  baggage  behind  them. 
Stark's  militiamen, who  had  been  prom 
ised  by  him  all  the  plunder  taken  in  the 


enemy's  camp,  now  left  their  ranks  to  se 
cure  their  booty.  The  retreating  Ger 
mans,  hearing  of  the  advance  of  Colonel 
Breyman  with  a  reinforcement,  began  to 
rally,  and  might  have  renewed  the  en 
gagement  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  un 
disciplined  Americans,  scattered  about  in 
their  search  for  plunder,  had  not  Colonel 
Warner's  regiment,  which  had  been  left 
behind  at  Bennington,  luckily  come  up 
at  this  moment,  and  began  the  attack 
afresh.  Stark,  too,  gathered  as  many  of 
his  dispersed  men  as  he  could,  and,  form 
ing  them,  pushed  forward.  The  battle 
was  renewed,  and  continued  obstinately 
on  both  sides  until  sunset.  The  enemy, 
however,  were  forced  to.  retreat,  with 
Stark  close  at  their  heels,  who  pursued 
them  until  dark.  "  Had  day,"  said  he, 
"lasted  an  hour  longer,  we  should  have 
taken  the  whole  body  of  them." 

The  laggard  Breyman  came  up  with 
his  slow  Germans  only  in  time  to  meet 
Baume's  force  in  full  retreat.  "  Had  he 
been  one  little  hour  sooner,  the  fate  of  the 
day,"  according  to  the  British  authorities, 
"might  have  been  different;  but  now  he 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  put  the  fugi 
tives  of  Baume's  detachment  into  some 
order,  and  retreat  to  the  place  he  had 
come  from." 

Seven  hundred  of  the  enemy  were  ta 
ken  prisoners,  among  whom  was  Baume, 
who  soon  after  died  of  his  wounds.  Two 
hundred  and  seven  of  them  were  left 
dead  on  the  field.  The  Americans  had 
about  one  hundred  killed  and  nearly  the 
same  number  wounded.  Stark  himself 
lost  "  his  horse,  bridle,  and  saddle,"  in  the 
action.  Four  pieces  of  brass  cannon,  sev- 


UKVOLUTIONARY.]         STARR'S  REWARD.— A  COURT  OF  INQUIRY. 


eral  hundred  stands  of  amis,  and  a  mis 
cellaneous  collection  of  brass -barrelled 
drums,  stores,  swords,  and  baggage-wag 
ons,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans. 
These  (or  their  value)  were  claimed  by 
Stark  for  his  troops,  since,  as  he  declares 
in  his  official  account,  that  he  promised 
"  the  soldiers  should  have  all  the  plunder 
taken  in  the  enemy's  camp." 

The  Americans  were  everywhere  great 
ly  inspirited  by  this  triumph  at  Benning- 
ton.  The  gloom,  which  had  previously  so 
darkened  the  hopes  of  the  people  in  the 
North,  now  began  to  disappear  before 


this  dawn  of  victory  in  the  East.  The  mi 
litia  became  more  self-reliant,  and  proved 
themselves  more  worthy  of  the  trust  of 
others.  They  had  succeeded  in  overcom 
ing  European  regulars,  and  had  put  to 
flight  the  much-dreaded  Indian  savages 
arrayed  against  them. 

General  Stark's  share  in  the  victory 
was  handsomely  acknowledged.  Con 
gress,  forgetting  their  .own  wrongs,  now 
thought  only  of  his  rights,  and,  appoint 
ing  him  a  brigadier-general  in  the  conti 
nental  army,  reinstated  him  in  the  posi 
tion  which  he  claimed. 


CHAPTER   LIV. 

Court  of  Inquiry  upon  Generals  Schuyler  and  St.  Clair. — Sohuyler  superseded. — Washington  declines  to  nominate  a  Suc 
cessor. — Unpopularity  of  Schuyler,  and  its  Causes. — General  Gates  appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  Northern  De 
partment. — Courtesy  of  Gates  and  Schuyler. — Schuyler  chagrined. — Gates  agreeably  disappointed. — Gatcs's  Attack 
upon  General  Burgoync  with  his  Pen. — Military  Rhetoric. — Burgoyne's  Answer. — Movements  of  General  Arnold. — 
A  Master  of  Grandiloquence. — A  Yankee  Trick. — Yan  Yost  Cuyler. — The  Success  of  his  Mission. — The  British  for 
saken  by  the  Indians. — An  Indian  Practical  Joke. — Fort  Schuyler  relieved. — Arnold  hastens  to  join  Gates. 


1777. 


CONGRESS  had   determined   that 


Aug.  1. 


a  court  of  inquiry  should  be  held, 
to  investigate  the  conduct  of  Generals 
Schuyler  and  St.  Clair,  in  consequence  of 
the  surrender  of  the  posts  at  Ticondero- 
ga  and  Mount  Independence.  They  were 
accordingly  ordered,  though  the 
time  was  not  yet  specified,  to 
hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  proceed 
to  headquarters.  In  the  meantime,  it  was 
resolved  to  supersede  General  Schuyler 
in  the  command  of  the  northern  depart 
ment.  The  appointment  of  his  successor 
was  referred  by  Congress  to  Washington, 


who,  however,  declined  this  responsibili 
ty,  telling  them  in  reply  :  "  The  northern 
department  in  a  great  measure  has  been 
considered  as  separate,  and  more  pecu 
liarly  under  their  direction;  and  the  offi 
cers  commanding  there  always  of  their 
nomination.  I  have  never  interfered  fur 
ther  than  merely  to  advise,  and  to  give 
such  aids  as  were  in  my  power,  on  the  re 
quisitions  of  those  officers.  The  present 
situation  of  that  department  is  delicate 
and  critical,  and  the  choice  of  an  officer 
to  the  command  may  involve  very  inter 
esting  and  important  consequences." 


524 


T.ATTLKS  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


When  Congress  authorized  Washing 
ton  to  make  the  appointment,  the  New- 
En  ^l  and  delegates  were  so  anxious  that 

O  o 

their  favorite  should  receive  it,  that  they 
Avrote  to  the  commander-in-chief,  urging 
him  to  appoint  General  Gates,  and  ex 
pressing  the  opinion  that  "no  man  will 
be  more  likely  to  restore  harmony,  order, 
and  discipline,  and  retrieve  our  affairs  in 
that  quarter."  This  attempt  to  influence 
his  judgment  probably  induced  Washing 
ton  to  decline  all  interference  in  the  mat 
ter.  On  the  question  being  again  brought 
up  before  Congress,  Gates  received  the 
appointment. 

General  Schuyler,  of  whose  patriotism 
and  active  devotion  to  the  interests  of  his 
country  there  could  be  no  doubt,  was  ex 
ceedingly  unpopular  with  New  England. 
The  cause  has  been  attributed  to  the  old 
quarrel  growing  out  of  the  dispute  in  re 
gard  to  the  boundary-line  between  his 
native  colony  of  New  York  and  that  of 
Massachusetts  Bay.  Schuyler  had  served 
as  a  boundary-commissioner.,  and,  in  his 
zealous  defence  of  the  claims  of  New  York, 
is  supposed  to  have  incurred  the  ill  feel 
ing  of  New  England.  It  is  far  more  prob 
able,  however,  that  the  formal  manners, 
and  the  claims  to  social  distinction  of  the 
more  aristocratic  " ;  New-Yorker,"  did  not 
accord  with  the  rude  simplicity  of  the 
equality-loving  "Yankee."  Gates,  who 
was  of  a  social  turn,  and  easy  in  his  man 
ners,  on  the  other  hand,  succeeded  in  con 
ciliating  the  New-England  people,  and 
possessed  at  this  time  all  their  love  and 
confidence.  His  appointment,  therefore, 
was  gladly  welcomed  ;  and, although  witli 
the  success  at  Bennington,  and  the  diffi- 


Ang.  19, 


culties  then  in  the  way  of  Burgoyne,  by 
the  strenuous  exertions  of  Schuyler,  the 
army  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  North  and 
East  had  got  rid  of  much  of  their  panic, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  appearance  of 
Gates  served  greatly  to  quicken  the  res 
toration  of  their  confidence  and  courage. 

Schuyler  courteously  received  Gates 
when  he  presented  himself  at  the  camp 
at  Van  Schaick's  island  (where 
the  Mohawk  enters  the  Hudson), 
to  assume  the  command  of  the  army.  Ee- 
pressing  his  vexation  at  the  treatment  of 
Congress,  the  superseded  general  told  his 
successor  that  he  intended  to  remain  in 
the  camp  for  the  present,  and  begged  him 
to  avail  himself  freely  of  his  services. 

That  Schuyler  was  deeply  wounded  is 
apparent  from  his  letter  to  Washington. 
"  It  is,"  writes  he,  "  matter  of  extreme  cha 
grin  to  me  to  be  deprived  of  the  command, 
at  a  time  when  soon,  if  ever,  we  shall 
probably  be  enabled  to  meet  the  enemy 
— when  we  are  on  the  point  of  taking 
ground  where  they  must  attack  to  disad 
vantage,  should  our  force  be  inadequate 
to  facing  them  in  the  field  —  when  an  op 
portunity  will  in  all  probability  occur,  in 
which  I  might  evince  that  I  am  not  what 
Congress  have  too  plainly  insinuated,  by 
the  resolution  taking  the  command  from 
me." 

General  Gates,  when  first  setting  out, 
was  not  much  encouraged  by  the  pros 
pect  of  his  northern  command  ;  but  when 
he  reached  the  camp,  he  found  that  the 
tide  of  affairs  had  taken  a  more  favorable 
turn.  "  Upon  my  leaving  Philadelphia," 
he  wrote  to  Washington,  "  the  prospect 
this  way  appeared  most  gloomy  ;  but  the 


Hi;  VOLUTION  ART.] 


GATES'S  CHARGES  AGAINST  BURGOYNE. 


525 


severe  checks  the  enemy  have  met  at 
Bennington  and  Tryon  county  have  giv 
en  a  more  pleasing  view  of  public  affairs. 
I  can  not  sufficiently  thank  your  excel 
lency  for  sending  Colonel  Morgan's  corps. 
They  will  be  of  the  greatest  service  to 
the  army ;  for,  until  the  late  successes 
this  way,  I  am  told  it  was  quite  panic- 
struck  by  the  Indians,  and  their  tory  and 
Canadian  assassins  in  Indian  dress.  Few 
of  the  militia  demanded  are  yet  arrived, 
but  I  hear  of  great  numbers  on  their 
march." 

Gates  inaugurated  his  command  by  on 
attack  with  his  pen  on  Burgoyne.  That 
general  had  sent  in  a  complaint  of  the 
treatment  received  by  the  prisoners  ta 
ken  at  Bennington.  Gates  retorted  by 
denouncing  the  employment  of  the  Indi 
ans,  and  holding  Burgoyne  responsible 
for  their  cruelties.  In  the  course  of  his 
letter  he  described,  in  a  strain  of  turgid 
rhetoric,  the  tra.gic  death  of  Jane  M'Crea, 
and  concluded  by  saying,  "  The  miserable 
fate  of  Miss  M'Crea  was  peculiarly  aggra 
vated  by  her  being  dressed  to  receive  her 
promised  husband,  but  met  her  murderer, 
employed  by  you!"  Nor  was  this  all;  he 
added:  "Upward  of  one  hundred  men, 
women,  and  children,  have  perished  by 
the  hands  of  ruffians,  to  whom  it  is  assert 
ed  you  have  paid  the  price  of  Mood  /" 

After  Gates  had  elaborated  his  epistle, 
he  called  General  Lincoln  and  his  adju 
tant-general  (Wilkinson)  into  his  apart 
ment,  read  it  to  them,  and  asked  their 
opinion.  They  modestly  declined  to  give 
it.  The  general,  however,  pressed  them, 
when  they  both  declared,  as  might  be  ex 
pected  from  the  extracts  which  we  have 


given,  that  the  letter  was  too  personal. 
Gates,  with  the  usual  vanity  of  author 
ship,  replied  testily,  "  By  G-d,  I  don't  be 
lieve  either  of  you  can  mend  it !"  It  was 
therefore  sent  without  amendment. 

Burgoyne  was  naturally  indignant  at 
the  charges  of  Gates,  and  took  pains,  in 
a  long  answer,  to  refute  them.  In  regard 
to  the  tragic  death  of  Miss  M'Crea,  he  de 
clared  that  it  was  no  premeditated  bar 
barity  ;  that  no  one  regretted  it  more 
than  himself;  and  that,  moreover,  the 
murderer  should  have  been  executed,  had 
it  not  been  believed  that  a  pardon  on  the 
terms  to  be  granted  would  be  more  effi 
cacious  to  prevent  further  outrage.  As 
for  the  other  Indian  cruelties,  Burgoyne 
denied  them,  and,  in  regard  to  the  com 
plicity  of  which  he  was  accused,  emphat 
ically  asserted — "I  would  not  be  con 
scious  of  the  acts  you  presume  to  impute 
to  me,  for  the  whole  continent  of  Amer 
ica,  though  the  wealth  of  worlds  was  in 
its  bowels,  and  a  paradise  upon  its  sur 
face." 

It  may  be  presumed  that  Gates  himself 
did  not  believe  that  Burgoyne  was  the 
criminal  which  his  letter  would  seem  to 
indicate.  His  object  was  to  exaggerate 
the  cruelties  of  the  enemy,  in  order  to 
excite  the  horror  and  indignation  of  the 
country.  He  was  merely  availing  him 
self  of  what  he  believed  to  be  a  justifia 
ble  ruse  de  guerre,  and  it  proved  wondrous- 
ly  effective.  Gates's  exaggerated  state 
ments  and  rhetorical  bombast  accorded 
with  the  excited  and  unreflecting  senti 
ment  of  the  times,  and  his  letter  became 
immensely  popular. 

General  Arnold,  who,  as  we  have  seen, 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


had  gone  to  the  relief  of  the  garrison  at 
Fort  Schuyler,  soon  overtook  the  detach 
ment  of  eight  hundred  men,  under  Gen 
eral  Learned,  which  had  preceded  him. 
On  reaching  Fort  Dayton,  at  the  German 
Flats,  where  there  was  a  small  guard  of 
continental  troops,  it  was  found  that  the 
whole  force  which  could  be  mustered 
amounted  to  only  nine  hundred  and  for 
ty-six  regulars  and  one  hundred  militia. 
It  was  therefore  deemed  imprudent,  with 
so  meager  a  force,  to  attempt  an  attack 
upon  Colonel  St.  Leger,  who  was  invest 
ing  Fort  Schuyler  with  a  miscellaneous 
body  of  Indians,  Canadians,  and  regulars, 
numbering  no  less  than  seventeen  hun 
dred.  Arnold  sent  to  Gates  for  reinforce 
ments,  and  in  the  meantime  tried  the  effi 
cacy  of  a  proclamation.  He  was  a  great 
master  of  grandiloquence,  and  on  the 
present  occasion  outdid  his  usual  efforts. 
Presenting  himself  as  the  "  Honorable 
Benedict  Arnold,  Esquire,  general  and 
commander-in-chief  of  the  army  of  the 
United  States  of  America  on  the  Mohawk 
river,"  he  proclaimed  a  free  pardon  to  all 
who  joined  or  upheld  him,  "  whether  sav 
ages,  Germans,  Americans,  or  Britons," 
provided  they  should  lay  down  their  arms 
and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
United  States  within  three  days.  Those 
who  would  not  were  threatened  with  the 
"just  vengeance  of  Heaven  and  their  ex 
asperated  country,"  from  either  of  which 
no  mercy  was  to  be  expected  !  Colonel 
St.  Leger  was  denounced  as  a  "leader  of 
a  banditti  of  robbers,  murderers,  and  trai 
lers,  composed  of  savages  of  America  and 
more  savage  Britons,"  who  were  threat 
ening  ruin  and  destruction  to  the  people. 


This  swelling  manifesto  had  its  effect,  but 
proved  less  efficacious  than  another  de 
vice  which  sprang  from  the  teeming  womb 
of  Yankee  ingenuity. 

LieutenantrColonel  Brooks,  of  the  Ma.s- 
sachusettsline,suggested  the  employment 
of  a  man  of  the  name  of  Hanyost  Schuy 
ler,  or  Yan  Yost  Cuyler,  as  an  emissary 
to  be  sent  into  the  camp  of  the  enemy, 
with  an  exaggerated  report  of  Arnold's 
numbers,  in  order  to  alarm  the  Indians. 
This  fellow,  who  was  known  to  be  a  tory, 
had  been  arrested  while  prowling  about 
the  American  encampment,  and  was  con 
demned  to  be  executed  as  a  spy.  He 
was  now  brought  before  General  Arnold, 
who  promised  him  a  pardon  if  he  would 
perform  the  service  required  of  him.  He 
readily  consented,  and  was  sent  away  to 
St.  Leger's  camp;  while,  to  secure  his 
fidelity,  his  brother  was  kept  as  a  host 
age. 

Cuyler  is  spoken  of  as  a  half-witted 
fellow,  but  he  was  evidently  much  more 
of  a  rogue  than  a  fool,  as  was  proved  by 
the  cunning  with  which  his  mission  was 
accomplished.  He  was,  however,  greatly 
aided  by  some  Indian  confederates,  one 
of  whom  suggested  that  he  should  shoot 
bullets  through  his  coat,  in  order  that  his 
story  might  appear  more  probable  to  the 
enemy.  One  or  two  Indian  accomplices 
also  agreed  to  follow  Cuyler,  and  sub 
stantiate  his  reports  of  the  strength  of 
the  Americans. 

Cuyler  accordingly  presented  himself 
among  the  Indians  before  Fort  Schuyler, 
telling  them  how  he  had  barely  escaped 
(of  which  his  riddled  coat  was  indubitable 
proof)  from  the  bullets  of  the  enemy,  who 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  COLONEL  ST.  LEGER  AND  HIS  INDIANS. 


527 


pursued  him  and  were  advancing  in  vast 
numbers.  The  savages  listened  unsuspi 
ciously,  and  asked  with  alarm,  *'  How  ma 
ny  are  coining?" — "  A  thousand  !"  he  had 
seen  in  one  body,  answered  Cuyler,  and 
"a  thousand  in  another,"  and  he  did  not 
know  "  how  many  more,"  but,  looking  up 
into  the  surrounding  trees,  he  declared 
that  he  believed  "  they  were  as  numer 
ous  as  the  leaves."  Soon  came  in  one  of 
Cuylcr's  Indian  confederates,  about  whom 
his  fellow-savages  pressed  as  eager  listen 
ers  ;  and  receiving  from  his  lips  a  confir 
mation  of  Cuyler's  story  of  the  approach 
of  the  Americans,  and  still  more  extraor 
dinary  accounts  of  their  force,  they  be 
came  greatly  alarmed. 

Colonel  St.  Leger  was  soon  conscious 
of  the  agitation  among  his  Indians,  cre 
ated  by  these  reports.  The  chiefs  hurried 
to  him,  and,  confronting  him  angrily,  thus 
addressed  him :  "  You  mean  to  sacrifice 
us  !  When  we  marched  down,  you  told 
us  there  would  be  no  fighting  for  u*s  In 
dians  ;  we  might  go  home,  and  smoke  our 
pipes ;  whereas  numbers  of  our  warriors 
have  been  killed  !"  St.  Leger  strove  to 
allay  their  fears  and  anger,  promising  to 
lead  them  on  himself  against  the  enemy, 
and  cover  them  with  a  van  of  three  hun 
dred  of  his  best  troops.  They  appeared 
quieted  for  the  time,  and  agreed  to  go 
out  the  next  morning  to  choose  the  prop 
er  ground  for  a  field  of  battle. 

St.  Leger  went  out  accordingly  early 
on  the  following  day  with  his  Indian  war 
riors,  and,  having  chosen  his  ground,  drew 
up  his  force.  Soon,  however,  there  came 
an  Indian,  a  second  confederate  of  the 
wily  Yan  Yost  Cuyler,  with  the  report 


that  the  enemy  were  advancing  with  two 
thousand  men ;  and  immediately  he  was 
followed  by  a  third  dusky  fellow,  who  de 
clared  that  all  Burgoyne's  army  had  been 
cut  to  pieces,  and  that  General  Arnold 
was  pushing  forward  by  rapid  and  forced 
marches  with  three  thousand  men  !  The 
savages  now  became  so  pnnic-stricken, 
that  two  hundred  decamped  immediately, 
and  the  rest  threatened  to  follow.  St. 
Leger  called  Sir  John  Johnson  to  his  aid 
in  this  emergency,  but  even  his  undoubt 
ed  influence  over  the  Indians  proved  on 
this  occasion  of  no  avail. 

The  savages  persisting  in  their  deter 
mination  to  leave  St.  Leger,  unless  he 
should  retreat,  he  was  forced  to  comply. 
He  proposed,  however,  to  retire  with  de 
liberation  during  the  night,  having  first 
sent  on  before  him  his  sick,  wounded,  and 
artillery.  But  the  Indians  were  too  im 
patient  to  go,  and  too  eager  for  the  con 
fusion  of  a  hurried  movement,  to  consent 
to  a  delayed  and  orderly  retreat.  They 
artfully  kept  up  the  alarm  in  the  camp, 
by  causing  messengers  to  steal  away  and 
come  in  again,  with  rumors  that  the  ene 
my  were  approaching.  The  colonel,  not 
withstanding,  resisted  their  importunities 
to  march,  until  the  savages  "  grew  furious 
and  abandoned  ;  seized  upon  the  officers' 
liquor  and  clothes,  in  spite  of  the  efforts 
of  their  servants ;  and  became  more  for 
midable,"  says  St. Leger, "  than  the  enemy 
we  had  to  expect."  He  was  now  forced 
to  retire  before  night,  and,  having  called 
in  his  advanced  posts,  hurried  off  toward 
Oswego. 

«  They  went  oft;"  says  Cordon,  «  and  St. 
Leger  was,  about  noon  of  the  22d  [Au- 


528 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


gust],  in  such  hurry  and  confusion,  as  to 
leave  his  bombardier  asleep  in  the  bomb- 
battery.  His  tents,  with  most  of  the  ar 
tillery  and  stores,  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  garrison.  Some  of  the  Indian  sa 
chems,  who  were  highly  disgusted  with 
him,  concluded  to  play  upon  him,  and  di 
vert  themselves  at  his  expense.  In  the 
evening  the  flying  troops  came  to  a  clay 
soil,  pretty  soft.  St.  Leger  and  Sir  John 
Johnson  were  in  an  altercation,  St.  Leger 
reproaching  Sir  John  about  his  Indians, 
and  Sir  John  blaming  St.  Leger  for  not 
carrying  on  the  siege  differently. 

"A  couple  of  Indian  chiefs,  upon  a  ri 
sing  hill  at  a  small  distance,  with  light 
enough  to  observe  their  situation,  and 
near  enough  to  notice  their  wranglings, 
which  proceeded  almost  to  fighting,  di 
rected  an  Indian  to  withdraw  some  con 
siderable  way  behind  them,  and  then  to 
run  after  them,  crying  out  with  all  ima 
ginable  earnestness  in  the  Indian  lan 
guage,  '•Then  are  coming!  then  are  coining!' 
and  to  continue  it. 

"  St.  Leger  and  Sir  John,  upon  hearing 
the  dismal  note,  made  off  as  fast  as  they 
could,  but  often  tumbled  into  the  dirt. 
The  men  pushed  off  in  the  greatest  hur 
ry.  The  Indians  renewed  the  joke  ;  and 
continued  thus,  and  in  like  ways,  till  the 
royalists  arrived  at  the  Oneida  lake." 

The  garrison  at  Fort  Schuyler  were 
greatly  mystified  by  this  sudden  move 
ment  of  the  enemy.  Colonel  Gansevoort 
knew  the  strength  of  the  besiegers,  and 
how  day  after  day  they  had  been  labori 
ously  proceeding  with  their  works,  appa 
rently  with  full  confidence  in  a  success 
ful  issue  to  their  operations.  They  had 


peremptorily  summoned  him  to  surren 
der  ;  and,  although  he  had  resolutely  an 
swered  that  he  would  defend  the  fort  to 
the  last  extremit}',  there  had  seemingly 
occurred  nothing  in  the  relations  between 
the  besiegers  and  besieged  to  justify  this 
sudden  retreat  of  the  enemy.  The  mys 
tery,  however,  was  soon  cleared  up  by 
the  arrival  of  the  cunning  Cuyler  at  the 
fort.  Fearful  that  his  trick  might  be  de 
tected,  and  he  meet  with  the  punishment 
which  he  deserved,  the  rogue  had  fled  in 
the  night,  during  the  confusion  of  St.  Le- 
ger's  retreat,  and  made  his  way  to  Colo 
nel  Gansevoort,  to  whom  Cuyler,  himself 
the  principal  agent,  now  disclosed  the 
ruse  by  which  St.  Leger  had  been  forced 
to  raise  the  siege. 

General  Arnold  did  not  await  the  re 
sult  of  his  cunning  device  against  the 
enemy  nor  reinforcements  from  Gates, 
before  marching.  He  resolved,  with  his 
usual  impetuosity,  to  push  on  to  the  re 
lief  of  Gaiisevoort  with  the  force  at  his 
command,  however  small.  But  he  had 
not  <>;ot  far  when  a  New- York  regiment 

O  *— > 

found  him,  having  been  sent  by  Gates,  to 
whom  Arnold  thus  wrote  from  the  Ger 
man  Flats  :  "  I  leave  this  place  this  morn 
ing,  with  twelve  hundred  conti- 

Ang,  21. 
nental  troops  and  a  handtiil  ot 

militia,  for  Fort  Schuyler,  still  besieged 
by  a  force  equal  to  ours.  You  will  hear 
of  my  being  victorious  —  or  no  more.  As 
soon  as  the  safety  of  this  part  of  the  coun 
try  will  permit,  I  will  fly  to  your  assist 
ance."  He  was  still  pressing  forward  in 
his  march  toward  the  fort,  when  he  heard 
of  the  success  of  his  ruse,  and  accordingly 
determined  to  return  and  join  Gates. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  BRITISH  FLEET  IN  CHESAPEAKE  BAY. 


CHAPTEE    LV. 

Washington  in  Perplexity. — The  British  in  Chesapeake  Bay. — General  Howe's  Object. — Philadelphia. — The  Course  and 
Voyage  of  the  British  Fleet. — Washington  marches  from  Gcrmantown. — The  March  of  the  Americans  through  Phila 
delphia. — Landing  of  General  Howe. — Want  of  Horses. — Forestalled  by  the  Patriots. — Young  Henry  Lee. — "Light 
Horse  Harry." — General  Sullivan  under  a  Cloud. — Washington  determines  to  give  Howe  Battle. — The  Indefatigable 
Commander. — Chad's  Fort. — Order  of  Battle. — Approach  of  the  Enemy. — Battle  of  the  Brandywine. — Vain  Efforts 
of  Gallantry. — Retreat  of  the  Americans. — The  Killed  and  Wounded  — Conduct  of  the  French  Officers. — Gallantry  of 
Lafayette  and  De  Floury. — Lafayette  wounded. — Sullivan  again  under  Censure. — He  is  recalled  and  retained. 


1777, 


21. 


WASHINGTON,  after  being  a  long 
time  perplexed  in  regard  to  the 
movements  of  General  Howe,  and  forced 
to  shift  his  encampment  hither  and  thith 
er,  now  to  one  side  of  the  Delaware  and 
again  to  the  other,  finally  concluded,  to 
gether  with  his  officers  in  coun 
cil  assembled,  that  the  enemy's 
fleet  had  most  probably  sailed  for  Charles 
ton.  It  was,  however,  thought  expedient 
not  to  follow  Howe  to  the  southward,  but 
to  move  the  army  toward  the  North  riv 
er.  On  the  very  day  that  Washington 
was  preparing  to  march  in  accordance 
with  this  resolution,  he  received  intelli 
gence  that  two  hundred  sail  of  the  ene 
my  had  anchored  in  Chesapeake  bay, 
off  Swan  point,  nearly  two  hundred  miles 
from  the  capes.  There  was  now  no  doubt 
that  Philadelphia  was  Sir  William  Howe's 
object,  although  the  route  he  had  taken, 
(is  Washington  remarked,  was  "  a  very 
strange  one." 

The  course  of  the  British  fleet,  which 
had  caused  so  much  perplexing  specula 
tion,  had  been  directed,  not  according  to 
any  wily  schemes  of  General  Howe,  but 
by  the  caprice  of  the  weather,  and  the 
force  of  circumstances  beyond  his  control. 
67 


The  army  had  embarked  on  the  5th  of 
July,  but  was  detained  by  a  head-wind  at 
Sandy  Hook  until  the  23d,  and  after  sail 
ing  did  not  make  the  capes  of  Delaware 
until  the  30th.  It  was  Howe's  intention 
to  have  sailed  up  the  Delaware  to  Phila 
delphia,  but,  receiving  intelligence  that 
the  Americans  had  raised  prodigious  im 
pediments  on  that  river,  he  changed  his 
mind  and  stood  for  the  mouth  of  the  Elk, 
which  opens  into  Chesapeake  bay.  He 
was  now  so  baffled  by  the  prevalent  south 
erly  winds  of  the  season,  that  he  did  not 
succeed  in  entering  the  Chesapeake  until 
this  late  period  (the  21st  of  August).  His 
troops, both  cavalry  and  infantry,  crowded 
into  the  holds  of  the  transports,  during 
the  hottest  season  of  the  year,  and  unpro 
vided  with  the  necessaries  and  comforts 
for  a  long  voyage,  suffered  greatly.  The 
soldiers  were  weakened  by  the  protracted 
confinement  on  shipboard,  and  the  horses 
became  nearly  useless. 

Washington  now  changed  the  direction 
of  his  march,  and  determined  to  proceed 
from  Germantown,  where  he  was  then  en 
camped,  in  a  southerly  direction  along 
the  western  bank  of  the  Delaware,  in  or 
der  to  meet  and  oppose  the  approach  of 


530 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAKT  11. 


the  enemy.  He  also  sent  for  General  Sul 
livan,  who  was  at  that  time  on  the  North 
river,  to  join  him  with  his  division.  With 
the  view  of  exerting  "  some  influence  on 
the  minds  of  the  disaffected  there,  and 
those  who  are  dupes  to  their  artifices  and 
opinions,"  Washington  marched  his  army 
through  Philadelphia. 

The  whole  force  amounted  to  nearly 
nine  thousand  men,  and  that  their  march 
through  the  city  produced  the  impression 
desired  may  be  inferred  from  the  account 
given  by  Graydon,  who  from  "  the  coffee-, 
house  corner"  beheld  them  as  they  passed. 
"  These,"  he  says,  "  though  indifferently 
dressed,  held  well- burnished  arms,  and 
carried  them  like  soldiers,  and  looked,  in 
short,  as  if  they  might  have  faced  an  equal 
number  with  a  reasonable  prospect  of  suc 
cess."  Passing  on  through  Philadelphia 
without  halting,  the  army  continued  its 
march  through  Derby  and  Chester,  to 
Wilmington. 

Sir  William  Howe,  in  the  meantime, 
had  landed  on  the  banks  of  the  Elk  river, 
at  the  head  of  Chesapeake  bay, 
and  moved  his  troops  to  within 
two  miles  of  the  town  of  Elk  (Elkton),  in 
Maryland,  where  he  encamped  them  up 
on  the  hills.  Howe  had  lost  so  many 
horses  during  his  long  voyage,  that  he 
was  unable  to  send  out  those  mounted 
parties  by  which  he  had  hoped  to  scour 
the  country,  and  secure  supplies.  The 
Americans  were  thus  enabled  to  frustrate 
him ;  and,  being  now  provided  with  an 
excellent  cavalry-force,  they  succeeded 
not  only  in  securing  a  good  portion  of 
the  public  stores  deposited  at  the  head 
of  the  Elk,  but  in  greatly  harassing  the 


Aug.  25, 


British  advanced  pickets.     Young  Harry 
Lee,  with  his  lii>;ht-horse,  did  i>reat  ser- 

'  O  *  O 

vice  in  these  skirmishes. 

Lee  was  a  young  Virginian  —  at  this 
time  only  twenty  years  of  age.  His  name 
sake,  General  Charles  Lee,  declared  that 
"he  came  forth  a  soldier  from  his  mother's 
womb."  Washington  warmly  welcomed 
the  youth  when  he  first  offered  his  ser 
vices,  gave  him  the  command  of  a  com 
pany  of  light-horse,  and  watched  ever  af 
ter  with  fond  admiration  his  spirited  ca 
reer.  "  Perhaps,"  says  Irving,  "  there  was 
something  beside  his  bold,  dashing  spirit, 
which  won  him  this  favor.  There  may 
have  been  early  recollections  connected 
with  it.  Lee  was  the  son  of  the  lady  who 
first  touched  Washington's  heart  in  his 
schoolboy  days,  the  one  about  whom  he 
wrote  rhymes  atMountVernon  and  Green- 
way  Court — his  lowland  beauty."  Lee's 
gallantry,  in  fact,  was  noticed  by  the  en 
tire  army,  and  his  services  as  a  cavalry- 
officer  were  so  remarkable,  that  he  was 
popularly  known  as  "Light-horse  Harry." 
Washington  took  care  to  record  the  deeds 
of  his  youthful  compatriot:  "  Ten  o'clock. — 
This  minute  twenty-four  British  prison 
ers  arrived,  taken  yesterday  by  Captain 
Lee  of  the  light-horse,"  is  a  postscript  to 
his  letter  to  the  president  of  Congress, 
dated  Wilmington,  30th  of  August. 

General  Sullivan, in  obedience  to  Wash 
ington's  orders,  had  joined  the  army  with 
his  division.  He  came  back,  however,  with 
some  imputations  resting  upon  his  con 
duct  in  an  unsuccessful  enterprise  against 
Staten  island.  It  was  resolved  to  appoint 
a  court  of  inquiry  to  investigate  the  mat 
ter,  while  in  the  meantime  he  was  left  in 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


POSITION  OF  THE  HOSTILE  ARMIES. 


531 


full  command.  Sullivan  was  frequently 
exposed  to  charges  of  ill  conduct ;  but,  as 
he  always  brought  forward  proof  of  his 
courage  and  the  sincerity  of  his  patriot 
ism.,  he  never  failed  to  reinstate  himself, 
if  not  in  public  opinion,  at  any  rate  in  his 
rank  in  the  army. 

Washington's  army  now  amounted  to 
fifteen  thousand  men,  although  the  effect 
ive  force,  from  sickness  and  other  causes, 
was  calculated  at  only  eleven  thousand. 
He  had  determined,  however,  to  give  the 
enemy  battle,  though  the  latter  were  es 
timated  to  possess  the  greatly  superior 
strength  of  eighteen  thousand.  There 
were  not  wanting  those  who  considered 
Washington's  resolution  to  fight  under 
the  disadvantage  of  such  inferior  num 
bers  as  imprudent.  He  believed,  never 
theless,  that,  with  the  choice  of  a  good 
position,  he  might  make  an  effective  re 
sistance.  Moreover,  he  thought  that,  to 
retreat  before  General  Howe,  and  allow 
him  to  march  to  Philadelphia  without  op 
position;  would  dispirit  the  country  and 
injure  the  cause  even  more  than  a  de 
feat. 

Washington  was  indefatigable  in  pre 
paring  for  the  contest.  He  was  constant 
ly  in  his  saddle,  riding  about  the  country, 
in  spite  of  the  heavy  rains,  to  reconnoitre 
the  position  of  the  enemy,  and  to  select 
proper  ground  for  opposing  their  advance. 
It  was  finally  concluded  to  move  from 
Wilmington  to  Newport,  where  the  army 
was  posted  in  a  line  along  the  bank  of 
the  Red-Clay  creek.  The  British, 
in  the  meantime,  had  advanced 
within  eight  miles,  and  taken  their  posi 
tion  on  Iron  hill.  Skirmishes  ensued  be- 


Septi  7. 


tween  the  advanced  pickets  of  both  ar 
mies,  but  with  little  advantage  to  either 
side. 

General  Howe  now  made  another  for 
ward  movement,  with  the  appa- 

tj'ftf      C 

rent  intention  of  attacking  the 
Americans.  Washington  waited  for  him 
the  whole  day ;  but  finding  that  he  had 
halted  at  Milltown,  within  two  miles  of 
the  American  encampment, and  it  appear 
ing  probable  that  the  enemy  only  intend 
ed  "  to  amuse  us,"  says  Washington,  "  in 
front,  while  their  real  intent  was  to  march 
by  our  right,  and  by  suddenly  passing  the 
Brandy  wine,  and  gaining  the  heights  up 
on  the  north  side  of  that  river,  get  be 
tween  us  and  Philadelphia,  and  cut  us  off 
from  that  city,"  he  judged  it  expedient 
to  move  his  position  immediately. 

Washington  accordingly  retired,  and, 
crossing  the  Brandy  wine,  posted 
his  army  on  the  heights,  near  to 
Chad's  ford.  The  Brandywine,  rising  by 
two  branches,  that  unite  at  what  is  called 
the  Fork,  flows  in  a  small  stream  from 
west  to  east,  and  empties  into  the  Dela 
ware,  about  twenty-five  miles  south  of 
Philadelphia,  The  principal  ford  of  the 
river  was  Chad's,  on  the  direct  road  to 
the  north,  although  there  were  others 
above  and  below. 

Having  crossed  the  Brandy  wine,  Wash 
ington  posted  his  centre  along  the  east 
ern  bank,  near  Chad's  ford,  where,  expect 
ing  the  main  attack  of  the  enemy,  he  com 
manded  in  person.  His  right  wing,  un 
der  General  Sullivan,  was  moved  two 
miles  above,  on  the  same  side  of  the  riv 
er  ;  and  his  left,  consisting  of  Pennsylva 
nia  militia,  under  General  Armstrong,  to 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Sept.  10, 


the  same  distance  at  a  ford  below  Chad's. 
The  main  body,  with  the  general-in-chief, 
was  composed  of  Wayne's  brigade,  Wee- 
don's  and  Muhlenberg's,  under  General 
Greene,  together  with  a  body  of  light-in 
fantry  commanded  by  General  Maxwell, 
and  the  artillery.  Sullivan,  on  the  right, 
had  his  own  division  and  those  of  Lord 
Stirling  and  General  Stephen.  With  Arm 
strong,  on  the  left,  where  the  position  was 
considered  of  less  importance,  there  were 
no  troops  but  militia. 

On  the  following  day,  the  en 
emy  had  advanced  to  Kennet 
Square,  within  seven  miles  of  the  Bran 
dy  wine.  Washington,  in  the  meantime, 
sent  General  Maxwell  and  his  light-in- 
faritry  across  the  stream,  to  post  them 
selves  on  the  high  ground  on  both  sides 
of  the  road  leading  to  Chad's  ford,  the 
passage  of  which  they  were  ordered  to 
resist  to  the  utmost.  Sullivan,  too,  was 
directed  to  be  on  the  alert  in  watching 
the  fords  above.  This  officer  was  appa 
rently  vigilant,  but  only  extended  his 
watchfulness  to  some  four  miles  to  his 
right,  as  far  as  the  fork  where  the  two 
branches  of  the  Brandywine  unite,  and 
beyond  which  it  was  thought  there  was 
no  likelihood  of  the  enemy  attempting 
to  cross. 

After  halting  a  night  at  Kennet  Square, 
the  British  moved  on  early  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  next  day,  in  two  col 
umns.  One,  under  the  command 
of  the  Hessian  general,  Knyphausen,  ad 
vanced  in  a  direct  line  along  the  road  to 
Chad's  ford.  The  other,  commanded  by 
Lord  Cornwallis,  and  accompanied  by 
General  Howe,  diverged  to  their  left,  and 


Sept,  11, 


Sept,  11, 


proceeded  by  way  of  the  Lancaster  road, 
which  ran  nearly  parallel  to  the  principal 
stream  of  the  Brandywine,  and  crossed 
the  two  branches  or  forks  which  form  it 
at  its  rise. 

As  soon  as  General  Knyphausen  was 
discovered  advancing  toward  him,  Wash 
ington  prepared  to  give  him  bat 
tle,  thinking  that  his  column  was 
the  main  body  of  the  enemy.  Knyphau 
sen  came  on,  firing  his  artillery,  but  was 

O  */  7 

soon  checked  by  General  Maxwell,  who 
from  the  heights  on  each  side  of  the  road 
poured  down  upon  the  advanced  guards 
such  a  severe  fire,  that  they  were  forced 
to  fall  back  until  reinforced  by  the  rest 
of  the  troops.  So  large  a  force  now  came 
pushing  on  to  their  aid,  that  the  Ameri 
cans  were  obliged  to  retire  across  the  ford 
and  join  their  main  body  under  Washing 
ton.  Three  hundred  of  the  enemy  were 
supposed  to  have  been  killed  and  wound 
ed  in  this  preliminary  skirmish,  while  the 
loss  of  Maxwell  was  only  about  fifty  men. 
Knyphausen  held  back  his  troops,  halting 
them  on  the  heights  from  which  the  Amer 
ican  light-infantry  had  retired.  He  did 
not  seem  anxious  to  renew  the  engage 
ment,  though  frequently  provoked  to  do 
so  by  skirmishing-parties  from  the  other 
side.  Maxwell  crossed  the  ford  a  second 
time  with  his  light-corps,  and  drove  an 
advanced  party  from  their  ground,  with 
a  loss  to  the  British  of  thirty  men  left 
dead  on  the  spot,  and  a  number  of  in- 
trench  ing-tools  with  which  they  were  en 
gaged  in  throwing  up  works  for  a  battery. 
Knyphausen  still  held  back,  and  some  of 
the  Americans  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river  beinin  to  indulge  in  the  belief  that 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         APPROACH  AND  MANOEUVRES  OF  THE  BRITISH. 


533 


they  had  effectually  put  a  stop  to  his  fur 
ther  progress.  The  wary  Hessian  gener 
al,  however,  had  a  part  to  perform,  as  we 
shall  see,  and  designedly  resisted  all  prov 
ocations  to  engage. 

While  Washington  was  speculating  up 
on  the  probable  manoeuvres  of  the  Brit 
ish  in  his  front,  he  received  a  despatch, 
at  about  twelve  o'clock,  from  General 
Sullivan,  informing  him  that  one  of  his 
officers  had  reported  that  a  large  body 
of  the  enemy,  supposed  to  amount  to  five 
thousand,  with  sixteen  or  eighteen  field- 
pieces,  was  marching  along  the  Lancas 
ter  road.  Washington  immediately  sent 
orders  to  Sullivan  to  cross  the  Brandy- 
wine  and  attack  this  division,  while  he 
himself  proposed  to  advance  by  Chad's 
ford  against  the  other.  The  former  was 
the  main  body  of  the  British,  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  had  marched  under  Gener 
al  Howe  and  Lord  Cornwallis  to  the  left, 
with  the  view  of  taking  a  long,  circuitous 
route,  leading  across  the  unguarded  fords 
of  the  branches  of  the  Brandywine,  and 
thus  gaining  the  rear  of  the  Americans. 
The  division  in  front  of  the  commander- 
in-chief,  though  supposed  by  him  to  be 
the  main  body  of  the  enemy,  was  only  a 
smaller  column  sent  under  Knyphausen 
to  divert  the  Americans  in  front,  while 
the  main  attack  should  be  made  by  Howe 
and  Cornwallis  against  their  right  flank 
and  rear. 

Washington,  having  thus  discovered 
the  march  of  the  British  column  under 
Howe  and  Cornwallis,  was  in  a  fair  way 
of  thwarting  their  designs,  when  another 
messenger  arrived  in  all  haste  with  intel 
ligence  from  Sullivan,  contradicting  the 


information  which  he  had  sent  but  a  few 
moments  before.  Major  Spear,  of  the  mi 
litia,  had  come  in  from  the  fork  of  the 
Brandywine,  and,  having  heard  nothing 
of  the  enemy,  "was  confident"  that  they 
were  not  in  that  quarter.  The  orders  for 
crossing  the  Brandywine  were  now  coun 
termanded  ;  but  Washington  took  care  to 
secure  more  certain  intelligence  by  send 
ing  Colonel  Bland,  with  a  troop  of  cav 
alry,  to  reconnoitre  the  country  beyond 
General  Sullivan's  position,  and  report  at 
the  earliest  moment  to  that  commander 
the  result. 

In  the  mean  time,  one  Thomas  Cheyney, 
a  farmer  of  that  neighborhood,  and  a  firm 
patriot,  came  riding  in  upon  his  "  spirited 
mare  all  in  a  foam,"  and  declared  that  he 
had  seen  the  British,  in  a  large  body,  on 
the  north  side  of  the  river.  Washington 
affirmed  that  it  could  not  be,  for  he  had 
just  received  contrary  information.  "  My 
life  upon  it,"  answered  Cheyney,  with  a 
round  oath,  to  give  emphasis  to  his  dec 
laration,  "  it  is  true  !"  He  was,  however, 
listened  to  incredulously,  when  his  story 
was  confirmed  a  moment  after  by  the  fol 
lowing  despatch,  received  by  Washing 
ton  :  — 

"Two  O'CLOCK,  P.  M. 

"  DEAR  GENERAL:  Colonel  Bland  has  this 
moment  sent  me  word  that  the  enemy 
are  in  the  rear  of  my  right  about  two 
miles,  coming  down.  There  are,  he  says, 
about  two  brigades  of  them.  He  also 
says  he  saw  a  dust  back  in  the  country 
for  above  an  hour.  I  am,  &c., 

"  JOHN  SULLIVAN." 

Howe  and  Cornwallis  had  thus  carried 
out  their  design  with  success.  They  had 


534 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAUT  ii. 


succeeded,  by  a  long  circuit  of  seventeen 
miles,  in  crossing  the  Brandywine  at  the 
fords  over  the  two  branches  of  the  river, 
and  gained  the  rear  of  the  right  wing  of 
Washington's  army  without  opposition. 
They  now  took  an  advantageous  position 
on  the  high  ground  near  the  Birmingham 
meetinghouse,  which  Sullivan's  delay  in 
waiting  for  orders  gave  them  an  oppor 
tunity  of  doing  without  the  least  show 
of  resistance.  The  order  to  attack  came 
from  Washington  as  soon  as  he  learned 
the  approach  of  the  enemy. 

General  Sullivan  was  directed  to  bring 
his  "whole  right  wing  to  bear  at  once 
against  Howe  and  Cornwallis ;"  while 
Wayne  was  ordered  to  keep  Knyphausen 
in  check  at  Chad's  ford ;  and  General 
Greene  to  post  himself  with  the  Virginia 
brigades  in  a  position  between  the  two, 
and  hold  himself  in  reserve  and  ready  to 
assist  either  as  might  be  required. 

Some  absurd  misunderstanding  about 
etiquette  delayed  Sullivan's  troops  in  get 
ting  into  line  of  battle  after  marching  to 
meet  the  enemy.  General  Deborre,  a 
veteran  Frenchman,  who  had  a  command 
in  Lord  Stirling's  division,  assumed  the 
post  of  honor,  on  the  extreme  right.  Sul 
livan  claimed  this  as  his  own  position, 
and,  while  manoeuvring  his  men  to  take 
it,  the  British  began  the  attack,  and  came 
upon  the  Americans  wrhile  in  the  confu 
sion  of  the  change.  The  consequence  was, 
an  almost  immediate  rout  of  the  right  and 
left  wings.  The  centre  resisted  spirited 
ly  for  awhile,  but  it  soon  gave  way,  and 
fled  with  the  rest  through  the  woods  in 
their  rear. 

While  the  enemy  got  somewhat  bewil 


dered  among  the  trees,  in  the  course  of 
their  pursuit,  the  American  officers  strove 
to  rally  their  men.  Among  them  was  La 
fayette,  who  had  hurried  from  the  side 
of  Washington  to  join  Sullivan's  division 
so  soon  as  he  found  that  it  was  likely  to 
be  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight,  and  had 
been  engaged  in  the  struggle  as  long  as 
the  centre  held  its  ground.  Now  that  it 
had  given  way,  he  dismounted,  and,  with 
Sullivan  and  Lord  Stirling,  was  striving 
to  bring  back  the  men  to  the  attack,  when 
he  was  wounded  by  a  musket-ball  in  the 
leg.  His  aid-de-camp  was,  fortunately, 
near  by,  and,  lifting  the  marquis  upon  his 
horse,  hurried  him  off. 

Knyphausen,  as  soon  as  he  heard  the 
first  gun  from  General  Howe's  column, 
which  was  the  signal  agreed  upon,  strove 
in  earnest  to  push  his  way  across  Chad's 
fbrd.  Wayne, however, succeeded  in  keep 
ing  him  pretty  well  in  check. 

Washington,  who  found  that  the  right 
wing  would  be  hard  pressed,  ordered  Gen 
eral  Greene  to  the  relief  of  Sullivan  ;  and 
that  officer  moved  with  such  speed,  that 
his  division  marched  four  miles  in  forty 
minutes  !  He  came  up,  however,  only  in 
time  to  meet  the  Americans  in  full  flight, 
closely  followed  by  the  British.  He  then, 
by  skilfully  opening  his  ranks  to  allow 
the  fugitives  to  pass,  and  closing  them 
afterward,  succeeded  in  protecting  their 
retreat.  While  checking  the  pursuit  of 
the  enemy  by  his  artillery,  Greene  retired 
to  a  narrow  defile  at  a  short  distance  be 
yond  Dilworth,  where  he  made  a  gallant 
stand  with  his  Virginians.  The  British 
repeatedly  attempted  to  force  him  from 
his  position,  but  were  constantly  foiled 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  THP:  BRANDYWINE. 


535 


by  the  stubborn  resistance  they  encoun 
tered.  Greene  was  thus  enabled  to  cover 
the  retreat  of  the  whole  army.  General 
Howe  finally  drew  off  his  troops  from  the 
pursuit.  „ 

In  the  meantime,  General  Wayne  strug 
gled  manfully  against  Knyphausen,  at 
Chad's  ford,  until  the  defeat  of  Sullivan, 
when  he  ordered  a  retreat.  This,  how 
ever,  soon  became  a  confused  flight,  in 
the  course  of  which  his  baggage  and  ar 
tillery  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
The  Pennsylvania  militia,  under  General 
Armstrong,  had  been  too  far  removed  from 
the  scene  of  conflict  to  be  engaged,  and 
retired  early  in  safety. 

The  whole  American  army  was  now  in 
full  retreat.  "  Fugitives,  cannon,  and  bag 
gage,"  wrote  Lafayette,  "crowded  with 
out  order  along  the  road  leading  to  Ches 
ter."  It  was  the  young  marquis's  first 
taste  of  actual  war,  and  the  impression  of 
its  horrors  was  naturally  very  strong.  In 
spite  of  "  that  dreadful  confusion,"  and 
the  "  darkness  of  the  night,"  of  which  he 
speaks,  having  had  his  bleeding  wound 
bound  up  by  a  surgeon,  he  was,  however, 
as  he  tells  us,  indefatigable  in  trying  to 
check  the  flight  of  the  fugitives  at  Ches 
ter  bridge,  where  he  posted  a  guard.  On 
reaching  this  place,  Washington  reformed 
his  scattered  troops,  and  halted  until  the 
next  morning,  before  continuing  the  re 
treat  toward  Philadelphia. 

The  number  of  the  killed  and  wound 
ed  has  never  been  accurately  ascertained. 
The  loss  of  the  Americans,  however,  was 
declared  by  General  Howe  to  be  three 
hundred  killed, six  hundred  wounded, and 
tour  hundred  taken  prisoners;  while  his 


Sept.  12. 


own  was  estimated  by  him  at  only  ninety 
killed,  four  hundred  and  eighty- eight 
wounded,  and  six  missing.  On  the  day 
after  the  battle,  the  British  gen 
eral  wrote  to  Washington,  in 
forming  him  that  the  wounded  Ameri 
cans  were  so  numerous,  that  his  own  sur 
geons  could  not  attend  them. 

The  French  officers  took  a  prominent 
share  in  the  Brandywine  battle.  The 
young  Lafayette,  as  we  have  seen,  gal 
lantly  sought  the  place  of  danger,  and 
was  wounded.  The  veteran  Deborre  — 
who  had  insisted  upon  the  command  of 
Sullivan's  right — had,  in  consequence  of 
the  flight  of  his  troops,  been  the  first  to 
yield  to  the  enemy.  Congress  voted  to 
inquire  into  his  conduct  on  the  occasion. 
At  this  resolution  he  was  greatly  indig 
nant,  and  wrote  to  that  body,  resigning 
his  appointment,  while  he  declared  that, 
if  the  Americans  did  run  away,  it  was  not 
his  fault.  His  resignation  was  readily 
accepted ;  for,  whatever  may  have  been 
his  military  qualities,  he  had  become  so 
personally  unpopular  in  the  army,  that 
Congress  was  rejoiced  to  get  rid  of  him. 
Captain  Louis  de  Fleury  fought  so  brave 
ly,  that  he  won  Washington's  admiration, 
and  was  rewarded  by  Congress  with  the 
gift  of  a  horse,  to  compensate  him  for  the 
one  that  he  had  lost  in  the  engagement. 
The  baron  St.  Ouary  (or  Ovary)  was  less 
fortunate,  having  been  taken  prisoner. 
General  Conway  (who  was  a  Frenchman 
by  adoption)  had  stood  among  the  fore 
most  with  his  eight  hundred  men  in  the 
centre,  while  the  right  and  left  had  given 
way. 

General  Greene  complained  that  the 


530 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  IT. 


Virginia  regiments  of  Weedon  and  Muh- 
lenburg,  which,  under  his  command,  had 
so  gallantly  defended  the  pass  at  Dil- 
worth,  were  not  noticed  by  Washington 
in  his  report  to  Congress.  The  command- 
er-in-chief  explained  that  he  had  been 
more  reserved  in  praise  of  them  because 
they  were  Virginians,  and  lest  it  might 
be  supposed  that  he  was  prejudiced  in 
their  favor. 


General  Sullivan  was  held  responsible 
by  public  opinion  for  a  large  portion  of 
the  disasters  of  the  day  at  the  Brandy- 
wine.  A  resolve  was  passed  by  Congress, 
recalling  him  from  the  army  until  a  court 
of  inquiry  should  be  held.  Washington, 
however,  declared  that  he  could  not  spare 
him  at  such  a  crisis  in  the  public  affairs, 
and  Sullivan  was  accordingly  left  undis 
turbed  in  his  command. 


CHAPTER   LVI. 

General  Burgoyne  in  Receipt  of  Bad  News. — The  British  Commanders  mutually  in  the  Dark. — Burgoyne  determines  to 
advance. — General  Gates  proposes  to  meet  Him. — His  Resources. — General  Lincoln  hanging  on  the  Rear  of  the 
Enemy. — Successes  of  Colonel  Brown. — The  Americans  at  Stillwater. — Bemis's  Heights  and  their  Fortifications. — 
Burgoyne  willing  to  risk  All. — "A  Victory,  and  an  Empire!" — A  Brilliant  Plan. — The  Arrival  of  the  Enemy. — A 

Halt. — The  Opposing  Lines. — Arrival   of  General   Stark. — A  Hearty  Welcome. — The  First   Battle   at  Saratoga. 

Morgan  "ruined." — The  Impetuous  Arnold. — Progress  of  the  Struggle. — Burgoyne  claims  a  Victory. — The  Baroness 
Reidusel  and  Lady  Harriet  Ackland. — Their  Devotion  and  Fortitude. — Life  in  a  Camp. — Following  the  Drum. — 
Battle  Horrors 


WHHN   the   discouraging   intelli 
gence  of  the  defeat  of  Baume  at 
Benninorton  and  the  flight  of  St.  Lei^er 

o  o  o 

from  Fort  Schuyler  readied  General  Bui- 

*/ 

goyne  at  Battenkill,  on  the  Hudson,  he 
would  have  fallen  back  with  his  troops 
to  Fort  Edward,  within  reach  of  his  mag 
azines  on  the  lakes,  and  there  waited  the 
progress  of  events.  He  had,  however, 
been  positively  ordered  by  the  British 
government  to  form  a  junction  with  Sir 
William  Howe,  and  he  determined  at  all 
hazards  to  perform  his  part.  He  never 
theless  looked  in  vain  for  the  co-opera 
tion  of  Howe.  That  general,  in  conse 
quence  of  his  long  delay  on  the  coast, 
after  leaving  New  York,  did  not  receive 


his  despatches  in  time  to  pursue  the  plan 
of  operations  laid  down  bv  the  govern- 

^  O 

ment.  He  was  already  in  Chesapeake 
bay  before  the  orders  to  co-operate  with 
Burgoyne  reached  him.  He  was  then 
too  far  engaged  in  his  expedition  to  Phil 
adelphia  to  obey  them.  Burgoyne,  how 
ever,  having  no  intelligence  from  Howe, 
still  looked  for  a  junction  from  New  York, 
and  determined  to  push  on  toward  Alba 
ny,  in  order  to  do  his  part  toward  effect 
ing  it,  so  soon  as  he  should  receive  from 
the  north  the  necessary  supplies  for  a 
march. 

The  American  army,  having  retired  be 
fore  the  British  to  Van  Shaick's  island, 
where  the  Mohawk  unites  its  waters  with 


KKVOI.UTIONAKY.]         GENERAL  BURGOYNE  CROSSES  THE  HUDSON. 


537 


those  of  the  Hudson,  was  now  so  strength 
ened  by  reinforcements,  and  encouraged 
by  the  late  reverses  of  the  enemy,  that 
General  Gates  determined  to  march  his 
troops  back  to  meet  the  advance  of  Bur- 
goyne. 

Gates  felt  confident  in  his  means.  His 
army  now  numbered  about  six  thousand 
strong.  With  him  was  General  Arnold, 
restless  and  eager  for  action,  who  had  re 
turned  after  his  successful  ruse  against  St. 
Le^er.  With  him,  too,  was  the  famous 

<_;  f  f 

Colonel  Morgan,  with  his  five  hundred 
riflemen,  to  whose  ranks  were  added  two 
hundred  and  fifty  picked  soldiers  from 
the  line,  under  the  command  of  Major 
Dearborn,  who  had  marched  with  Arnold 
through  the  wilderness  of  Maine,  and  was 
an  old  comrade  of  Morgan.  Colonels  Van 
Cortlandt  and  Livingston  had  lately  come 
in  with  their  two  New-York  regiments. 
Arnold  was  Gates's  major-general;  Poor, 
Learned,  Nixon,  Glover,  and  Patterson, 
were  his  brigadiers.  Morgan,  Cook,  Van 
Cortlandt,  Henry  and  James  Livingston, 
Cilley,  Scammel,  Hale,  Brooks,  Butler, 
Bailey,  Wesson,  Jackson,  and  Marshall, 
were  the  colonels.  Morris,  Dearborn,  and 
Hull,  were  among  the  majors.  General 
Wilkinson  was  deputy  adjutant-general, 
and  Colonel  Morgan  Lewis  quartermas 
ter-general. 

General  Lincoln  was  now  in  the  New- 
Hampshire  grants,  with  the  militia,  which 
was  daily  gathering  in  force,  hanging  on 
the  left  and  rear  of  Burgoy lie's  army,  and 
watching  an  opportunity  for  action.  This 
soon  offered.  While  Burgoyne  was  kept 
in  forced  inactivity,  waiting  supplies,  Lin 
coln  gained  his  rear  and  sent  forward  a 
08 


Sept.  18. 


detachment  of  five  hundred  men,  under 
Colonel  Brown,  against  the  British  posts 
on  the  lakes.  This  enterprise  was  con 
ducted  with  such  secrecy  and  address 
that  Brown  succeeded  in  surprising  and 
gaining  possession  of  all  the  out 
posts  between  the  landing  at  the 
north  end  of  Lake  George  and  the  for 
tress  of  Ticonderoga.  Mount  Defiance, 
Mount  Hope,  the  old  French  lines,  two 
hundred  batteaux,an  armed  sloop,  several 
gun-boats,  and  two  hundred  and  ninety- 
three  prisoners,  were  captured,  almost 
without  a  blow.  The  fortresses  at  Ticon 
deroga  and  Mount  Independence  were 
too  strongly  garrisoned  for  Brown  to  mas 
ter  with  his  small  force ;  but  he  succeed 
ed  in  releasing  a  hundred  Americans  held 
as  prisoners,  and  bringing  off  as  a  trophy 
the  continental  flag  which  had  been  left 
by  St.  Clair  on  his  retreat.  He  still  con 
tinued  in  Burgoyne's  rear. 

The  American  army  began  to  retrace 
its  steps  toward  the  enemy  on  the  8th  of 
September,  and  next  day  reached  Still- 
water.  Here  Kosciusko,  who  was  the 
chief  engineer,  traced  a  line  for  intrench- 
ments,  and  set  a  thousand  men  to  work ; 
but  the  position  being  discovered  to  be 
untenable,  Gates  moved  his  army  to  Be- 
mis's  heights,  and  began  to  fortify  his 
ground  by  breastworks  and  redoubts. 

Burgoyne,  having  finally  received  his 
baggage,  artillery,  military  stores,  and 
thirty  days' pro  visions,  from  Lake  George, 
on  the  13th  and  14th  of  September  he 
crossed  the  Hudson  with  his  whole  army 
to  Saratoga.  He  had  now  risked  all  up 
on  the  chance  of  forcing  his  way  to  Al 
bany.  He  had  concentrated  his  troops, 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[_l'AR7    I1 


he  had  abandoned  his  communication  with 
the  lakes,  and  his  only  hope  was  now  to 
move  forward.  "  There  was  much  to  dis 
courage  and  positively  nothing  to  encour 
age"  such  an  advance,  but  Burgoyne  was 
determined  to  obey  orders;  and,  more 
over,  there  was  something  so  enticing  to 
a  military  leader  in  a  plan,  the  successful 
execution  of  which  it  was  believed  would 
not  only  secure  a  victory,  but  an  empire, 
that  it  is  not  surprising  he  should  have 
risked  all  on  the  chance,  however  remote, 
of  such  a  prize. 

The  British  ministry  believed  that  Bur- 
goyne's  force  by  moving  southward  along 
the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  and  Sir  William 
Howe's  by  advancing  northward,  could 
form  a  junction  at  Albany.  Here  there 
would  be  gathered  a  great  army,  which 
would  cut  off  all  communication  between 
the  eastern  and  southern  provinces,  and 
crush  out  all  further  opposition.  "  With 
out  question,"  says  an  English  writer,* 
K  the  plan  was  ably  formed  ;  and  had  the 
success  of  the  execution  been  equal  to 
the  ingenuity  of  the  design,  the  recon- 
quest  or  submission  of  the  thirteen  Uni 
ted  States  must  in  all  human  probability 
have  followed ;  and  the  independence 
which  they  proclaimed  in  1776  would 
have  been  extinguished  before  it  existed 
a  second  year." 

Burgoyne,  after  crossing  the  Hudson 
to  Saratoga,  moved  forward  toward  the 
American  encampment.  As  the  country 
was  rugged,  and  seamed  with  creeks  and 
water-courses,  his  progress  was  necessa 
rily  slow,  for  he  was  forced  to  construct 
bridges  and  build  temporary  causeways 

+  Creary. 


before  his  army  could  move.  Gates,  too, 
took  care  to  harass  the  British  working- 
parties,  by  sending  out  the  ever-active 
Arnold,  with  fifteen  hundred  men,  who  so 
greatly  annoyed  Burgoyne,  that  he  was 
forced  to  advance  whole  regiments  be 
fore  he  could  i>'et  a  bridge  con- 
Sept,  18, 
structed.  I  he  enemy  at  length 

came  to  a  halt  within  two  miles  of  Gates's 
army. 

The  ground  upon  which  the  two  oppo 
sing  forces  were  encamped  may  be  thus 
described  :  On  the  north  was  what  is  now 
called  Wilbur's  basin,  where  the  main 
body  of  Burgoyne's  army  was  encamped. 
On  the  east  was  the  Hudson,  with  its  nar 
row  alluvial  flats.  Westward  from  the 
Hats  were  the  river  hills  and  an  elevated 
plateau,  terminating  in  Bemis's  heights. 
Through  the  plain,  branching  in  various 
directions,  ran  Mill  creek,  along  the  main 
channel  of  which  was  a  ravine.  South 
of  this  was  a  second  ravine  ;  and  nsrain  a 

'  O 

third  and  larger  one,  still  more  to  the 
south.  Bet\veen  these  two  latter  were 
the  principal  American  defences.  The 
whole  ground  was  covered  with  a  dense 
forest,  except  the  flats  and  some  cleared 
fields  called  Freeman's  farm,  which  was 
situated  toward  the  middle  of  the  plain, 
between  the  two  encampments.* 

The  American  defences  consisted  of  a 
line  of  breastworks  along  the  brow  of  the 
hills,  toward  the  river,  about  three  quar 
ters  of  a  mile  in  extent,  forming  a  curve, 
with  its  convexity  toward  the  enemy.  A 
strong  redoubt  was  raised  at  each  extrem 
ity,  and  one  near  the  centre,  so  as  to  com 
mand  the  flats.  From  the  base  of  the 

*  A.  B.  Street. 


KKVOLUTIONAKY.J         THE  AMERICANS  AND  BRITISH  AT  SARATOGA. 


539 


hills  was  an  intrenchment,  reaching  across 
the  fiats  to  the  Hudson,  with  a  battery  on 
the  margin  of  the  river,  guarding  a  float 
ing  bridge.  In  advance,  on  the  western 
border  of  Mill  creek,  near  where  it  emp 
tied  into  the  Hudson,  were  also  a  breast 
work  and  battery. 

On  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  Septem 
ber  the  following  was  the  position  of  the 
two  armies  :  General  Poor's  brigade,  con 
sisting  of  three  New-Hampshire  regiments 
under  Colonels  Cilley,Scammel,and  Hale; 
two  of  New  York,  under  Colonel  Philip 
Van  Cortlandt  and  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Henry  Livingston;  Colonels  Cook  and 
Latimer's  Connecticut  militia ;  Colonel 
Morgan  with  his  rifle-corps,  and  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty  infantry  under  Major 
Dearborn,  composed  the  left  wing  of  the 
American  army,  under  the  command  of 
Major-General  Benedict  Arnold,  and  rest 
ed  on  the  heights,  nearly  a  mile  from  the 
river.  The  centre,  composed  of  General 
Learned's  brigade;  three  Massachusetts 
regiments,  under  Colonels  Bailey,  Wes 
son,  and  Jackson  ;  and  one  of  New  York, 
under  Colonel  James  Livingston,  occu 
pied  the  elevated  plain.  The  main  body, 
consisting  principally  of  the  brigades  of 
Nixon,  Patterson,  and  Glover,  and  com 
manded  by  General  Gates  in  person,  com 
posed  the  right  wing,  extending  across 
the  river  hills  and  ilats  toward  the  Hud 


son. 


The  American  army  was  greatly  en 
couraged  by  the  arrival  of  General  Stark, 
with  those  troops  which  had  so  gallantly 
won  the  day  at  Bennington.  Loud  huz 
zas  from  the  lines  welcomed  them  as  they 
entered  the  camp,  aud  great  service  was 


expected  from  them  in  the  approaching 
engagement.  They  were,  however,  inde 
pendent  militia,  and  did  not  seem  disposed 
to  submit  to  discipline.  They  swaggered 
about  in  loose  array  from  tent  to  tent, 
peering  curiously  into  everything,  and 
apparently  undetermined  whether  to  stay 
or  to  go.  They  now  began  to  collect  in 
groups,  and  whisper  mysteriously  togeth 
er.  Finally,  with  their  knapsacks  still  on 
their  backs,  they  boldly  reminded  their 
officers  that  their  time  of  service  had  expired 
thai  day,  and  that  they  had  resolved  to  go 
home.  Stark  urged  them  to  remain,  but 
his  appeals  were  in  vain  ;  and  the  heroes 
of  Bennington  inarched  back  again,  on 
the  very  day  they  had  arrived.  Rapidly 
as  they  hurried  off,  they  could  not  have 
got  beyond  the  sound  of  the  guns  when 
the  action  began ! 

The  left  wing  of  the  British,  with  the 
large  train  of  artillery,  under  General 
Phillips  and  the  baron  de  Reidesel,  occu 
pied  the  flats  toward  the  river.  The  cen 
tre  and  right  wing,  of  which  most  were 
Germans,  commanded  by  Burgoyne  in 
person,  extended  across  the  plains  to  the 
west.  Their  position  was  covered  by  the 
grenadiers  and  light-infantry,  under  Gen 
eral  Fraser  and  Colonel  Breyman.  On 
the  flanks  and  in  front  was  a  miscellane 
ous  throng  of  American  loyalists,  Cana 
dians,  and  Indians.* 

About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning 

the  officer  commanding;  an  Amer- 

Sept,  19 

ican  picket  reported  that  the  en 
emy  had  struck  most  of  their  tents  on  the 
plain,  and  that  Burgoyne  with  his  centre 
was  passing  westwardly  in  the  direction 

*  Street. 


540 


BATTLES  OF  AMP:  RIG  A. 


[l-ART    II. 


of  the  American  left.  Soon  a  more  gen 
eral  movement  was  observed.  Fraser, 
with  his  light-infantry,  was  marching,  by 
a  circuitous  route,  from  the  right  of  the 
British,  in  the  same  direction  as  Bur- 
goyne;  and  Phillips  and  De  Reidesel  were 
bringing  up  the  artillery  from  the  left, 
along  the  flats  bordering  the  Hudson. 
The  Indians  and  Canadians,  in  front  of 
the  British  line,  were  also  moving  toward 
the  outposts  of  the  American  centre.  Bur- 
goyne's  object  was,  while  the  Indians  and 
Canadians  should  divert  Gates  in  front, 
and  Phillips  and  De  Reidesel  on  his  right, 
to  move  round  through  the  woods,  and 
get  to  the  rear  of  the  American  left. 

General  Gates  remained  impassive,  ap 
parently  determined  to  await  the  attack  ; 
but  Arnold,  in  command  of  the  left,  grew 
so  impatient,  that  he  sent  aid-de-camp  af 
ter  aid-de-camp  to  Gates,  urging  him  to 
be  allowed  to  send  out  a  detachment,  in 
order  to  check  the  advance  of  the  enemy. 
The  general  finally  consented,  when  about 
noon  Arnold  ordered  out  Morgan  and 
Dearborn,  with  their  riflemen,  to  the  at 
tack.  They  soon  came  upon  a  body  of 
Indians  and  Canadians  in  the  woods,  and 
scattered  them  at  the  first  fire.  The  rifle 
men  now  pushed  on  in  pursuit,  when  they 
found  themselves  suddenly  brought  to  a 
check  by  being  confronted  with  the  whole 
British  line. 

A  complete  rout  of  the  Americans  en 
sued,  and  Morgan's  corps  was  so  scattered, 
that  he  himself  was  left  with  only  two  of 
his  men !  As  the  old  forest-hunter  was 
striving  with  his  shrill "  turkey-call"  ( from 
the  conch-shell  which  he  wore  suspended 
from  his  neck)  to  whistle  back  his  dis 


persed  troops,  Wilkinson,  the  adjutant- 
general,  rode  up.  "  I  am  ruined,  by  G-d  !" 
exclaimed  Morgan,  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 
"  Major  Morris  ran  on  so  rapidly  with  the 
front,  that  they  were  beaten  before  I 
could  get  up  with  the  rear,  and  my  men 
are  scattered  God  knows  where  !"  Mor 
gan,  when  marching  into  action,  always 
brought  up  the  rear  himself, "  to  see,"  as 
he  said,  "that  every  man  did  his  duty; 
and  that  cowards  did  not  lag  behind  while 
brave  men  were  fighting." 

Several  officers  and  men  of  Morgan's 
corps  had  been  taken  prisoners.  Major 
Morris,  who  had  led  them  on  so  impetu 
ously,  only  saved  himself  by  dashing  his 
horse  through  the  ranks  of  the  enem}^ 
who  surrounded  him,  and  making  oft'  by 
a  circuitous  route.  The  "  turkey  -call" 
soon  brought  back  the  fugitives,  and  Mor 
gan  with  his  corps  reformed,  and  being 
joined  by  Colonels  Cilley,  Brooks,  and 
Scammel,  and  Major  Hull,  with  their  New 
Hampshire  regiments,  is  now  again  pre 
pared  for  action.  It  is  renewed  with 
great  spirit  on  both  sides ;  now  the  Brit 
ish  are  gaining  ground,  and  again  the 
Americans ;  and  so  the  contest  is  contin 
ued,  with  fluctuating  result,  until  each 
party  finally  retires  within  the  intrench- 
ments,  while  neither  claims  the  advan 
tage. 

Arnold,  in  the  mean  time,  keeping  watch 
over  the  movement  of  General  Fraser — 
who  is  attempting  to  turn  the  American 
left — determines  to  thwart  him  by  cut 
ting  him  off  from  the  main  body  of  the 
British.  He  accordingly  pushes  on  rap 
idly  with  Colonel  Hale's  New-Hampshire 
regiment,  three  of  New  York  under  Van 


RKVOLUTIONAKY.J 


BATTLE  OF  BEMIS'S   HEIGHTS. 


541 


Cortland  and  Livingston,  and  a  body  of 
Connecticut  militia,  with  the  view  of  turn 
ing  Eraser's  left.  As,  however,  he  is  stri 
ving  to  carry  out  his  manoeuvre  unob 
served,  under  the  cover  of  the  forest,  he 
suddenly  comes  upon  Fraser  with  his 
whole  force,  and  a  struggle  ensues ;  but 
General  Phillips  soon  making  his  appear 
ance  with  his  artillery,  gave  the  enemy 
so  greatly  the  advantage,  that  the  Amer 
icans  prudently  retired.  There  was  now 
a  pause  in  the  action.  It  was,  however, 
soon  renewed. 

The  British  stood  in  line,  in  advance  of 
their  encampment,  upon  the  slope  of  a 
rising  ground,  amid  scattered  pines.  The 
American  ranks,  formed  ready  for  battle, 
were  opposite,  but  closely  hid  from  their 
enemy,  in  a  thick  forest.  Between  the 
two  was  "Freeman's  farm,"  a  cleared  field, 
once  cultivated  by  the  hand  of  the  peace 
ful  husbandman,  now  choked  with  weeds 
and  abandoned  to  the  tramp  of  the  sol 
dier.  This  Freeman's  farm,  between  the 
opposing  armies,  was  now  the  field  of  bat 
tle. 

The  British  provoke  the  conflict  by  a 
discharge  of  artillery.  The  Americans, 
however,  remain  unmoved.  Soon  the 
smoke  clears  away,  and  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy  are  seen  in  motion,  hurrying  down 
the  slope  with  apparent  irregularity,  as 
the  sight  is  confused  by  the  scattered 
pines.  They  now  show  themselves,  how 
ever,  in  close  and  well-ordered  array,  ad 
vancing  in  the  cleared  ground  below. 
They  come  on  quickly,  nearer  and  near 
er  ;  they  halt,  level  their  muskets,  firing 
a  volley,  and  then  rush  forward,  charging 
with  their  bayonets.  The  Americans  with 


hold  their  fire  until  the  British  are  close 
up,  and  then  with  a  sure  aim  pour  upon 
them  such  a  discharge,  that  their  ranks, 
reeling  with  the  shock,  finally  break  and 
give  way.  The  Americans  now  rush  from 
their  forest-covert  and  follow  the  enemy 
in  close  pursuit  across  the  field.  The 
British,  reaching  the  high  ground,  and 
being  covered  by  their  artillery,  now  ral 
ly,  and  again  charging  with  the  bayonet, 
drive  the  Americans  in  their  turn  back 
to  the  woods.  The  marksmen  once  more 
with  their  deadly  fire  compel  the  enemy 
to  flee,  and  again  pursue  them  to  the  cov 
er  of  their  encampment.  The  British 
rally  and  charge  as  before ;  and  thus  did 
"  the  battle  fluctuate,  like  waves  of  a 
strong  sea,  with  alternate  advantage,  for 
four  hours,  without  one  moment's  inter 
mission."  Gallantly  they  fought  on  both 
sides,  and  night  alone  ended  the  conflict. 
Neither  the  British  nor  the  Americans 
could  justly  claim  the  victory.  The  loss 
was  nearly  the  same,  amounting  to  more 
than  three  hundred  each ;  while  the  num 
ber  engaged  was  also  about  equal,  though 
some  have  stated  that  the  Americans  on 
ly  brought  twenty-five  hundred  into  the 
field  against  three  thousand  of  General 
Burgoy ne's  troops. 

In  the  course  of  the  struggle,  the  Amer 
icans  succeeded  in  gaining  possession  of 
some  of  the  British  artillery,  but  they  had 
to  fight  hard  for  it.  The  captain  and 
thirty-six  men,  out  of  a  company  of  forty- 
eight,  were  struck  down  before  their  gun 
could  be  taken,  so  manfully  did  they  cling 
to  their  piece.  The  cannon  taken,  how 
ever,  for  want  of  horses  to  bring  them 
off,  were  left  upon  the  field,  and  conse- 


542 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[TART  n. 


quently  again  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy. 

General  Burgoyne  claimed  the  victory, 
as  appeared  by  some  letters  found  in  the 
pouch  of  an  Indian,  who  was  shot  dead 
by  one  of  the  American  scouts  on  the 
lookout  throughout  the  whole  country 
around  for  British  spies  and  messengers. 
The  letters  were  writ: en  by  Burgoyne  to 
Sir  Guy  Carleton,  in  Canada.  In  one  he 
wrote :  "  I  take  the  first  opportunity  to 
inform  you  we  have  had  a  smart  and  very 
honorable  action,  and  are  now  encamped 
in  the  front  of  the  field,  which  must  de 
monstrate  our  victory  beyond  the  power 
of  even  (in  American  newspaper  writer 
to  explain  away."  In  another  letter  he 
declared :  "  We  found  live  hundred  of 
their  [the  Americans']  bodies  the  morn 
ing  after." 

There  were  two  women  of  rank  in  the 
British  camp,  wThose  noble  devotion  to 
their  husbands  and  spirited  endurance  of 
the  trials  of  affection  and  fortitude  to 
which  they  were  exposed  in  the  course 
of  the  terrors  and  horrors  of  actual  war, 
have  given  a  romantic  interest  to  Bur- 
goyne's  campaign.  No  historian  has  failed 
to  record  the  remarkable  adventures  of 
the  baroness  Reidesel  and  Lady  Harriet 
Ackland.  The  former  has,  in  her  own 
natural  narrative,  left  the  best  history  of 
her  sad  experience  in  America. 

The  baroness  Reidesel  was  the  wife  of 
the  Hessian  general  in  command  of  the 
Germans.  Lady  Harriet  Ackland  was  the 
sister  of  the  earl  of  Ilchester.  arid  the 
wife  of  Major  Ackland,  of  the  grenadiers. 
They  had  accompanied  their  husbands  to 
Quebec,  where  they  were  urged  to  remain 


during  the  campaign.  Lady  Ackland. 
however,  having  heard  that  the  major 
had  received  a  wound  in  the  affair  at 
Hubbardton,  she  hurried  to  join  him  in 
spite  of  the  risks  and  trials  of  the  jour 
ney.  She  could  not  be  prevailed  upon 
afterward  to  leave  him,  and  accompanied 
the  army  during  the  dreary  and  tedious 
march  to  Fort  Edward.  Here  the  tent 
in  which  she  lodged  took  fire,  and  she 
barely  escaped  with  her  life.  She  still 
resolutely  persevered  in  clinging  to  her 
husband,  and  followed  each  advance  of 
the  British  army,  driving  in  "  a  small,  two- 
wheeled  tumbril,  drawn  by  a  single  horse, 
over  roads  almost  impassable.":i: 

The  baroness  Reidesel,  equally  devo 
ted,  followed  her  husband  also.  "I  or 
dered,"  she  writes,  "  a  large  calash  to  be 
built,  capable  of  holding  my  three  chil 
dren,  myself,  and  two  female-servants  ;  in 
this  manner  we  moved  with  the  army  in 
the  midst  of  the  soldiery,  who  were  very 
merry,  singing  songs  and  panting  for  ac 
tion."  She  thus  followed  the  army,  gen 
erally  remaining  about  an  hour's  march 
in  the  rear,  where  she  received  daily  vis 
its  from  her  husband  the  baron.  When 
Burgoyne  encamped  opposite  to  Gates, 
Major  Williams  of  the  artillery  proposed, 
as  the  frequent  change  of  quarters  was  in 
convenient,  to  have  a  house  built  for  her, 
"with  a  chimney,"  quite  an  unusual  lux 
ury  in  that  hard  campaign.  As  it  would 
cost  "only  five  or  six  guineas"  —  some 
twenty-five  dollars  —  the  baroness  con 
sented,  and  the  dwelling  was  constructed, 
and  named  "  The  Blockhouse,"  from  its 
square  form,  and  the  resemblance  which 

*  Thucher. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  BARONESS  REIDESEL  AND  LADY  ACKLAND. 


543 


it  bore  to  buildings  so  called,  erected  for 
purposes  of  defence. 

On  the  bloody  day  of  the  19th  of  Sep 
tember,  however,  the  "Blockhouse"  was 
abandoned ;  and  the  baroness  Reidesel, 
together  with  Lady  Ackland  and  the  wives 
of  Major  Ilamage  and  Lieutenant  Rey- 
nell,  being  advised  to  follow  the  route  of 
the  artillery,  took  refuge,  when  the  en 
gagement  commenced,  in  a  small  hut  near 
Freeman's  farm,  the  ladies  retiring  into 
the  cellar  as  the  danger  increased. 

"  I  was  an  eye-witness,"  says  the  bar 
oness,  "  to  the  whole  affair ;  and  as  my 


husband  was  engaged  in  it,  I  was  full  of 
anxiety,  and  troubled  at  every  shot  I 
heard.  I  saw  a  great  number  of  the 
wounded,  and,  what  added  to  the  distress 
of  the  scene,  three  of  them  were  brought 
into  the  house  in  which  I  took  shelter." 
One  was  Major  Harnage,  who  was  very 
badly  wounded ;  and,  soon  after,  word 
came  that  Lieutenant  Reynell  was  shot 
dead !  The  wives  of  both  were  in  the 
hut,  with  the  baroness  Reidesel  and  Lady 
Ackland.  "  Imagination  wants  no  help," 
wrote  Burgoyne,  "  to  figure  the  state  of 
the  whole  group." 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

A  Gloomy  Morning. — Gayly  to  Arms  ! — Anxious  Expectation. — Attack  postponed. — Another  Delay. — News  from  oir 
Henry  Clinton. — General  Burgoyne's  Only  Hope. — The  Treacherous  Iroquois. — Nothing  more  from  Sir  Henry. — Im 
patience  of  Burgoyne. — Fortifies. — No  Sleep. — The  Provincials  in  High  Spirits. — Trouble  in  the  American  Camp  — 
Generals  Arnold  and  Gates. — Their  Quarrel. — Arnold  resigns. — A  Second,  Sober  Thought — Arnold  without  Com 
mand. — Blustering  ahout  the  Camp. 


1777, 


THE  morning  after  the  battle  of 
Bemis's  heights  opened  dull  and 
gloomy.  A  thick  mist  rose  from  the  river, 
and,  overspreading  plain  and  forest,  hung 
in  heavy  folds  about  the  sides 
of  the  hills.  The  dead  and  the 
wounded  had  been  gathered  during  the 
night  from  the  field  of  battle.  Sufferers 
were  groaning  with  pain  in  tent  and  hos 
pital  ;  mourners  were  weeping  over  the 
fresh  graves  of  their  buried  comrades ; 
surgeons  with  probe  and  knife  were  busy 
at  their  bloody  but  merciful  work;  and 
priests  were  uttering  the  solemn  words 
:>f  prayer.  Yet,  amid  the  gloom  of  Na 


ture,  the  groans  of  the  dying,  and  the 
mourning  for  the  dead,  the  drums  beat 
gayly  to  arms  in  the  British  camp,  and 
soldiers  were  briskly  stepping  into  the 
ranks. 

The  thick  fog  hid  the  two  armies  from 
each  other,  but  both  were  ready  to  renew 
the  bloody  struggle  of  yesterday.  A  de 
serter  came  into  the  American  camp,  his 
mouth  all  smutched  with  the  biting  of 
cartridges.  He  had  been,  he  said,  in  the 
whole  of  the  action  of  the  previous  day. 
The  night  was  spent  in  removing  the 
wounded  and  the  women  to  the  encamp 
ment  and  hospital  tents  near  the  river. 


544 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


Fresh  ammunition  bad  been  served  out 
to  the  troops ;  his  own  cartridge-box  was 
now  crammed  with  sixty  rounds  ;  and  he 
declared  that  when  he  left  the  British 
ranks,  only  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before, 
the  whole  of  the  enemy's  force  was  un 
der  arms,  and  orders  had  been  given  to 
attack  the  American  lines.  In  ten  min 
utes  more,  he  added,  Burgoyne  would 
march. 

Trusting  to  this  report,  General  Gates 
ordered  his  lines  to  be  manned  immedi 
ately  ;  and  he  and  his  officers  exhorted 
the  troops  to  show  themselves, in  the  com 
ing  conflict,  wrorthy  of  the  cause  for  which 
they  fought.  The  men,  though  wearied 
with  a  struggle  which  had  lasted  until 
night  of  the  previous  day,  readily  obeyed 
the  summons  for  another  day's  work ;  and 
eagerly,  as  they  stood  in  rank,  strove  to 
pierce  with  their  straining  eyes  the  thick 
mist,  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  approach 
ing  enemy. 

Gates,  however,  did  not  share  in  the 
enthusiasm  of  his  troops.  Each  minute, 
as  it  passed,  was  one  of  anxious  solicitude. 
He  was  ill  prepared  that  day  (as  he  and 
some  of  his  officers  only  knew)  to  meet 
the  enemy.  His  ammunition  was  nearly 
exhausted,  and  he  was  anxiously  awaiting 
a  supply  from  Albany. 

An  hour  of  excited  expectation  and 
anxious  suspense  passed,  during  which 
hope  and  fear  played  with  the  imagina 
tion.  Some  thought  they  could  hear  the 
movement  of  the  enemy,  and  others  that 
through  the  floating  mist  they  could  catch 
a  sight  of  the  advancing  British  troops. 
The  sun,  now  dispersing  the  vapor,  shone 
out  —  not  flashing  upon  the  arms  of  a 


threatening  enemy,  but  only  revealing  in 
its  bright  reflection  the  sparkling  surface 
of  the  Hudson,  and  the  verdure  of  the 
forest,  still  freshly  green  in  the  early  au 
tumn,  upon  hill  and  plain.  Gates  now 
gladly  dismissed  the  troops. 

Burgoyne  had  drawn  up  his  arm}',  and 
was  about  ordering  it  to  march  to  the  at 
tack,  when  General  Fraser  (whose  ability 
and  dauntless  courage  had  gained  for  him 
great  and  well-deserved  influence  with 
his  commander)  besought  him  to  post 
pone  the  assault,  as  the  grenadiers  and 
light-infantry,  who  wrere  to  take  the  lead, 
seemed  wearied  by  the  hard  work  of  the 
day  before.  Burgoyne  accordingly  or 
dered  his  troops  back  to  camp,  and  de 
termined  to  postpone  the  attack  until  the 
next  morning. 

Burgoyne's  design  was,  howrever,  again 
put  off!  His  anxious  desire  to  hear  from 
New  York  was  now  gratified.  In  the  mid 
dle  of  the  night  a  spy  entered 
his  camp,  with  a  letter  in  cipher 
from  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in  which  that 
general  stated  that  he  was  about  making 
an  attack  upon  the  forts  on  the  North 
river. 

The  American  srouts  were  everywhere 
so  much  on  the  alert,  that  the  ingenuity 
of  the  British  commanders  was  greatly 
taxed  to  keep  up  a  communication.  Let 
ters  were  often  copied  in  duplicate,  and 
even  in  triplicate;  and,  although  each  was 
sent  by  a  separate  messenger,  it  was  sel 
dom  that  either  arrived.  Burgoyne  now 
heard  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  for  the 
first  time.  Greatly  disappointed  as  he 
was  to  find  that  General  Howe  with  his 
whole  force  was  not  coming  to  Albany, 


Sept,  21, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


HOPES  AND  FEARS  OF  BURGOYNE. 


545 


to  co-operate  with  him,  as  he  had  been 
led  to  expect  when  the  plan  of  the  cam 
paign  was  laid  down  by  the  English  gov 
ernment,  he  was  still  encouraged  by  the 
mere  show  of  an  advance  of  a  British 
force,  however  small,  from  New  York.  In 
answer  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  Burgoyne 
wrote  :  "  An  attack,  or  the  menace  of  an 
attack,  upon  Montgomery  [the  fort  of 
that  name  on  the  North  river],  must  be 
of  great  use,  as  it  will  draw  away  a  part 
of  this  force,  and  I  will  follow  them  close. 
Do  it,  my  dear  friend,  directly." 

He  now  determined  to  wait  a  few  days, 
in  order  to  give  Sir  Henry  Clinton  an  op 
portunity  to  begin  operations,  before  ma 
king  his  attack.  His  provisions  could  not 
last  beyond  the  20th  of  October ;  and,  as 
his  communication  with  Canada  wras  so 
completely  cut  off,  that  he  could  not  re 
ceive  a  man  or  a  biscuit  from  that  quar 
ter,  his  only  hope  was,  with  the  aid  of 
General  Clinton,  to  be  able  soon  to  move 
forward.  He  could  wait  until  the  12th, 
he  declared,  and  no  longer. 

Colonel  St.  Leger  had  succeeded,  after 
his  flight  from  Fort  Schuyler,  in  making 
his  way  back  to  Ticonderoga  with  a  mea 
ger  remnant  of  troops,  and  would  have 
joined  Burgoyne  had  he  been  able  to 
reach  him.  Colonel  Brown  was  in  his 
way  with  a  detachment  of  General  Lin 
coln's  New-Hampshire  troops,  which,  af 
ter  retiring  from  an  unsuccessful  attempt 
upon  Fort  Diamond,  was  now  hanging  in 
the  rear  of  the  British  encampment,  and 
completely  cutting  it  off  from  all  commu 
nication  with  the  north. 

Burgoy ne's  Indians,  too,  had  suffered 
so  terribly  from  Morgan's  sharpshooters, 
Gi) 


and  their  propensities  for  scalping  and 
plundering  been  so  checked  by  the  hu 
mane  restrictions  of  the  British  command 
er,  that  they  lost  all  inducement  to  serve, 
and  could  no  longer  be  prevailed  upon 
to  remain.  A  band  of  Iroquois,  amount 
ing  to  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty, 
treacherously  transferred  their  uncertain 
fealty  to  what  they  believed  to  be  the 
stronger  side,  that  of  Gates.  The  Cana 
dians  and  American  loyalists  likewise  lost 
heart,  and  deserted  in  numbers.  General 
Burgoyne,  however,  was  still  firm ;  and 
his  regulars  shared  in  the  resolute  spirit 
of  their  undaunted  commander,  who  de 
clared  to  his  men  that  he  would  either 
force  his  way  to  Albany  or  leave  his  bones 
on  the  field  of  battle.  Burgoyne  heard 
nothing  more  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  but 
cheered  himself  and  his  army  with  the 
hope  that  intelligence  would  soon  arrive 
of  a  successful  result  to  the  promised  ef 
forts  at  co-operation  from  New  York. 

While  Burgoyne  was  awaiting  news 
from  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  he  began  to  for 
tify  his  encampment.  He  raised  breast 
works  on  the  flats  by  the  river  to  his  left, 
on  the  plain  at  his  centre,  and  up  the  ac 
clivity  of  the  hills  on  his  right,  strength 
ened  here  and  there  by  abaltis  of  heaped- 
up  rails  and  by  redoubts.  His  men  were 
kept  constantly  at  work,  and  on  the  alert. 
"  From  the  20th  of  September  to  the  7th 
of  October,"  wrote  Burgoyne,  in  his  nar 
rative  of  the  expedition,  "  the  armies  were 
so  near,  that  not  a  night  passed  without 
firing,  and  sometimes  concerted  attacks 
upon  our  advanced  pickets.  I  do  not  be 
lieve  either  officer  or  soldier  ever  slept 
in  that  interval  without  his  clothes;  or 


54G 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAHT    II. 


that  any  general  officer  or  commander  of 
a  regiment  passed  a  single  night  without 
being  upon  his  legs  occasionally  at  differ 
ent  hours,  and  constantly  an  hour  before 
daylight." 

Gates  and  his  army,  although  equally 
on  the  alert,  had  less  labor  and  anxiety. 
Their  defensive  works  had  already  been 
raised,  and  nothing  was  now  left  but  to 
strengthen  them  here  and  there.  The 
Americans  were  in  high  spirits ;  for,  al 
though  they  did  not  claim  the  victory  on 
the  19th  of  September,  they  had  been 
able,  with  equal  if  not  with  fewer  num 
bers,  to  fight  a  drawn  battle  with  the 
choicest  of  the  British  troops,  and  were 
thus  encouraged  to  further  effort.  Rein 
forcements,  too,  came  thronging  in  :  Gen 
eral  Lincoln  had  arrived,  with  two  thou 
sand  New-Hampshire  men  ;  and  the  mili 
tia  offered  themselves  freely  from  the  sur 
rounding  country,  which  was  now  inspir 
ited  by  the  perils  threatening  Burgoyne, 
and  the  triumphs  awaiting  Gates.  Sup 
plies  also  of  food  and  ammunition  were 
daily  brought  into  the  American  camp  in 
great  abundance,  while  the  scanty  rations 
of  Burgoyne's  soldiers  were  rapidly  di 
minishing. 

There  was,  however,  trouble  brewing 
111  the  American  camp.  The  impetuous 
Arnold,  never  very  submissive,  had  been 
vexed  into  a  great  rage  by  the  somewhat 
arbitrary  conduct  of  General  Gates.  On 
the  opening  of  the  battle  of  the  19th,  Ar 
nold  had  repeatedly  and  urgently  sent  to 
the  general-in-chief  for  reinforcements  be 
fore  his  demand  was  complied  with,  and 
he  attributed  the  delay  to  an  envious  spir 
it  on  the  part  of  Gates.  The  next  day, 


Arnold    importunately    insisted 


Sept,  20, 


upon  Gates  giving  battle  to  the 
enemy ;  but  his  advice,  very  intrusively 
and  persistently  urged,  was  finally  reject 
ed,  although  the  reason  was  left  unex 
plained.  Gates's  reason  was  a  good  one 
(his  supply  of  ammunition  having  given 
out),  but  he  did  not  deign  to  state  it  — 
leaving  Arnold  to  put  his  own  construc 
tion  upon  his  motives.  The  latter  attrib 
uted  it  to  envy,  and  gave  vent  to  his  feel 
ings  of  indignation.  "I  have  lately  ob 
served,"  he  wrote  to  Gates,  "little  or  no 
attention  paid  to  any  proposals  I  have 
thought  it  my  duty  to  make  for  the  pub 
lic  service ;  and  when  a  measure  I  have 
proposed  has  been  agreed  to,- it  has  been 
immediately  contradicted.  I  have  been 
received  with  the  greatest  coolness  at 
headquarters,  and  often  huffed  in  such  a 
manner  as  must  mortify  a  person  with 
less  pride  than  I  have,  and  in  my  station 
in  the  army." 

Arnold  began  to  talk  freely  in  camp  of 
Gates's  opposition  to  him,  and  succeeded 
in  gaining  the  sympathy  of  some  of  the 
officers,  among  whom  there  were  those 
who  were  attached  to  General  Schuyler, 
and  were  indignant  that  he  should  have 
been  superseded.  He  was  thus  encour 
aged  in  the  indulgence  of  his  spirit  of  in 
subordination.  General  Wilkinson,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  at  that  time  a  great  par 
tisan  of  Gates  ;  and,  being  unfriendly  tow 
ard  Arnold,he  lost  no  opportunity  of  grat 
ifying  the  one  and  vexing  the  other.  He 

«/          O  o 

accordingly,  with  apparently  no  better 
motive  than  piquing  Arnold,  induced  the 
commander-in-chief  to  issue  the  following 

o 

order:  "Colonel  Morgan's  corps,  not  be- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         QUARREL  BETWEEN  GATES  AND  ARNOLD. 


547 


ing  attached  to  any  brigade  or  division 
of  the  army,  he  is  to  make  returns  and  re 
ports  to  headquarters  only,  from  whence 
alone  he  is  to  receive  orders." 

This  greatly  angered  Arnold,  for  he 
declared  it  was  notorious  to  the  whole 
army  that  Colonel  Morgan's  corps  had 
done  duty  "for  some  time  past"  with  his 
division.  He  hastened  to  headquarters, 
and,  confronting  the  conimander-in-chief, 
"  asserted  his  pretensions  to  the  command 
of  the  elite,  and  was  ridiculed  by  General 
Gates.  High  words  and  gross  language 
ensued."*  In  the  course  of  this  interview, 
Gates  told  Arnold  that  he  did  not  know 
that  he  was  a  major-general,  or  had  any 
command  in  the  army !  Arnold  retired 
in  a  great  rage,  and  immediately  wrote  a 
letter  to  Gates,  in  which  he  said :  "  As  I 
iind  your  observation  very  just,  that  I  am 
not  or  that  you  wish  me  of  little  conse 
quence  in  the  army,  and  as  I  have  the  in 
terest  and  safety  of  my  country  at  heart, 
I  wish  to  be  where  I  can  be  of  most  ser 
vice  to  her.  I  therefore,  as  General  Lin 
coln  is  arrived,  have  to  request  your  pass 
to  Philadelphia,  with  my  two  aids-de-camp 
and  their  servants,  where  I  propose  to  join 
General  Washington ;  and  may  possibly 

*  Wilkinson. 


have  it  in  my  power  to  serve  my  coun 
try,  although  I  am  thought  of  no  conse 
quence  in  this  department." 

Gates  was  well  pleased  thus  easily  to 
get  rid  of  one  who,  by  his  brilliant  talents 
and  his  dashing  courage  as  a  soldier,  was 
likely  to  throw  into  the  shade  the  more 
sober  qualities  of  his  superior.  The  pass 
was  immediately  written  and  sent  to  Ar 
nold,  in  accordance  with  his  request.  Sev 
eral  formal  notes  subsequently  passed  be 
tween  them,  mutually  recriminatory ;  but 
Arnold  still  lingered  in  camp,  and  finally 
wrote  to  Gates,  saying,  "  I  am  determined 
to  sacrifice  my  feelings,  present  peace, 
and  quiet,  to  the  public  good,  and  con 
tinue  in  the  army  at  this  critical  junc 
ture,  when  my  country  needs  every  sup 
port." 

Arnold,  therefore,  remained  without  a 
command,  Gates  himself  having  taken  his 
division  on  the  left.  It  was,  however, 
freely  rumored  that  General  Lincoln  was 
to  assume  the  command,  which 
he  finally  did.  In  the  meantime, 
Arnold  blustered  about  the  camp,  and  de 
clared  that  it  would  be  death  to  any  offi 
cer  who  should  venture  to  interfere  with 
his  division  in  the  expected  battle.:i: 

*  Irving. 


Sept.  25. 


548 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


II. 


CHAPTER    LVIII. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  prepares  for  an  Expedition. — The  American  Forts  on  the  Hudson. — The  Patriotic  Clintons. — ijenerai 
Putnam  at  Peekskill. — Sir  Henry  Clinton  sails  up  the  River.—"  Old  Put"  astir. — Mistaken  Calculations. — Landing 
of  the  British. — Governor  George  Clinton  at  Fort  Montgomery. — A  Traitorous  Messenger. — Sir  Henry  Clinton  lands 
at  Stony  Point. — The  Plan  of  Attack. — An  Unexpected  Resistance. — Hard  but  Unsuccessful  Struggle  of  the  Ameri 
cans. — Demands  for  Surrender. — The  Refusal. — Desperate  Assault. — The  Americans  overpowered. — Escape  of  the 
Clintons. — The  Loss  on  Both  Sides. — Count  Gabrowski. — Died  like  a  Soldier. — Burning  of  the  American  Vessels. — 
A  Sublime  Scene. — Booms  and  Chevaux-de-Frise  all  gone. — The  Victorious  Advance  of  the  British. — The  Clintons 
rallying  again. — A  Spy,  and  the  Effects  of  Tartar-Emetic. — Sir  Henry's  Letter  from  Fort  Montgomery. — Esopus  in 
Ruins. — Old  Put  discouraged. 


1777, 


ALTHOUGH  General  Bnrgoyne  was 
ignorant  of  the  movements  of  Sir 

o 

Henry  Clinton,  that  spirited  officer  was 
losino-  no  time  in  doing  all  and  even  more 

O  O 

than  he  had  promised.  The  reinforce 
ment  from  England  of  two  thousand  men, 
under  General  Robertson,  having  been 
"  shipped  in  Dutch  bottoms,"  did  not  ar 
rive  at  New  York  until  the  end  of  Sep 
tember,  after  a  protracted  voyage  of  three 
months.  On  their  arrival,  Sir  Henry  was 
ready  to  set  out  on  his  expedition  up  the 
North  river.  He  had  already  prepared 
everything  in  advance.  A  fleet  of  trans 
ports  and  flat-bottomed  boats  had  been 
anchored  off  the  upper  end  of  the  island 
of  New  York  ;  troops  had  been  gathered 
together  at  Kingsbridge  •  a  supply  of 
hard  bread  had  been  baked  ;  and  as  soon 
as  General  Robertson  and  his  troops  land 
ed  to  garrison  New  York  in  his  absence, 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  embarked  three  thou 
sand  men  and  sailed  up  the  Hudson. 

General  Putnam  was  still  at  Peekskill 
—  with  a  force,  however,  reduced  to  the 
small  number  of  twelve  hundred  conti 
nental  troops  and  three  hundred  militia, 


in  consequence  of  the  drafts  made  upon 
him  by  Washington  to  reinforce  the  army 
in  Pennsylvania.  The  forts,  too,  on  the 
river  were  but  feebly  garrisoned.  Fort 
Independence,  on  the  east  side  of  the 
Hudson,  was  near  Putnam's  post  at  Peeks- 
kill  ;  but  he  could  spare  only  a  few  men 
from  his  meager  force  to  defend  it.  Forts 
Clinton  and  Montgomery,  on  the  west 
side  and  above,  were  manned  by  not  more 
than  six  hundred  militia,  divided  between 
the  two.  George  Clinton,  the  governor 
of  New  York,  commanded  Fort  Montgom 
ery,  while  his  brother  had  charge  of  Fort 
Clinton,  which  was  situated  a  hundred 
yards  or  so  to  the  south,  and  separated 
from  the  northern  fort  by  a  deep  inlet 
from  the  Hudson,  called  "  Peplopenkill." 
From  a  short  distance  above  the  kill  to 
Anthony's  Nose,  opposite,  were  stretched 
a  chevaux-de-frise,  a  boom,  and  a  huge  iron 
chain,  which,  with  the  armed  gallej^s,  the 
two  frigates  anchored  above,  and  the  guns 
of  the  forts,  were  supposed  to  be  an  effect 
ual  obstacle  to  the  ascent  of  the  river. 

General  Putnam,  at  Peekskill,  was  on 
the  alert.     He  had  received  information 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SIR  HENRY  CLINTON  UP  THE  HUDSON. 


549 


of  the  arrival  of  British  reinforcements 
at  New  York,  and  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton's 
preparations  for  his  expedition.  The  de 
signs  of  the  enemy  he  supposed  to  be 
either  '"against  the  posts  of  the  High 
lands.,  or  some  part  of  the  counties  of 
Westchester  or  Dutchess."  He  had  sent 
due  notice  to  Governor  Clinton,  who  was 
absent  at  the  time  from  his  military  post, 
and  engaged  in  the  performance  of  his 
civil  functions  elsewhere.  The  governor 
immediately  returned  to  Fort  Montgom 
ery,  having  first  ordered  out  the  militia 
of  the  state  of  New  York. 

The  farmers,  as  it  was  nearly  seedtime, 
and  they  had  not  yet  sown  their  grain, 
did  not  muster  very  readily  at  the  call 
of  the  governor.  A  considerable  force 
was,  however,  finally  gathered  ;  part  of 
which  was  stationed  at  the  forts,  and  the 
rest  sent  to  Peekskill.  But  the  men  be 
came  "  extremely  restless  and  uneasy  ;" 
and  General  Putnam,  who  in  his  old  age 
was  becoming  quite  the  reverse,  gave  ear 
to  the  grumblings  of  the  discontented 
yeomen,  and  allowed  them  to  return  to 
their  fields.  The  governor,  however,  who 
was  disposed  to  be  more  exacting,  called 
one  half  of  them  back  again,  with  the  un 
derstanding  that,  after  they  had  served  a 
month,  they  should  be  dismissed,  and  the 
other  half  called  in  to  take  their  places. 
While  this  plan  was  being  carried  into 
effect,  there  was  so  much  delay  in  set 
tling  who  should  serve  first  and  who  last, 
that  neither  got  ready  in  time  to  be  of 
service  in  the  approaching  emergency. 

The  wind  having  been  unfavorable,  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  was  detained  till  the  night 
of  Saturday  the  4th  of  October,  when, 


with  a  fair  breeze,  the  fleet,  under  the 
command  of  Commodore  Holtham,  stood 
up  the  river.  In  advance  sailed  two  men- 
of-war,  three  tenders,  and  a  large  flotilla 
of  flat-bottomed  boats.  Soon  after  fol 
lowed  a  frigate,  five  square-rigged  vessels, 
and  a  number  of  small  craft.  Putnam 
was  on  the  watch  at  Peekskill,  and,  hav 
ing  stationed  guard-boats  along  the  river, 
soon  heard  of  the  enemy's  approach.  His 
next  intelligence  was,  that  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  had  landed  at  Tarrytown,  some 
thirty  miles  from  New  York.  This  being 
on  the  same  side  of  the  river,  and  below 
Peekskill,  "  Old  Put"  quite  made  up  his 
mind  that  his  post  was  Clinton's  object, 
and  he  accordingly  sent  off  parties  to 
harass  him,  "  if  prudent,"  on  his  march. 

Sir  Henry,  however,  at  that  moment 
had  no  designs  upon  Peekskill,  and  had 
merely  landed  at  Tarrytown  in  order  to 
divert  Putnam  from  his  real  purpose.  He 
accordingly,  after  marching  his  men  five 
miles  into  the  country ,marched  them  back 
again,  re-embarked  them  on  board  his  ves 
sels,  and  sailed  farther  up  the  river.  Clin 
ton,  still  bent  upon  concealing  his  object 
from  Putnam,  proceeded  up  the  Hudson 
as  far  as  Verplanck's  Point,  on  the  east 
side,  where  he  again  landed  with  a  con 
siderable  force,  only  eight  miles  below 
Peekskill.  Putnam  was  now  still  more 
confident  that  his  post  and  Fort  Indepen 
dence  were  threatened ;  and  while  con 
sulting  with  General  Parsons,  and  cau 
tiously  reconnoitring  the  supposed  posi 
tion  of  the  maiii  body  of  the  British,  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  taking  advantage  of  a  fog 
gy  morning,  crossed  over  next  day  at  an 
early  hour  from  Verplanck's  Point,  with 


550 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


two  of  his  three  thousand  men,  to  Stony 
Point  opposite,  and  marched  for  Forts 
Clinton  and  Montgomery. 

Putnam's  scouts  brought  in  word  that 
some  of  the  enemy  had  landed  on  the 
west  side  of  the  river,  where  a  building 
had  been  set  on  fire  ;  but  it  was  supposed 
that  those  who  had  crossed  composed  only 
a  small  force,  whose  object  was  to  burn 
the  storehouses  at  Stony  Point,  and  that 
the  principal  body  still  remained  at  Ver- 
planck's  Point.  Putnam  was  not  unde 
ceived  until  he  heard  "  a  very  heavy  and 
hot  firing,  both  of  small-arms  and  cannon, 
at  Fort  Montgomery,"  which  immediately 
convinced  him  that  the  British  had  gone 
over  in  the  morning  with  a  large  force. 
He  then,  at  this  late  moment,  detached 
five  hundred  men  to  reinforce  the  garri 
sons  at  Forts  Montgomery  and  Clinton. 
Before  they  could  cross  the  river,  howev 
er,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  as  we  shall  see,  had 
gained  his  object. 

Governor  Clinton,  at  Fort  Montgome 
ry,  was  aroused  to  the  danger  threatening 
the  forts  ;  and,  having  first  sent  a  messen 
ger  to  General  Putnam,  asking  for  a  rein 
forcement,  he  ordered  out  Major  Logan, 
an  alert  officer,  well  acquainted  with  the 
ground,  with  thirty  men,  to  reconnoitre 
and  gain  intelligence  of  the  enemy.  The 
major  did  not  return  until  nine  o'clock 
the  next  morning,  when  he  declared  that, 
from  the  sound  he  had  heard  of  the  row 
ing  of  boats,  he  believed  that  the  British 
had  crossed  with  a  considerable  force,  but, 
as  the  morning  was  foggy,  it  had  been 
impossible  to  see  them  and  compute  their 
numbers.  The  governor,  on  hearing  this 
intelligence, despatched  Lieutenant  Jack 


son,  with  a  small  party,  to  watch  their 
movements,  and  anxiously  awaited  a  re 
sponse  to  his  message  to  General  Putnam 
asking  reinforcements.  These,  however, 
never  came  ;  for  the  messenger  proved  a 
traitor,  and  went  over  to  the  enemy. 

Sir  Henry,  on  landing  at  Stony  Point, 
left  a  strong  guard  there  to  secure  his 
communication  with  the  war-ships,  and 
marched  by  a  circuitous  route  toward  the 
forts,  which  were  in  a  direct  line,  about 
twelve  miles  distant.  While  the  trans 
ports  were  anchored  off  Stony  Point,  three 
of  the  British  men-of-war  (the  Tartar,  the 
Mercury,  and  the  Preston)  moved  a  short 
distance  up  the  river,  and  moored  near 
Fort  Independence,  in  order,  to  keep  the 
Americans  in  check  on  that  side  of  the 
Hudson,  and  prevent  Putnam  from  send 
ing  aid  to  the  garrisons  opposite. 

The  British,  guided  by  a  tory,  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  country,  proceeded 
through  a  narrow  and  rugged  defile  skirt 
ing  the  western  base  of  the  Dunderberg 
or  Thunder  mountain,  which  rises  with 
rocky  cliffs  abruptly  from  the  border  of 
the  Hudson.  On  reaching  a  ravine  at 
the  north,  between  Dunderberg  and  Bear 
hill,  Sir  Henry  Clinton  divided  his  force. 
One  division,  under  Lieutenant^Colonel 
Campbell,  was  ordered  to  proceed  to  Fort 
Montgomery,  while  Sir  Henry  himself  led 
the  other  against  Fort  Clinton.  With 
Campbell's  division  were  nine  hundred 
men,  some  of  whom  were  American  loy 
alists,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Bev 
erly  Robinson,  of  New  York;  some  Brit 
ish  grenadiers,  led  by  the  youthful  Lord 
Rawdon,  who  was  accompanied  by  his 
friend  Count  Gabrowski,  a  Pole  ;  and  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.  I         FORTS  CLINTON  AND  MONTGOMERY  STORMED. 


551 


rest  of  the  force  was  composed  of  Hes 
sians. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell  was  or 
dered  to  make  a  circuitous  march  to  the 
west  around  Bear  hill,  and  the  rear  of 
Fort  Montgomery,  which  he  was  directed 
to  attack  when  Sir  Henry  himself  was  pre 
pared  to  begin  upon  Fort  Clinton,  toward 
which  he  now  led  his  division. 

Sir  Henry  had  but  a  small  distance  to 
march,  as  Fort  Clinton  was  the  nearer  of 
the  two  fortresses,  and  could  be  reached 
by  a  shorter  circuit.  While  Campbell's 
route  led  off  to  the  left  of  Bear  hill,  that 
of  Sir  Henry  Clinton  was  to  the  right, 
through  a  ravine,  and  thence  in  a  direct 
line  to  the  fort,  between  a  pond  called 
Sinipink  lake  and  the  river. 

Sir  Henry  advanced  cautiously,  though 
he  deluded  himself  with  the  hope  that 
his  movement  was  unsuspected.  He  soon 
had  reason  to  know  that  the  Americans 
were  on  the  alert;  for  his  advance-guard, 
on  reaching  Doodletown,  on  the  Haver- 
straw  road,  fell  in  with  Lieutenant  Jack 
son  and  his  scouting-party,  who  had  been 
sent  out  to  reconnoitre.  The  British  fired 
as  Jackson  came  up,  who,  after  giving 
them  a  volley  in  return,  was  forced  to  re 
treat  with  his  handful  of  men. 

The  firing  was  heard  at  Fort  Clinton, 
and  General  James  Clinton,  who  was  in 
command  there,  immediately  despatched 
fifty  continental  troops,  under  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Bruyn,  and  the  same  num 
ber  of  militia,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel 
M'Claughrey,  to  meet  Sir  Henry  and  op 
pose  his  approach.  They  soon  became 
engaged  in  a  hot  struggle,  but  the  Brit 
ish  were  too  numerous  for  them,  and  they 


fell  back  —  disputing  the  rough  ground, 
however,  inch  by  inch,  to  the  walls  of  the 
fort, 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell's  march 
to  Fort  Montgomery,  through  the  defile 
on  the  west  side  of  Bear  hill,  was  no  less 
disputed  than  Sir  Henry's  advance  to  Fort 
Clinton.  Colonel  Lamb  (he  who  had  so 
gallantly  served  his  battery  at  Quebec, 
under  Arnold)  had  been  sent  out  with  a 
covering-party  of  sixty  men  from  the  fort, 
to  plant  a  fieldpiece  in  an  advantageous 
position,cornmanding  the  narrow  and  rug 
ged  path  through  which  the  enemy  would 
be  obliged  to  advance.  A  second  detach 
ment  of  sixty  were  also  ordered  to  follow 
Lamb  and  sustain  him.  Campbell  came 
leading  on  his  men  at  a  quick  pace,  \vhen 
he  was  suddenly  brought  to  a  check  by 
a  discharge  of  grapeshot  from  Lamb's 
gun  and  a  well-directed  fire  of  musketry 
from  the  Americans  posted  on  the  high 
ground  on  a  border  of  the  defile. 

The  shock  was  so  severe,  that  the  whole 
British  force  was  driven  back,  and  at  each 
effort  to  push  forward  again  was  so  effect 
ually  checked,  that  Campbell  was  obliged 
to  withdraw  his  men.  He  now,  however, 
divided  his  troops,  and  filing  them  off'  by 
the  right  and  the  left  through  the  woods, 
attempted  to  surround  the  Americans, 
who,  seeing  his  purpose,  abandoned  their 
fieldpiece,  after  first  spiking  it  to  render 
it  useless  to  the  enemy,  and  then  retired. 
Governor  Clinton,  in  order  to  cover  their 
retreat  and  harass  the  foe,  ordered  out  a 
twelve-pounder,  which,  being  well  served 
with  grapeshot,  greatly  annoyed  the  Brit 
ish,  and  gave  the  Americans  an  opportu 
nity  of  reaching  the  fort  with  very  little 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


loss,  except  the  capture  of  Captain  Fen- 
no,  who  commanded  the  gun. 

It  was  now  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  the  enemy  continued  to 
push  on  toward  the  forts.  They  were, 
however,  so  checked  in  their  advance  by 
the  abattis  of  felled  trees  and  the  opposi 
tion  they  met,  that  they  were  not  ready 
to  begin  the  attack  till  nearly  five  o'clock. 
Lieutenant- Colonel  Campbell  now  ap 
proached  with  a  flag,  when  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Livingston  was  sent  out  to  meet 
him,  and  demand  his  rank  and  business. 
Campbell,  having  announced  who  he  was, 
said  that  he  came  to  demand  the  surren 
der  of  the  fort  in  five  minutes,  to  prevent 
the  further  effusion  of  blood  ;  and  he  de 
clared  that,  if  the  garrison  would  give 
themselves  up  as  prisoners-of-war,  they 
might  depend  upon  being  well  treated. 
Livingston  rejected  the  proposition  with 
scorn,  and  informed  Campbell  that  he 
might  begin  his  attack  as  soon  as  he 
pleased,  as  it  was  determined  to  defend 
the  forts  to  the  last  extremity. 

In  about  ten  minutes  the  enemy  at 
tacked  both  posts  with  desperate  ener«;v. 

o«/ 

They  met  with  spirited  resistance  on  the 
part  of  the  meager  garrisons  in  the  forts. 
The  numbers  of  the  assailants,  however, 
were  overwhelming.  With  fixed  bayo 
nets  they  came  rushing  against  the  forti 
fications,  nlounting  on  one  another's  shoul 
ders,  and  climbing  through  the  embra 
sures  by  the  sides  of  the  guns,  hot  with 
incessant  firing.  They  crowded  in  upon 
the  ramparts,  but  the  brave  garrison  still 
resisted,  fighting  desperately  in  a  hand- 
to-hand  struggle.  Seeing  themselves, how 
ever,  surrounded  on  all  sides,  and  night 


coming  on,  the  Americans  found  it  use 
less  to  dispute  the  possession  any  longer. 
Most  wrere  obliged  to  throw  down  their 
arms  and  surrender;  but  others  fought 
their  way  through  the  enemy,  and  thus 
escaped.  Among  these  were  Governor 
Clinton  and  his  brother  James.  The  lat 
ter,  though  wounded  in  the  thigh,  slid 
down  a  precipice  one  hundred  feet  high, 
into  the  ravine  between  the  forts,  and  got 
off  through  the  woods.  His  brother,  the 
governor,let  himself  down  the  steep  rocks 
and  reached  the  river-side  just  as  a  boat 
was  pushing  off  with  a  number  of  other 
fugitives.  They  pulled  back  to  take  him 
in ;  but  as  the  boat  was  loaded  down  to 
the  gunwale,  he  declined  to-  go,  for  fear 
of  risking  their  safety.  They,  however, 
having  insisted,  and  declared  that  the  boat 
could  easily  hold  him,  he  was  induced  to 
get  in,  and  succeeded  in  crossing  the  Hud 
son  in  safety.  He  now  hastened  to  join 
General  Putnam.* 

The  loss  of  the  Americans  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners,  amounted  to  al 
most  three  hundred  ;  that  of  the  enemy, 
in  killed  and  wounded,  to  only  a  hundred 
and  forty.  The  British  loss  in  officers 
was,  as  usual,  disproportionately  large. 
Among  those  who  fell  were  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Campbell,  who  led  the  division 
against  Fort  Montgomery  ;  Major  Grant, 
of  the  New- York  loyalists  ;  Captain  Stew 
art,  of  the  grenadiers  ;  and  Major  Lile,  of 
the  sixty-third  regiment.  The  gallant 
count  Gabrowski  likewise  fell,  mortally 
wounded  by  three  balls.  He  had  ad 
vanced  to  the  storming  of  the  fort  by 
the  side  of  his  young  friend  Lord  Kaw- 

*  Irving. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         TUP:  BRITISH  TRIUMPHANT  ON  THE  HUDSON. 


553 


don  (afterward  the  marquis  of  Hastings), 
at  the  head  of  the  British  grenadiers.  As 
they  became  entangled  among  the  felled 
trees,  and  each  man  was  obliged  to  find 
a  path  for  himself,  Gabrowski  was  sepa 
rated  from  his  lordship,  when  he  received 
the  fatal  shot.  As  he  fell,  he  took  the 
sword  from  his  side,  and,  handing  it  to  a 
grenadier,  begged  him  to  deliver  it  to 
Lord  Kawdon,  and  tell  him  that  he  had 
died  like  a  soldier. 

It  was  dusk  when  the  struggle  ceased, 
and  dark  night  before  the  fall  of  the  forts 
became  known  to  those  on  board  the 
American  vessels  which  were  stationed 
above  the  chevaux-de-frise  across  the  river. 
As  they  feared  that  Admiral  Holtham — 
who,  during  the  contest  on  shore,  had 
moved  up,  and  while  cannonading  the 
forts  had  brought  his  ships  within  gun 
shot  of  the  American  frigates  and  galleys 
—  would  now  direct  his  attention  to  them, 
an  attempt  was  made  to  get  them  so  far 
above  the  chevaux-de-frise  as* to  be  out  of 
reach.  The  officers  accordingly  called 
all  hands  to  slip  the  cables,  hoist  sail,  and 
o-et  under  weigh.  The  vessels,  however, 

O  £3  ^  ' 

being  badly  manned,  the  tide  on  the  ebb, 
and  the  wind  having  died  away,  it  was 
found  impossible  to  manage  them.  The 
frigate  Montgomery,  which  was  nearest 
to  the  chain,  lost  her  headway  and  drift 
ed  down  so  close  t:,  the  enemy,  that  the 
captain  and  his  crew  were  forced  to  set 
lire  to  and  abandon  her.  The  other  frig 
ate,  the  Congress,  got  aground  near  Fort 
Constitution,  and  was  burnt,  as  were  also 
the  two  galleys  and  the  sloop. 

"  The  flames,"  says  Stedrnan,the  British 
annalist,  "  suddenly  broke  forth,  and,  as 
70 


Oct.  7, 


every  sail  was  set,  the  vessels  soon  be 
came  magnificent  pyramids  of  fire.  The 
reflection  on  the  steep  face  of  the  oppo 
site  mountain,  and  the  long  train  of  rud 
dy  light  which  shone  upon  the  water  for 
a  prodigious  distance,  had  a  wonderful 
effect;  while  the  ear  was  awfully  filled 
with  the  continued  echoes  from  the  rocky 
shores,  as  the  flames  gradually  reached 
the  loaded  cannons.  The  whole  was  sub 
limely  terminated  by  the  explosions,which 
left  all  a<rain  in  darkness." 

O 

The  next  day,  the  boom,  chain,  chev- 
aux-de-frise,  and  all,  which  had  cost  a  quar 
ter  of  a  million  of  dollars,  were 
destroyed  by  the  English  sailors ; 
and  a  flying  squadron  of  small  frigates, 
under  Sir  James  Wallace,  with  a  detach 
ment  of  British  troops  on  board,  com 
manded  by  General  Vaughan,  moved  tri 
umphantly  up  the  Hudson.  On  land,  Fort 
Constitution,  opposite  West  Point,  and 
Fort  Independence,  near  Peekskill,  were 
abandoned.  General  Vaughan  now  land 
ed  his  force  and  inarched  against  Esopus 
(now  Kingston),  and,  having  put  to  flight 
a  small  band  of  militia,  burnt  the  village 
to  the  ground,  together  with  a  large  sup 
ply  of  military  stores. 

General  Putnam,  after  the  fall  of  the 
forts,  retired  from  Peekskill,  and,  march 
ing  along  the  east  side  of  the  Hudson, 
posted  himself  in  a  defile  in  the  mount 
ains  near  Fishkill.  Governor  Clinton,  in 
the  meantime,  having  collected  two  con 
tinental  regiments  and  a  straggling  force 
of  militia,  moved  along  the  western  side 
of  the  river,  with  the  view  of  keeping  be 
tween  the  enemy  and  Albany,  where  he 
hoped  to  be  joined  by  General  Putnam, 


554 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II 


who  was  to  proceed  along  the  eastern 

bank. 

On  reaching  New  Windsor,  Governor 

Clinton's  advanced  guards  brought  in  a 

couple  of  British  spies,  on  their  way  from 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  to  General  Burgoyne. 

One  of  them,  as  soon  as  caught,  was  ob 
served  to  put  something  into  his 

Octi  9» 

mouth  and  swallow  it.     A  severe 

dose  of  tartar-emetic  was  at  once  admin 
istered,  which  brought  from  him  a  .small 
silver  bullet.  In  the  hollow  of  it  was 
found  this  letter:  — 

"  FORT  MONTGOMERY,  Oct.  8,  1777. 
"Nous  y  void,  and  nothing  between  us 
but  Gates.  I  sincerely  hope  this  little 
success  of  ours  may  facilitate  your  opera 
tions.  In  answer  to  your  letter  of  the 
20th  Sept.,  by  C.  C.,  I  shall  only  say  I  can 
not  presume  to  order  or  even  advise,  for 
reasons  obvious.  I  heartily  wish  you  suc 
cess.  Faithfully  yours, 

«H.  CLINTON." 

The  spy,  moreover,  confessed  that  Cap 
tain  Campbell,  who  had  brought  despatch 
es  from  General  Burgoyne,  wras  on  his  re 
turn,  with  the  news  of  the  fall  of  Forts 
Clinton  and  Montgomery.  He  started  on 
the  8th  of  October.  Governor  Clinton 


now  followed  close  upon  the  heels  of  Gen 
eral  Vaughan,  but  readied  Esopus  only 
in  time  to  find  it  in  ruins.  He  then,  af 
ter  hanging  the  British  spies  to  an  apple- 
tree,  moved  forward,  spiritedly  resolved 
to  do  his  best  to  frustrate  the  enemy  in 
their  endeavor  to  reach  Albany  before 
him. 

"  Old  Put"  was  evidently  very  much 
discouraged.  On  the  8th  of  October,  he 
wrote  to  General  Gates,  saying,  "  I  can 
not  flatter  you  or  myself  with  the  hopes 
of  preventing  the  enemy's  advancing ; 
therefore,  prepare  for  the  worst."  The 
next  day  his  words  are  still  less  cheerful : 
"  The  Connecticut  militia  came  in  yester 
day  and  the  day  before  in  great  numbers, 
but  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  already  begin 
to  run  away.  The  enemy  can  take  a  fair 
wind,  and,  with  their  flat-bottomed  boats, 
which  have  all  sails,  go  to  Albany  or  Half- 
Moon  with  great  expedition,  and  I  be 
lieve  without  opposition." 

In  the  meantime,  we  shall  see  that 
great  events  were  occuring  in  the  North, 
destined  to  change  the  relative  prospects 
which  seemed  so  dismal  for  the  Ameri 
cans  and  so  encouraging  to  the  British 
on  the  North  river.  Let  us  now  go  back 
to  the  hostile  camps  near  Saratoga. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         BURGOYNE'S  STRAITS.— ARNOLD  IMPATIEN1. 


555 


CHAPTER    LIX. 

Battle  of  Bemis's  Heights  continued. — The  Opposing  Armies. — General  Burgoyne  in  the  Dark. — His  Diminishing  Sup 
plies. — His  Impatience. — General  Gates  strong,  confident,  and  patient. — Arnold  in  a  Hurry. — "To  Arms!" — The 
Game  begun. — The  Order  of  Battle. — The  Conflict. — Fall  of  General  Eraser. — The  Tragic  Scene. — Stained  with 
British  Blood. — The  Wounded  Ackland. — The  Mad  Arnold. — He  is  down,  but  up  again. — The  Victory. 


1777- 


Sept,  19, 


THE  two  armies  of  Burgoyne  and 
Gates  remained  within  cannon-shot 
of  each  other ;  neither  having  yielded  an 
inch  of  ground  since  the  bloody  conflict 
of  Bemis's  heights.  Both  con 
tinued  busy  with  their  fortifica 
tions,  and  the  adjoining  forest  resounded 
from  mornino-  till  nio;ht  with  the  strokes 

O  o 

of  the  axe.  Burgoyne  was  waiting  anx 
iously  for  further  news  from  Sir  Henry 
Clinton.  It  was  now  the  7th  of  October, 
and  he  had  received  no  intelligence  since 
the  arrival  of  the  spy  in  his  camp  on  the 
night  of  the  20th  of  September.  He  knew 
nothing  of  Clinton's  success  on  the  North 
river — of  his  capture  of  the  forts  Mont 
gomery  and  Clinton  ;  of  the  advance  of 
the  British  fleet  up  the  Hudson ;  and  of 
the  unopposed  march  of  General  Vaughan, 
who  was  hastening  to  Albany,  to  bring 
hope  to  Burgoyne  of  a  junction,  and  of 
a  triumphant  result  to  his  eventful  cam 
paign. 

The  necessities,  however,  of  the  British 
commander,  made  him  impatient;  and, 
receiving  no  intelligence  from  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  he  could  wait  no  longer.  His 
provisions  were  so  rapidly  diminishing, 
that  he  had  been  already  obliged  to  re 
duce  the  rations  of  each  soldier  ;  and  now 


that  he  prepared  to  give  battle,  his  wants 
were  so  urgent,  that  he  was  about  stri 
king  a  blow  more  from  necessity  than 
from  policy. 

General  Gates,  on  the  other  hand,  with 
his  daily  increasing  strength,  and  the  con 
stantly  diminishing  resources  of  his  an 
tagonist,  was  not  disposed  to  hurry  into 
action,  and  put  to  the  hazard  of  a  battle 
the  certainties  of  a  position  which  were 
proving  so  fatal  to  his  adversary.  The 
impatient  Arnold,  in  the  meanwhile,  was 
striving  by  his  importunate  communica 
tions  to  provoke  him  to  engage  the  ene 
my :  "I  think  it  my  duty,"  he  wrote  to 
Gates,  "  (which  nothing  shall  deter  me 
from  doing)  to  acquaint  you  the  army 
.ire  clamorous  for  action."  The  general- 
in-chief,  however,  wisely  gave  no  heed  to 
Arnold's  advice,  which  was  intrusively 
urged  more  to  irritate  than  to  guide.  He 
prudently  waited  until  Burgoyne  should 
make  the  first  move.  He  did  not  wait 
long. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  7th  of  October, 
the  advanced  guard  of  the  American  cen 
tre  suddenly  beat  to  arms.  The  alarm 
at  once  ran  throughout  the  line,  and  the 
troops  hurried  to  their  posts.  General 
Gates,  who  was  at  his  headquarters,  ea- 


550 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[1'ART    11. 


srerlv  caught  at  the  sound  of  the  drums, 

o  */  O 

and  immediately  sent  off  Adjutant-Gen 
eral  Wilkinson  to  seek  out  the  cause. 
Wilkinson.,  mounting  his  horse,  galloped 
to  the  guard  which  had  first  struck  up 
the  alarm,  but  could  learn  nothing  more 
than  that  some  person  had  reported  that 
the  British  were  advancing  against  the 
American  left.  He  then  rode  forward  for 
some  distance  in  front,  and  as  he  reached 
the  rising  ground  he  saw  several  columns 
of  the  enemy  moving  into  a  field  of  stand 
ing  wheat  to  the  left,  about  half  a  mile 
from  the  line  of  the  American  encamp 
ment.  After  getting  into  the  field,  the 

O  {~f  ' 

British  troops  formed  a  double  line,  and 
the  soldiers  sat  down,  with  their  muskets 
between  their  knees,  while  the  foragers 
began  to  cut  the  wheat.  Some  of  their 
officers  in  the  meantime  had  mounted  a 
hut,  and  with  their  glasses  were  striving 
to  reconnoitre  the  American  left,  which 
was  almost  hid  from  their  view  by  the 
intervening  forests. 

Wilkinson  now  galloped  back  to  head 
quarters,  and  reported  to  Gates  what  he 
had  seen. 

"  What  do  they  seem  to  be  doing  ?" 
asked  the  general. 

"  They  are  foraging,  and  endeavoring 
to  reconnoitre  your  left;  and  I  think,  sir, 
they  oiler  you  battle." 

"  What  is  the  nature  of  the  ground,  and 
what  your  opinion  ?"  rejoined  Gates. 

'•  Their  front  is  open,  and  their  flanks 
rest  on  woods,  under  cover  of  which  they 
may  be  attacked  ;  their  right  is  skilled 
by  a  lofty  height,"  answered  Wilkinson. 
'•I  would  indulge  them,"  he  added. 

"  Well,  then,  order  on  Morgan  to  begin 


the  game,"  was  the  reply  ;  when  Wilkin 
son  immediately  galloped  off  to  do  as  he 
was  bidden. 

The  British  commander,  having  left 
Generals  Hamilton  and  Specht  to  guard 
his  line  on  the  plain,  and  General  Gall 
the  fortifications  on  the  flats  bordering 
the  Hudson  river,  had  advanced  with  fif 
teen  hundred  men, under  the  several  com 
mands  of  Generals  Fraser,  Phillips,  and 
De  Reidesel,  and  ten  pieces  of  artillery, 
to  the  right  of  his  encampment,  and  about 
half  a  mile  beyond  the  American  left. 
Burgoyne  was  now  stationed  where  Wil 
kinson  had  observed  him,  in  the  wheat- 
field.  The  foragers  having  supplied  them 
selves,  and  Burgoyne  having  sent  forward 
a  party  of  Canadians  and  Indians,  began 
to  deploy  his  troops  into  line.  In  his 
centre  were  placed  some  British  and  Ger 
man  regiments,  under  Phillips  and  De 
Reidesel;  on  his  left  the  grenadiers  and 
artillery,  under  Majors  Ackland  and  Wil 
liams,  bordering  a  wrood  and  a  small  ra 
vine,  through  which  flowed  a  rivulet;  on 
his  extreme  right  was  Lord  Balcarras, 
with  the  English  light-infantry,  and  five 
hundred  men  in  advance  led  by  General 
Fraser,  the  latter  being  covered  by  the 
well-wooded  heights  on  the  west  of  the 
carnp,  and  by  a  "  worm-fence." 

The  Canadians  and  Indians,  being  now 
pushed  forward,  commenced  an  irregular 
attack  upon  the  advanced  pickets  on  the 
American  left.  They  succeeded  in  dri 
ving  the  guards  before  them  close  to  the 
American  redoubt  called  "  Fort  Neilson," 
which  had  been  raised  by  Gates  to  pro 
tect  his  left  toward  the  hills.  Colonel 
Morgan,  however,  having  received  orders 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J 


SECOND  BATTLE  OF  BEMIS'S  HEIGHTS. 


557 


tomarch.was  leading  his  riflemen  through 

O  o 

the  woods,  in  order  to  gain  the  heights 
to  the  right  of  the  enemy,  when  he  came 
upon  the  Indian  and  Canadian  party,  and 
soon  forced  it  back  to  the  British  lines. 

Morgan  now  continued  his  circuitous 
route  through  the  woods,  and  was  hast 
ening  to  begin  his  attack;  while  General 
Gates,  as  had  been  agreed  upon,  was  wait 
ing  for  him  to  come  up  with  the  enemy's 
right  before  he  himself  should  send  out  a 
force  against  their  left,  Sufficient  time 
had  elapsed  for  Morgan  to  make  his  cir 
cuit,  and  Gates  now  accordingly  ordered 
General  Poor's  brigade  of  New- York  and 
New-Hampshire  troops  to  move  against 
Burgoy ne's  left  flank  and  front. 

The  two  attacks  were  made  simultane 
ously.  Morgan  had  reached  the  heights 
in  the  very  nick  of  time,  and  from  the 
cover  of  the  woods  poured  down  upon 
the  enemy  below  a  torrent  of  fire.  The 
English  light-infantry,  under  General  Fra 
ser,  taken  on  their  flank,  were  manoeuvring 
to  change  their  front  in  order  to  meet 
the  shock,  when  at  this  moment  Major 
Dearborn  (who  was  Morgan's  second  in 
command)  pushed  his  corps  rapidly  for 
ward.  After  delivering  a  close  and  mur 
derous  fire,  the  men  leaped  the  "worm- 
fence,"  and,  charging  with  a  loud  shout, 
forced  the  British  to  retire. 

The  young  earl  of  Balcarras,  however, 
coming  up  to  the  aid  of  Fraser,  the  men 
were  rallied,  and  renewed  the  struggle. 
General  Fraser,  in  the  full  uniform  of  a 
British  field-officer,  and  mounted  upon  a 
fine  gray  horse,  was  soon  a  marked  object 
to  the  American  riflemen.  One  rifle-ball 
had  already  cut  in  two  the  crupper,  and 


another  had  passed  through  the  mane  of 
his  charger;  when  his  aid-de-camp, observ 
ing  his  danger,  rode  up  to  his  side,  and 
begged  that,  as  the  marksmen  were  cer 
tainly  singling  him  out,  he  would  take  a 
less  exposed  position.  "  My  duty  forbids 
me  to  fly  from  danger,"  firmly  answered 
the  brave  Fraser ;  and  he  fell  almost  as 
he  spoke. 

Morgan,  having  called  two  or  three  of 
his  best  marksmen  to  his  side,  and,  point 
ing  to  the  doomed  Briton,  had  said  :  "  Do 
yon  see  that  gallant  officer  ?  That  is  Gen 
eral  Fraser.  I  respect  and  honor  him  ; 
but  it  is  necessary  he  should  die !"  He 
fell,  as  we  have  seen,  mortally  wounded, 
and  was  carried  off  the  field.  Fraser's 
loss  was  deeply  felt  by  the  British  troops  ; 
but  Lord  Balcarras  spiritedly  urged  them 
on  to  revenge  his  death,  and  they  strug 
gled  manfully  to  hold  their  ground. 

In  the  meantime,  General  Poor's  bri 
gade  advanced  steadily  and  silently,  for 
each  soldier  had  been  ordered  not  to  fire 
a  shot  until  the  first  discharge  from  the 
enemy.  The  British  grenadiers  and  ar 
tillery  are  drawn  up  on  a  rising  ground 
to  the  left  of  Burgoyne,  and  grim  as  the 
solemn  pines  which  cover  them,  stand 
with  poised  musket  and  loaded  cannon, 
ready  to  begin  their  work  of  death  upon 
the  approaching  columns.  The  Ameri 
cans  reach  the  slope,  and  are  rapidly  but 
deliberately  marching  up,  when  the  ene 
my  open  their  fire.  The  Americans  now 
pour  back  a  volley  in  return,  and,  with 
out  faltering,  push  right  on,  with  a  loud 
hurrah.  They  rush  up  the  hill,  driving 
the  grenadiers  before  them,  and  strug 
gling  hand  \  hand  with  the  artillerymen 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


for  the  possession  of  the  cannon.  The 
enemy  rally  and  come  back  again  to  the 
attack,  and  the  conflict  is  renewed  with 
greater  fierceness  than  ever:  when  final- 

O  ' 

ly  the  Americans  gain  possession  of  the 
ground,  and  the  British  are  driven  within 
their  encampment. 

The  spectacle  which  presented  itself 
on  this  part  of  the  field  of  battle  at  that 
moment  was  a  mingled  one  of  tragic  hor 
ror  and  wild  excitement.  Upon  the  earth, 
within  the  space  of  ten  or  fifteen  yards, 
were  stretched  eighteen  grenadiers  in  the 
agonies  of  death.  Three  British  officers, 
two  of  them  mortally  wounded  and  bleed 
ing  profusely,lay  with  their  heads  propped 
up  against  some  stumps  of  trees.  Colonel 
Cilley,  of  New  Hampshire,  straddling  a 
brass  twelve-pounder,  loudly  exulted  in 
its  capture ;  while  a  surgeon,  who  was 
dressing  a  wound,  raised  his  bloody  hands, 
exclaiming,  "I  have  dipped  my  hands  in 
British  blood  !" 

Such  was  the  scene,  as  he  tells  us,  wit 
nessed  by  General  Wilkinson,  when  he 
came  up  with  Ten  Broeck's  brigade  of 
militia,  which  he  had  been  sent  for  to 
reinforce  General  Poor's  division,  and  aid 
in  the  pursuit  of  the  retreating  enemy. 

As  he  rode  on,  Wilkinson  saw  another 
and  sadder  spectacle  still.  "  Turning  my 
eyes,"  says  he,  "  it  was  my  fortune  to  ar 
rest  the  purpose  of  a  lad,  thirteen  or  four 
teen  years  old,  in  the  act  of  taking  aim 
at  a  wounded  officer  who  lay  in  the  angle 
of  a  worm-fence.  Inquiring  his  rank,  he 
answered,  '  I  had  the  honor  to  command 
the  grenadiers.'  Of  course,  I  knew  him  to 
be  Major  Ackland,  who  had  been  brought 
from  the  field  to  this  place  on  the  back 


of  a  Captain  Shimpton  of  his  own  corp/, 
under  a  heavy  fire,  and  was  here  depos 
ited  to  save  the  lives  of  both.  I  dismount 
ed,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  expressed 
the  hope  that  he  was  not  badly  wounded. 
'Not  badly,'  he  replied,  'but  very  incon 
veniently;  I  am  shot  through  both  legs. 
Will  you,  sir,  have  the  goodness  to  have 
me  conveyed  to  your  camp  ?'  "  Wilkin 
son,  having;  ordered  his  servant  to  alight 

/  o  *— > 

from  his  horse,  they  lifted  Ackland  into 
the  saddle,  and  sent  him  to  the  American 
headquarters. 

When  the  fresh  reinforcement  of  three 
thousand  New-York  militia,  under  Ten 
Broeck,  together  with  Learned's  brigade, 
came  up,  the  action  became  general.  Mor 
gan  was  slowly  but  surely  forcing  the 
enemy's  right  before  him ;  their  left  had 
given  way  before  Poor's  brigade ;  but 
the  British  grenadiers  were  disputing  ev 
ery  inch  of  ground  as  they  retired  :  and 
now  the  reserved  troops  sent  forward  by 
General  Gates  were  hotly  engaged  with 
Burgoyne's  centre,  principally  composed 
of  Hessians,  and  led  by  the  commander- 
in-chief  himself. 

General  Arnold,  who  had  remained  in 
the  camp,  as  he  declared  he  would,  was 
without  command.  When  the  battle  be 
gan,  however,  his  impetuous  nature  fret 
ted  greatly  against  the  constraint  of  his 
position.  On  the  first  beat  to  arms,  he 
mounted  his  black  horse,  and  rode  about 
the  camp,  talking  loudly  and  fiercely  of 
his  wrongs,  and,  brandishing  his  sword, 
threatened  vengeance  against  those  who 
had  dared  to  revile  and  injure  him.  Such 
was  his  state  of  excitement,  that  it  was 
believed  that,  in  his  attempt  to  drown  his 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         MAD  PRANKS  OF  ARNOLD.— THE  VICTORY. 


troubles  in  wine,  he  had  drunk  so  freely 
as  to  lose  all  sell-control.  Dashing  about 
thus,  in  wild  agitation,  he  no  sooner  saw 
that  the  engagement  with  the  enemy  had 
become  general,  than  he  spurred  his  horse 
furiously  into  the  midst  of  the  fight,  where 
General  Learned's  brigade  on  the  left— 
which  had  belonged  to  Arnold's  own  di 
vision —  was  bravely  struggling  with  the 
Hessians,  who  formed  the  British  centre. 
Here  Arnold  assumed  the  command,  and, 
riding  in  front  along  the  line,  he  led  the 
American  troops  forward  again  and  again, 
and  broke  the  ranks  of  the  Germans  at 
every  charge.  But,  gallantly  as  his  men 
pushed  on,  nothing  seemed  to  satisfy  the 
mad  fury  of  their  commander,  W7ho  con 
tinued  to  dash  about  wildly,  spurring  his 
charger  to  the  height  of  his  speed,  and, 
flourishing  his  sword,  fiercely  to  call  upon 
his  troops  to  come  on.  In  his  mad  ex 
citement,  he  became  so  beside  himself, 
that  he  struck  one  of  the  officers  upon 
the  head  and  severely  wounded  him,  with 
out  being  conscious  (as  he  afterward  de 
clared)  of  the  act.  On  the  impulse  of  the 
moment,  the  officer  raised  his  fusee  to 
shoot  Arnold, but, suddenly  checking  him 
self,  he  began  to  remonstrate ;  when  the 
general  was  off  again,  digging  the  spurs 
into  his  horse,  and  riding  to  another  part 
of  the  field,  like  a  madman. 

General  Gates  being  told  of  the  erratic 
movements  of  Arnold,  sent  Major  Arm 
strong  after  him,  with  orders.  Arnold, 
however,  as  soon  as  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  him,  and  probably  aware  of  his  object, 
only  quickened  the  speed  of  his  horse, 
and  led  the  major  such  a  break-neck  chase 


hither  and  thither,  that  he  was  fain  to 
give  up  the  pursuit.  He  was  now  on  the 
American  right,  and  again  in  a  moment 
to  the  extreme  left,  having  dashed  along 
the  whole  length  of  the  line,  between  the 
fires  of  the  two  armies,  without  receiving 
a  wound  or  even  the  graze  of  a  shot. 

Morgan  and  Dearborn,  on  the  Ameri 
can  left,  had  succeeded  in  driving  Lord 
Balcarras  and  his  light-infantry  within 
their  intrenchments.  Arnold  dashed  up, 
and,  calling  upon  a  company  of  riflemen 
in  advance  to  follow  him,  strove  to  force 
his  way  into  the  enemy's  camp.  Finding 
his  efforts  foiled  here  by  the  gallant  re 
sistance  of  Balcarras,  he  turned  his  horse 
and  galloped  to  his  left,  where  Lieuten 
ant  Colonel  Brooks  was  storming  the  ex 
treme  right  of  the  British  fortifications, 
held  by  a  reserve  of  Hessians,  under  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Breyman.  In  spite  v£abat- 
tis  and  redoubts,  the  Germans  are  obliged 
to  give  way,  having  first  lost  their  spir 
ited  commander;  and  Arnold  is  among 
the  first  to  dash  with  his  horse  through 
a  sally-port  right  in  the  midst  of  the  en 
emy,  who  fire  a  last  volley  as  they  retire, 
killing  Arnold's  black  charger,  and  stretch 
ing  his  rider  upon  the  ground  with  a  shot 
in  the  same  knee  which  was  wTounded  at 
Quebec. 

By  this  success  of  the  Americans  on 
the  extreme  right,  the  whole  British  en 
campment  was  laid  open ;  but,  as  night 
was  rapidly  coining  on,  and  the  troops 
were  fatigued  by  hard  fighting,  General 
Gates  did  not  further  push  his  advantage, 
but  remained  satisfied  with  the  glorious 
victory  of  the  day. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


CHAPTER    LX. 

Comparative  Strength  of  the  two  Armies. — The  Killed  and  Wounded. — The  British  retreat. — A  Trying  Night. — The 
Baroness  Ileidesel. — Her  Sad  Experiences. — Lady  Harriet  Ackland. — A  Wife  mourning  for  her  Lord. — The  Death 
of  General  Fniser. — His  Burial. — Honors  to  a  Gidlant  Enemy. — A  Dismal  Night. — The  Journey  of  the  Baroness 
Ileidesel. — Her  Husband  and  Children. — An  Expected  Attack. — Saving  the  Valuables. — The  Baroness  in  Trouble. — 
General  Gates  takes  Possession  of  the  Abandoned  Intrenchments. — Lady  Ackland. — Woman's  Devotion. — Visit  to 
the  American  Camp. — A  tolerably  Comfortable  Night. — A  Happy  Meeting. — Continued  Retreat  of  the  British. — Pur 
suit  by  Gates. — Headquarters  in  a  Hovel. — Alarm  of  the  Enemy. — Further  Trials  of  the  Baroness. — A  "  Horrid 
Situation." 


1777, 


Oct.  7, 


THE  second  battle  near  Bemis's 
heights  had  lasted  from  noon  until 
night.  General  Gates  had  undoubtedly 
much  the  superior  force,  although  the 

numbers  on  both  sides  actually 

engaged  in  the  fight  were  near 
ly  equal.  General  Burgoyne's  whole  ar 
my  amounted  to  less  than  six  thousand ; 
that  of  Gates  to  two  or  three  thousand 
more  than  that  number.  The  loss  of  the 
former  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners, 
was  about  seven  hundred,  among  whom 
were  a  number  of  officers  of  high  rank,  in 
cluding  General  Fraser,  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Breyman,  Sir  Francis  Clarke,  an  aid 
of  Burgoyne,  and  others.  Burgoyne  him 
self  was  greatly  exposed  ;  his  hat  was 
shot  through,  and  his  waistcoat  torn  by 
a  ball.  The  Americans  lost  but  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  in  killed  and  wounded ; 
General  Arnold  was  the  only  commis 
sioned  officer  who  even  received  a  con 
tusion,  and  he  was  without  a  command. 
Burgoyne,  finding  his  position 

untenable,  broke  up  his  camp 
and  moved  his  whole  army  in  the  midst 
of  the  night  after  the  battle,  to  some 
heights  near  the  river  Hudson,  and  about 


Oct.  7, 


a  mile  to  the  northward  of  his  former  en 
campment.  The  trials  and  incidents  of 
that  night  have  been  recorded  in  affect 
ing  words  by  the  baroness  Reidesel,  who 
entered  in  her  narrative  the  events  of  the 
whole  day  as  well  as  of  the  night.  "Se 
vere  trials,"  she  writes,  "  awaited  us  ;  and 
on  the  7th  of  October  our  misfortunes 
began.  I  was  at  breakfast  with  my  hus 
band,  and  heard  that  something  was  in 
tended.  On  the  same  day  I  expected 
Generals  Burgoyne,  Phillips,  and  Fraser, 
to  dine  with  us.  I  saw  a  great  move 
ment  among  the  troops :  my  husband  told 
me  it  was  merely  a  reconnoissance,  which 
gave  me  no  concern,  as  it  often  happened. 
I  walked  out  of  the  house  and  met  sev 
eral  Indians,  in  their  war-dresses,  with 
guns  in  their  hands.  When  I  asked  them 
where  they  were  going,  they  cried  out. 
'War!  ivar  /'  (meaning  that  they  were 
going  to  battle).  This  filled  me  with  ap 
prehension,  and  I  had  scarcely  got  home 
before  I  heard  reports  of  cannon  and  mus 
ketry,  which  grew  louder  by  degrees,  till 
at  last  the  noise  became  excessive. 

"About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
instead  of  the  guests  whom  I  expected, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  BARONESS  REIDESEL.— DEATH  OF  FRASER. 


561 


General  Eraser  was  brought  on  a  litter, 
mortally  wounded.  The  table,  which  was 
already  set,  was  instantly  removed,  and 
a  bed  placed  in  its  stead  for  the  wounded 
general.  I  sat  trembling  in  a  corner  ;  the 
noise  grew  louder  and  the  alarm  increased. 
The  thought  that  my  husband  might  per 
haps  be  brought  in,  wounded  in  the  same 
manner,  was  terrible  to  me,  and  distressed 
me  exceedingly.  General  Fraser  said  to 
the  surgeon :  '  Tell  me  if  my  wound  is 
mortal ;  do  not  flatter  me.'  The  ball  had 
passed  through  his  body,  and  unhappily 
lor  the  general  he  had  eaten  a  very  hearty 
breakfast,  by  which  the  stomach  was  dis 
tended  ;  and  the  ball,  as  the  surgeon  said, 
had  passed  through  it.  I  heard  him  often 
exclaim,  with  a  sigh  :  '  0  fatal  ambition  ! 
Poor  General  Burgoyne !  0  my  poor 
wife !'  He  was  asked  if  he  had  any  re 
quest  to  make,  to  which  he  replied  that, 
'if  General  Burgoyne  would  permit  it, 
he  should  like  to  be  buried  at  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  on  the  top  of  a  mountain, 
in  a  redoubt  which  had  been  built  there.' 
"  1  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn ; 
all  the  other  rooms  were  full  of  sick.  Tow 
ard  evening  I  saw  my  husband  coming; 
then  I  forgot  all  my  sorrows,  and  thanked 
God  that  he  was  spared  to  me.  He  ate 
in  great  haste,  with  me  and  his  aid-de 
camp,  behind  the  house.  We  had  been 
told  that  we  had  the  advantage  of  the 
enemy,  but  the  sorrowful  faces  I  beheld 
told  a  different  tale ;  and  before  my  hus 
band  went  away,  he  took  me  on  one  side, 
and  said  everything  was  going  very  bad  ; 
that  I  must  keep  myself  in  readiness  to 
leave  the  place,  but  not  to  mention  it  to 

any  one.     I  made  the   pretence   that  I 
71 


would  move  the  next  morning  into  my 
new  house,  and  had  everything  packed 
up  ready. 

"  Lady  Harriet  Ackland  had  a  tent  no 
far  from  our  house  ;  in  this  she  slept,  and 
the  rest  of  the  day  she  was  in  the  camp. 
All  of  a  sudden,  a  man  came  to  tell  her 
that  her  husband  was  mortally  wounded, 
and  taken  prisoner.  On  hearing  this,  she 
became  very  miserable.  We  comforted 
her  by  telling  her  that  the  wound  was 
only  slight,  and  at  the  same  time  advised 
her  to  go  over  to  her  husband,  to  do  which 
she  would  certainly  obtain  permission, 
and  then  she  could  attend  him  herself. 
She  was  a  charming  woman,  and  very 
fond  of  him.  I  spent  much  of  the  night 
in  comforting  her,  and  then  went  again 
to  my  children,  whom  I  had  put  to  bed. 

"  I  could  not  go  to  sleep,  as  I  had  Gen 
eral  Fraser  and  all  the  other  wounded 
gentlemen  in  my  room ;  and  I  was  sadly 
afraid  my  children  would  awake,  and  by 
their  crying  disturb  the  dying  man  in  his 
last  moments,  who  often  addressed  me, 
and  apologized  'for  the  trouble  he  gave 
me.'  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  I  was  told  he  could  not  hold  out  much 
longer.  I  had  desired  to  be  informed  of 
the  near  approach  of  this  sad  crisis ;  and 
I  then  wrapped  up  my  children  in  their 
clothes,  and  went  with  them  into  the  room 
below.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  he  died. 

. . . .  "  The  corpse  was  brought  out,  and 
we  saw  all  the  generals  attend  it  to  the 
mountain  ;  the  chaplain,  Mr.  Bru- 
denell,performed  the  funeral  ser 
vice,  rendered  unusually  solemn  and  aw 
ful  from  its  being  accompanied  by  con- 


56: 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


I'AKT    II. 


slant  peals  from  the  enemy's  artillery. 
Many  cannon-balls  flew  close  by  me,  but 
I  had  my  eyes  directed  toward  the  mount- 
ain,where  my  husband  was  standing,  amid 
the  fire  of  the  enemy,  and  of  course  I 
could  not  think  of  my  own  danger." 

General  Burgoyne  had  not  hesitated  to 
grant  the  dying  request  of  his  brave  and 
true-hearted  friend,  notwithstanding  the 
delay  and  inconvenience  which  it  caused 
to  the  retreat  he  contemplated.  Burgoyne 
has  also  left  a  touching  description  of  the 
scene  of  the  burial  of  General  Fraser,  and 
recorded  his  admiration  and  love  for  the 
gallant  soldier :  "The  incessant  cannon 
ade  daring  the  ceremony  ;  the  steady  at 
titude  and  unaltered  voice  with  which  the 
chaplain  officiated, though  frequently  cov 
ered  with  dust  which  the  shot  threw  up 
on  all  sides  of  him  ;  the  mute  but  expres 
sive  mixture  of  sensibility  and  indigna 
tion  upon  every  countenance ;  these  ob 
jects  will  remain  to  the  last  of  life  upon 
the  mind  of  every  man  who  was  present. 
The  growing  darkness  added  to  the  scene 
ry,  and  the  whole  marked  a  character  of 
that  juncture  which  would  make  one  of 
the  finest  subjects  for  the  pencil  of  a  mas 
ter  that  the  field  ever  exhibited.  To  the 
canvas  and  to  the  faithful  page  of  a  more 
important  historian,  gallant  friend  !  I  con 
sign  thy  memory.  There  may  thy  tal 
ents,  thy  manly  virtues,  their  progress 
and  their  period,  find  due  distinction;  and 
long  may  they  survive  —  long  after  the 
frail  record  of  my  pen  shall  be  forgotten!" 

The  firing  from  the  American  lines  was 
in  consequence  of  ignorance  of  the  object 
of  the  gathering  upon  the  height.  When 
it  was  discovered,  the  artillery  no  longer 


Ocl,  8, 


threw  hostile  shot,but  discharged  minute- 
guns  in  honor  of  the  memory  of  Fraser, 
whose  gallantry  was  acknowledged  both 
by  friend  and  foe. 

As  soon  as  Burgoyne  had  paid  the  last 
sad  duties  to  his  brave  comrade,  he  began 
his  retreat,  The  fires  in  the  old 
camp  were  left  burning,and  some 
tents  standing  ;  and  orders  were  given  to 
the  troops  to  move  in  profound  silence. 
The  night  was  stormy;  the  rain  poured 
in  torrents,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  the  weak  and  half-starved 
horses  could  draw  the  baggage-wagons 
over  the  broken  roads  in  which  the  wheels 
sank  deep  into  the  mire.  Constant  halts 
took  place,  to  give  the  wearied  troops 
moments  of  rest,  and  to  bring  up  by  the 
river  the  lagging  boats,  laden  with  the 
artillery  and  stores.  The  sad  march  con 
tinued  from  time  to  time  throughout  that 
dismal  night. 

Burgoyne  had  left  his  sick  and  wound 
ed  behind  him,  in  the  hospital  in  his  late 
camp,  with  a  letter  to  Gates,  commend 
ing  them  to  the  protection  "  which  I  feel,' 
wrote  the  British  commander,  "  I  should 
show  to  an  enemy  in  the  same  case." 
Some  of  the  wounded  officers,  however, 
in  spite  of  their  injuries,  crept  from  their 
beds,  and  determined;  rather  than  stay 
behind,  to  suffer  all  the  tortures  of  a  pain 
ful  journey.  The  officers'  wives  who  were 
with  the  army  were  sent  on  in  advance. 
The  baroness  Reidesel's  calami  was  made 
ready  for  her,  but  she  would  not  consent 
to  go  before  the  troops.  The  baron,  see 
ing  her  thus  exposed  to  danger  by  re 
maining  in  the  rear,  ordered  the  children 
and  servants  into  the  carriage,  and  inti- 


KEVOLUTIOXA  RY.] 


GENERAL  BURGOYNE  RETREATS. 


56:3 


mated  to  his  wife  to  follow  and  depart 
without  delay.  "  I  still  prayed,"  says  the 
baroness,  "to  remain;  but  my  husband, 
knowing  my  weak  side,  said.  '•  Well,  then, 
your  children  must  go,  that  at  least  they 
may  be  safe  from  danger.'  "  She  then  con 
sented,  got  into  her  calash,  and  drove  off. 
At  six  o'clock  the  next  morn 
ing  there  was  a  full  halt.  "  The 
delay,"  says  the  baroness  (whose  anxie 
ties  were  naturally  for  her  husband  and 
her  children), '-seemed  to  displease  every 
body  ;  for,  if  we  could  have  only  made 
another  good  march,  we  should  have  been 
in  safety."  Burgoyne  was,  however,  pru 
dently  preparing  against  the  chances  of 
attack  from  his  triumphant  enemy  in  the 
rear.  He  halted  in  order  to  count  and 
range  his  cannon,  and  to  bring  his  strag 
gling  troops  out  of  the  confusion  unavoid 
able  in  a  hurried  retreat.  He  soon  found 
reason  for  his  discretion  ;  for  he  had  hard 
ly  begun  his  march,  when  the  alarm  was 
given  that  the  enemy  were  in  sight.  A 
halt  was  again  immediately  ordered  ;  but 
it  was  soon  discovered  that  the  fright  had 
come  from  a  small  reconnoitring-party  of 
Americans,  only  two  hundred  strong. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  the  retreat 
ing  army  expected  an  engagement,  and 
prepared  for  the  worst.  Some  of  the  Ger 
man  officers  collected  their  valuables,  and 
strove  to  place  them  in  security,  so  that 
their  property  might  have  a  chance  of 
safety,  whatever  might  be  the  risks  to 
which  their  lives  were  exposed.  "  Cap 
tain  Willoe,"  says  the  baroness,  "  brought 
me  a  bag  full  of  bank-notes,  and  Captain 
Geismar  his  elegant  watch,  a  ring,  and  a 
purse  full  of  money,  which  they  request 


ed  me  to  take  care  of,  and  which  I  prom 
ised  to  do  to  the  utmost  of  my  power." 

The  army, nevertheless,  soon  recovered 
from  its  fright,and  moved  slowly  on  again. 
But  the  poor  baroness,  with  the  anxieties 
for  her  husband,  the  care  of  her  little  chil 
dren,  and  her  despairing  servants,  was 
overwhelmed  with  trouble.  "  One  of  my 
waiting-women,"  she  says,  "  was  in  a  state 
of  despair  which  approached  to  madness. 
She  cursed,  and  tore  her  hair;  and  when 
I  attempted  to  reason  with  her,  and  to 
pacify  her,  she  asked  me  if  I  was  not 
grieved  at  our  situation ;  and,  upon  my 
saying,  '  I  am,'  she  tore  her  cap  off'  her 
head,  and  let  her  hair  drop  over  her  face, 
saying  to  me :  '  It  is  very  easy  for  you 
to  be  composed  and  talk  ;  you  have  your 
husband  with  you  :  I  have  none,  and  what 
remains  to  me  but  the  prospect  of  perish 
ing,  or  losing  all  I  have  ?'  "  All  that  the 
baroness  could  do  was  to  bid  her  take 
comfort,  and  promise  that  she  should  be 
compensated  for  all  her  losses. 

"  About  evening,"  continues  the  baron 
ess,  "  we  arrived  at  Saratoga.  My  dress 
was  wet  through  and  through  with  rain, 
and  in  that  state  I  had  to  remain 
the  whole  night,  having  no  place 
to  change  it.  I,  however,  got  close  to  a 
large  fire,  and  at  last  lay  clown  on  some 
straw.  At  this  moment,  General  Phillips 
came  up  to  me,  and  I  asked  him  why  we 
had  not  continued  our  retreat,  as  my  hus 
band  had  promised  to  cover  it,  and  bring 
the  arm}-  through.  '  Poor,  dear  woman,' 
said  he,  '  I  wonder  how,  drenched  as  you 
are,  you  have  the  courage  still  to  perse 
vere  and  venture  farther  in  this  kind  of 
weather.  I  wish,'  continued  he, '  you  were 


Oct.  9, 


564 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


Oct.  9. 


our  commanding  general :  General  Bur 
goyne  is  tired,  and  means  to  halt  here  to 
night  and  give  us  our  supper.'" 

On  the  morning  after  Burgoyne's  re 
treat,  the  whole  of  Gates's  army,  with  the 
exception  of  the  camp -guards, 
moved  forward  and  took  posses 
sion  of  the  enemy's  abandoned  intrench- 
ments.  The  British  commander  was  still 
in  the  position,  on  the  heights,  which  he 
had  taken  on  the  night  of  the  battle.  Du 
ring  the  day  while  he  remained,  previous 
to  beginning  his  retreat,  a  desultory  fire 
was  kept  up  between  the  pickets  of  the 
opposing  camps ;  and  General  Lincoln, 
while  reconnoitring,  had  his  leg  broken 
by  a  shot  from  the  enemy.  Burgoyne, 
as  we  have  seen,  was  allowed  to  begin  his 
retreat  on  the  night  of  the  8th  of  Octo 
ber,  without  interruption ;  for  Gates  pru 
dently  avoided  an  engagement,  and  de 
termined  so  to  surround  his  enemy  as  to 
force  him  to  a,  surrender.  He  according 
ly,  when  Burgoyne  was  retreating,  sent 
off  General  Fellows,  with  a  detachment 
of  fourteen  hundred  militia,  to  cross  the 
Hudson,  and  post  themselves  on  the  high 
ground,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river, 
opposite  to  Saratoga,  and  at  a  ford  where 
the  British  would  desire  to  cross.  Other 
troops  were  also  detached  to  Fishkill ; 
while  Fort  Edward,  on  the  Hudson,  and 
Fort  George,  on  Lake  George,  to  the 
north  of  Saratoga,  were  already  held  by 
Colonel  Cochrane,  in  command  of  a  force 
which  was  daily  gathering  strength  from 
the  flocking  in  of  the  militia  of  the  whole 
country  round. 

General  Gates,  with  his  main  body,  re 
mained  quietly  for  two  days  in  the  camp 


Oct.  9, 


abandoned  by  Burgoyne.  "The  weath 
er,"  says  Wilkinson,  "was  unfavorable,  the 
commissariat  dilatory,  and  the  men  seem 
ed  to  prefer  repose  to  action."  The  delay 
fretted  the  young  deputy  adjutant-gener- 
al,  but  Gates  was  unmoved,  and  was  calm 
ly  and  discreetly  abiding  his  time. 

An  incident  now  occurred  which  brings 
again  to  our  notice  one  of  the  gentle  wo 
men  of  whom  we  have  already 
had  so  much  to  say,  to  whose 
constant  heroism  of  woman's  love  during 
these  trying  times  wre  all  eagerly  turn, 
from  the  hot  bravery  flushing  up  in  the 
angry  paroxysms  of  the  battle-struggle. 

Lady  Harriet  Ackland,  when  she  heard 
that  her  husband  (Major  Ackland,  of  the 
grenadiers)  was  wounded  and  a  prison 
er,  was  determined  to  go  to  him,  as  she 
had  done  when  he  was  a  sufferer  before, 
and  by  her  sympathy  and  her  tender  care 
soothe  him  whom  she  loved  so  deeply. 
When  she  sent  to  Burgoyne,  asking  per 
mission  to  proceed  to  the  American  camp, 
he  was  greatly  surprised.  "  Though  I  was 
ready  to  believe."  he  says,  "  that  patience 
and  fortitude,  in  a  supreme  degree,  were 
to  be  found,  as  well  as  every  other  virtue, 
under  the  most  tender  forms,  I  was  as 
tonished  at  this  proposal.  After  so  long 
an  agitation  of  spirits,  exhausted  not  only 
for  want  of  rest,  but  absolutely  want  of 
food,  drenched  in  rains  for  twelve  hours 
together — that  a  woman  should  be  ca 
pable  of  such  an  undertaking  as  deliver 
ing  herself  to  an  enemy,  probably  in  the 
niuiit,  and  uncertain  of  what  hands  she 

o         ' 

might  fall  into,  appeared  an  effort  above 
human  nature.  The  assistance  I  was  en 
abled  to  give  was  small  indeed  ;  1  had  not 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J 


LADY  HARRIET  ACKLAND. 


565 


even  a  cup  of  wine  to  offer  her :  but  I 
was  told  she  had  found,  from  some  kind 
and  fortunate  hand,  a  little  rum  and  dirty 
water.  All  I  could  furnish  to  her  wras  an 
open  boat,  and  a  few  lines  (written  upon 
dirty,  wet  paper)  to  General  Gates,  rec 
ommending  her  to  his  protection." 

On  the  "  dirty,  wet  paper"  the  British 
cominander-in-chief  wrote  as  follows,  in  a 
rapid  scrawl :  — 

"  SIR  :  Lady  Harriet  Ackland,  a  lady  of 
the  first  distinction  by  family,  rank,  and 
by  personal  virtues,  is  under  such  concern 
on  account  of  Major  Ackland  her  husband, 
wounded  and  a  prisoner  in  your  hands, 
that  I  can  not  refuse  her  request  to  com 
mit  her  to  your  protection. 

"  Whatever  general  impropriety  there 
may  be  in  persons  acting  in  your  situa 
tion  and  mine  to  solicit  favors,  I  can  not 
see  the  uncommon  perseverance  in  every 
female  grace  and  exaltation  of  character 
of  this  lady,  and  her  very  hard  fortune, 
without  testifying  that  your  attentions  to 

t/  O  «/ 

her  will  lay  me  under  obligation. 
"  I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

"J.   BURGOYNE. 

"  October  9,  1777. 

"  MAJOK-GENICUAL  GATKS." 

Lady  Ackland,  thus  provided,  set  out 
in  the  midst  of  a  storm  of  rain,  on  her 
trying  journey,  in  an  open  boat  upon  the 
Hudson.  Mr.  Brudenell,  the  chaplain,  had 
offered  to  accompany  her ;  and  he,  to 
gether  with  a  waiting-maid,  and  her  hus 
band's  body-servant  (who  had  still  a  ball 
in  his  shoulder,  which  he  had  received 
while  searching  for  his  master  on  the  bat 
tle-field),  were  her  only  companions.  It 


was  at  dusk  in  the  evening  when  she  be 
gan  her  journey,  and  it  was  late  at  night 
when  she  reached  the  American  outposts. 
A  sentinel,  hearing  the  oars  of  the  boat, 
challenged  it,  when  Mr.  Brudenell,  the 
chaplain,  called  out  that  he  bore  a  flag  of 
truce  from  General  Burgoyne.  The  sol 
dier,  fearful  of  treachery,  and  threatening 
to  shoot  them  should  they  land,  kept 
them  off  until  he  had  sent  word  to  Major 
Henry  Dearborn,  who  commanded  the 
American  advanced  guard. 

The  major,  upon  learning  that  there 
was  a  lady  in  the  boat,  immediately  pre 
pared  to  receive  her.  His  guard  occupied 
a  log-cabin,  in  which  there  was  a  back 
apartment  appropriated  to  his  own  use. 
This  he  had  cleared  for  her  reception,  and 
orders  were  given  that  the  party  should 
be  allowed  to  land.  Upon  reaching  the 
cabin,  Lady  Ackland  was  assured  of  her 
husband's  safety  ;  and  a  fire  having  been 
lighted,  and  a  cup  of  tea  made,  she  was 
enabled  to  pass  the  night  with  tolerable 
comfort.  Early  the  next  morn 
ing,  the  party  again  embarked, 
and  sailed  down  the  river  to  the  Ameri 
can  camp,  "  where  General  Gates,  whose 
gallantry  will  not  be  denied,"  says  Wil 
kinson,  "  stood  ready  to  receive  her  with 
all  the  tenderness  and  respect  to  which 
her  rank  and  condition  gave  her  a  claim. 
Indeed,  the  feminine  figure,  the  benign  as 
pect,  and  polished  manners,  of  this  charm 
ing  woman,  were  alone  sufficient  to  attract 
the  sympathy  of  the  most  obdurate  ;  but 
if  another  motive  could  have  been  want 
ing  to  inspire  respect,  it  was  furnished  by 
the  peculiar  circumstances  of  Lady  Har 
riet,  then  in  that  most  delicate  situation, 


Oct.  10, 


506 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


which  can  not  fail  to  interest  the  solici 
tudes  of  every  being  possessing  the  form 
and  feelings  of  a  man." 

Her  wounded  husband,  Major  Ackland, 
had  already  been  conveyed  to  Albany, 
where  Lady  Harriet  proceeded  immedi 
ately  to  join  him,  and  had  the  happiness 
of  finding  that  his  wound  was  not  mortal, 
and  that  he  was  rapidly  recovering  from 
its  effects.* 

General  Burgoyne  did  riot  remain  long 
at  Saratoga,  but,  having  refreshed  his  ar 
my  after  its  painful  inarch  with  a  few 
hours  of  such  repose  as  his  troops  could 
obtain  by  throwing  themselves  on  the  wet 
ground  during  the  pelting  rain,  he  began 
to  continue  his  retreat  to  the  northward 

before  break  of  day.     A  detach- 
Oct,  10,  ...          .        J 

ment  01  Americans  had  reached 

the  ground,  on  the  bank  of  the  Fishkill, 


*  The  subsequent  history  of  Lady  Harriet  and  Major  Ack 
land  was  thus  first  told  by  Wilkinson,  and  has  been  adopted 
by  most  other  writers:  "  Ackland,  after  his  return  to  Eng 
land,  procured  a  regiment ;  and  at  a  dinner  of  military  men, 
where  the  courage  of  Americans  was  made  a  question,  took 
the  negative  side  with  his  usual  decision  ;  he  was  opposed, 
warmth  ensued,  and  lie  gave  the  lie  direct  to  a  Lieutenant 
Lloyd,  fought  him,  and  was  shot  through  the  head.  Lady 
Harriet  lost  her  senses,  and  continued  deranged  two  years  ; 
after  which,  I  have  been  informed,"  continues  Wilkinson, 
"she  married  Mr.  Brudenell,  who  accompanied  her  from 
General  Burgoyne's  camp,  when  she  sought  her  wounded 
husband  on  the  Hudson's  river."  This  story,  however,  is 
now  contradicted ;  and  it  is  declared,  apparently  on  good 
authority,  that  Major  Ackland  did  not  tight  a  duel,  and  was 
not  killed  ;  that  Lady  Harriet  did  not  become  insane,  and 
did  not  marry  the  chaplain,  Mr.  Brudenell.  "Major  John 
Dyke  Ackland,"  says  Lossing,  in  his  Life  of  Washington, 
"  was  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Dyke  Ackland.  He  died 
from  the  effects  of  his  wounds  received  at  Saratoga,  Novem 
ber,  1778.  His  wife,  the  'Right  Honorable  Lady  Harriet 
Ackland,'  was  sister  of  the  earl  of  Ilchester,  and  mother  of 
the  late  countess  of  Carnarvon.  Lady  Ackland  survived 
her  husband  many  years,  arid,  contrary  to  the  generally- 
received  opinion,  appears  to  have  remained  his  widow  until 
her  death,  on  the  21st.  of  July,  1815.  ...  Lady  Ackland  and 
the  eminent  Charles  James  Fox  were  cousins." —  (See  Amer 
ican  Historical  Maijaziue,  New  York,  vol.  ii.,  p.  121.) 


before  the  British  commander;  and,  al 
though  on  his  advance,  they  had  retreat 
ed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  where 
General  Fellows  was  posted  on  the  heights 
with  his  fifteen  hundred  men,  they  had 
taken  care  to  break  down  the  bridges. 
Burgoyne  was  thus  delayed  in  getting 
his  baggage  and  artillery  over  the  Fisl 
kill,  which  small  stream,  running  into  th 
Hudson  from  west  to  east,  stretched  di 
rectly  across  his  route.  After  destroying 
the  buildings  on  the  south  bank,  among 
which  were  the  house  and  mills  belonirinur 

O        O 

to  General  Schuyler,  the  British  crossed 
over  and  posted  themselves  on  the  heights 
north  of  the  Fishkill,  where  they  at  once 
began  to  intrench  their  camp. 

General  Gates,  in  the  meantime,  drew 
near  in  pursuit;  although,  in  consequence 
of  the  heavy  rains,  and  some  delay  in  wait 
ing  for  supplies,  he  did  not  march  before 
the  afternoon  of  the  10th  of  October.  By 
four  o'clock,  however,  he  reached  Sarato 
ga,  and  took  his  position  on  the  wooded 
heights,  about  a  mile  south  of  the  Fish- 
kill,  separated  from  Burgoyne's  camp  by 
this  small  stream.  The  general's  own  quar 
ters  were  humble  enough, being  in  a  small 
hovel  about  ten  feet  square,  situated  at 
the  foot  of  a  hill,  out  of  which  it  had  been 
partially  scooped.  The  floor  was  simply 
the  ground,  and  Gates's  pallet  was  spread 
upon  rude  boards,  supported  by  four  fork 
ed  pieces  of  timber,  with  cross-pieces,  iu 
one  corner;  while  Wilkinson,  with  his 
saddle  for  a  pillow,  lay  upon  the  straw  in 
another.  Finding  the  enemy  still  busy 
in  moving  their  stores,  Gates  ordered  out 
twro  light  fieldpieces,  to  disperse  a  fatigue 
party  engaged  in  unloading  the  batteaux 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  THE  BARONESS  REIDESEL  IN  A  CELLAR. 


567 


which  had  followed  Burgoyne  up  the 
Hudson.  The  object  was  attained  ;  but 
Major  Stevens,  who  was  serving  the  field- 
pieces,  was  soon  obliged  to  withdraw,  by 
a  severe  cannonade  from  the  whole  park 
of  the  enemy's  artillery. 

To  the  baroness  Reidesel's  narrative  we 
must  again  recur  for  a  true  impression  of 
passing  events  in  the  British  camp.  "  The 
greatest  misery,"  she  says,  "  at  this  time 
prevailed  in  the  army,  and  more  than 
thirty  officers  came  to  me,  for  whom  tea 
and  coffee  was  prepared,  and  with  whom 
I  shared  all  my  provisions,  with  which  my 
calash  was  in  general  well  supplied  ;  for  I 
had  a  cook  who  was  an  excellent  caterer, 
and  who  often  in  the  night  crossed  small 
rivers  and  foraged  on  the  inhabitants, 
bringing  in  with  him  sheep,  small  pigs, 
and  poultry,  for  which  he  very  often  for 
got  to  pay,  though  he  received  good  pay 
from  me,  as  long  as  I  had  any,  and  was 
ultimately  handsomely  rewarded.  Our 
provisions  now  failed  us  for  want  of  prop 
er  conduct  in  the  commissary's  depart 
ment,  and  I  began  to  despair. 

"  About  two  o'clock  in  the  af 
ternoon,  we  again  heard  a  firing 
of  cannon  and  small-arms.  Instantly  all 
was  alarm,  and  everything  in  motion. 
My  husband  told  me  to  go  to  a  house  not 
far  off.  I  immediately  seated  myself  in 
my  calash  with  my  children,  and  drove 
off;  but  scarcely  had  we  reached  it,  be 
fore  I  discovered  five  or  six  armed  men 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Hudson.  Instinct 
ively  1  threw  my  children  down  in  the 
calash,  and  then  concealed  myself  with 
them.  At  that  moment  the  fellows  fired, 
and  wounded  an  already  wounded  Eng- 


Oct.  11. 


lish  soldier,  who  was  behind  me.  Poor 
fellow !  I  pitied  him  exceedingly,  but  at 
that  moment  had  no  means  or  power  to 
relieve  him. 

"  A  terrible  cannonade  was  commenced 
by  the  enemy,  which  was  directed  against 
the  house  in  which  I  sought  to  obtain 
shelter  for  myself  and  children,  under  the 
mistaken  idea  that  all  the  generals  were 
in  it.  Alas  !  it  contained  none  but  wound 
ed  and  women.  We  were  at  last  obliged 
to  resort  to  the  cellar  for  refuge ;  and  in 
one  corner  of  this  I  remained  the  whole 
day.  my  children  sleeping  on  the  earth 
with  their  heads  in  my  lap,  and  in  the 
same  situation  I  passed  a  sleepless  night. 
Eleven  cannon-balls  passed  through  the 
house,  n,nd  we  could  distinctly  hear  them 
roll  away.  One  poor  soldier,  who  was  ly 
ing  on  a  table,  for  the  purpose  of  having 
his  leg  arnputated,t  was  struck  by  a  shot 
which  carried  away  his  other.  His  com 
rades  had  left  him,  and  when  we  went  to 
his  assistance  we  found  him  in  a  corner 
of  the  room,  into  which  he  had  crept  more 
dead  than  alive,  scarcely  breathing.  My 
reflections  on  the  danger  to  which  my 
husband  was  exposed  now  agonized  me 
exceedingly ;  and  the  thoughts  of  my 
children,  and  the  necessity  of  struggling 
for  their  preservation,  alon^  sustained  me. 

"  The  ladies  of  the  army  who  were  with 
me  were,  Mrs.  Hamage,  a  Mrs.  Kennels, 
the  widow  of  a  lieutentant  who  was  killed, 
and  the  wife  of  the  commissary.  Major 
Hamage,  his  wife,  and  Mrs. Kennels,  made 
a  little  room  in  a  corner,  with  curtains  to 
it,  and  wished  to  do  the  same  for  me  ;  but 
I  preferred  being  near  the  door,  in  case 
of  fire.  Not  far  off  my  maid  slept,  and 


568 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


opposite  to  us  three  English  officers,  who, 
though  wounded.,  were  determined  not  to 
be  left  behind  ;  one  of  them  was  Captain 
Greene,  an  aid-de-camp  to  Major  Phillips, 
a  very  valuable  officer  and  most  agreea 
ble  man.  They  each  made  me  a  most 
sacred  promise  not  to  leave  me  behind ; 
and,  in  case  of  a  sudden  retreat,  that  they 
would  each  of  them  take  one  of  my  chil 
dren  on  his  horse :  and,  for  myself,  one 
of  my  husband's  was  in  constant  readi 
ness. 

"  Our  cook,  I  have  before  mentioned, 
procured  us  our  meals,  but  we  were  in 
want  of  water ;  and  I  was  often  obliged 
to  drink  wine,  and  to  give  it  to  my  chil 
dren.  It  was  the  only  thing  my  husband 
took — which  made  our  faithful  hunter 
(Rockel)  express  one  day  his  apprehen 
sions  that '  the  general  was  weary  of  his 
life,  or  fearful  of  being  taken,  as  he  drank 
so  much  wine.'  The  constant  danger  which 
my  husband  was  in,  kept  me  in  a  state  of 
wretchedness ;  and  I  asked  myself  if  it 
was  possible  I  should  be  the  only  happy 
one,  and  have  my  husband  spared  to  me 

•/ 

unhurt,  exposed  as  he  was  to  so  many 
perils.  He  never  entered  his  tent,  but 
lay  down  whole  nights  by  the  watch-fires. 
This  alone  was  enough  to  have  killed 
him,  the  cold  was  so  intense. 

"The  want  of  water  distressed  us  much. 
At  length  vse  found  a  soldier's  wife,  who 
had  courage  enough  to  fetch  us  some  from 
the  river,  an  office  nobody  else  would  un 
dertake,  as  the  Americans  shot  at  every 
person  who  approached  it ;  but,  out  of  re 
spect  for  her  sex,  they  never  molested 
her. 


"I  now  occupied  myself  through  the 
day  in  attending  the  wounded.  I  made 
them  tea  and  coffee,  and  often  shared  my 
dinner  with  them,  for  which  they  offered 
me  a  thousand  expressions  of  gratitude. 
One  day,  a  Canadian  officer  came  to  our 
cellar,  who  had  scarcely  the  power  of 
holding  himself  upright,  and  we  con 
cluded  he  was  dying  for  want  of  nourish 
ment.  I  was  happy  in  offering  him  my 
dinner,  which  strengthened  him,  and  pro 
cured  me  his  friendship.  I  now  under 
took  the  care  of  Major  Bloomfielcl,  anoth 
er  aid-de-camp  of  General  Phillips.  He 
had  received  a  musket-ball  through  both 
cheeks,  which  in  its  course  had  knocked 
out  several  of  his  teeth  and  cat  his  tongue. 
He  could  hold  nothing  in  his  mouth  ;  the 
matter  which  ran  from  his  mouth  almost 
choked  him,  and  he  was  not  able  to  take 
any  nourishment  except  a  little  soup  or 
something  liquid.  We  had  some  Rhenish 
wine,  and,  in  the  hope  that  the  acidity  of 
it  would  cleanse  his  wound,  I  gave  him 
a  bottle  of  it;  he  took  a  little  now  and 
then,  and  with  such  effect,  that  his  cure 
soon  followed.  Thus  I  added  another  to 
my  stock  of  friends,  and  derived  a  satis 
faction  which,  in  the  midst  of  sufferings, 
served  to  tranquillize  me,  and  diminish 
their  acuteness. 

"  One  day,  General  Phillips  accompa 
nied  my  husband,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives, 
on  a  visit  to  us,  who,  after  having  wit 
nessed  our  situation, said  to  him :  '  I  would 
not  for  ten  thousand  guineas  come  again 
to  this  place  ;  my  heart  is  almost  broken  !' 
In  this  horrid  situation  we  remained  six 
days." 


UEVOLUTIONAHY.] 


BURGOYNE'S  DESPERATE  SITUATION. 


K39 


CHAPTER    LXI. 

Desperate  Situation  of  General  Burgoyne. — Desperate  Expedients. — A  Masked  Movement. — The  Americans  tricked  — 
A  Skirmish  with  the  Pickets. — The  British  surrounded. — Despair  of  Burgoyne. — Proposals  to  negotiate. — The  Terms 
settled. — Surrenderof  Burgoyne. — Convention  not  Capitulation. — News  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Too  late. — Fresh 
Beef. — The  Baroness  Reidesel  refreshed. — The  Convention  signed. — Meeting  of  Burgoyne  and  Gates. — Splendor  and 
Simplicity. — The  Formalities  of  the  Surrender. — The  British  Commander  pleads  Illness. — The  "  Stars  and  Stripes" 
for  the  First  Time. — The  Adventures  of  the  Baroness  continued. — Courtesy  of  General  Sehuyrer. — French  Gallantry. 
— Kindness  of  Schuyler. — The  Numbers  surrendered. — The  News  of  Victory  reaches  Congress. — Gates  moves  toward 
the  Hudson. — Retreat  of  General  Vaughan. — The  Result  of  the  Surrender  at  Saratoga. — Its  Effect  in  France,  Eng 
land,  and  throughout  Europe. — The  Earl  of  Chatham. — "  You  can  not  conquer  America!" 


1777, 


GENERAL  BURGOYNE  was  now  in  a 
desperate  position,  with  a  powerful 
body  of  Americans  under  General  Fellows 
extending  beyond  his  left  flank,  on  the 
eastern  bank  of  the  Hudson ;  with  the 
country  before  him,  toward  the  north, 
filled  with  provincials,  who  held  Fort  Ed 
ward,  and  swarmed  in  every  mountain- 
pass  and  forest-path  which  led  to  Fort 
George,  and  even  to  the  borders  of  Lake 
Cliamplain ;  and  with  a  triumphant  ene 
my  behind  him.  His  situation  was  des 
perate,  and  his  plans  for  extrication  equal 
ly  so.  He  proposed  to  ascend  the  Hud 
son,  along  the  western  bank,  where  he 
was  now  posted,  to  Fort  George,  at  the 
southern  end  of  the  lake  of  that  name. 
A  rugged  country,  with  mountains,  mo 
rasses,  ravines,  and  deep  streams,  was  be 
fore  him.  Roads  were  to  be  made  and 
bridges  built  by  an  army  half  famished 
and  threatened  on  all  sides  by  a  numer 
ous  and  triumphant  enemy.  Great  as 
were  the  obstacles,  the  British  general 
made  the  attempt  to  overcome  them.  He 
sent  out  working-parties  to  open  roads 
and  construct  bridges  ;  but  the  American 


riflemen  were  everywhere  on  the  alert, 
and  from  each  rocky  defile  and  forest- 
covert  came  the  fetal  bullets :  and,  after 
one  day's  trial,  Burgoyne's  artificers  were 
forced  to  retire  to  the  cover  of  the  camp, 
and  give  up  all  hope  of  the  route  to  Fort 
George  by  the  western  bank  of  the  Hud 
son. 

Burgoyne  now  hit  upon  the  desperate 
expedient  of  marching  his  army  a  short 
distance  along  the  Hudson,  and  forcino- 

C>  O 

his  passage  across  that  river  in  the  very 
face  of  the  large  body  of  Americans  on 
the  eastern  bank.  Making  up  his  rnind 
to  abandon  the  artillery,  and  giving  each 
man  his  share  of  the  few  days'  provisions 
which  were  all  that  were  left  to  carry  in 
his  knapsack  on  his  back,  he  hoped  that 
his  troops,  by  dint  of  personal  daring  and 
physical  endurance,  might  succeed  in 
working  their  way  to  Fort  Edward  and 
the  lakes,  and  thence  by  a  circuitous 
route  find  safety  in  Canada.  With  this 
object  in  view,  Burgoyne  sent  a 
detachment  up  the  river  in  ad 
vance,  intending  to  follow  with  the  whole 
of  his  army  in  the  course  of  the  night. 


Oct.  10, 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


PART    IJ 


Oct.  11. 


This  movement  almost  proved  fatal  to 
Gates. 

Intelligence  was  brought  late  at  niu;lit 

O  o  o 

into  the  American  camp  that  the  main 
body  of  the  British  had  abandoned  their 
intrenchments  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Fishkill,  and  were  marching  to  Fort  Ed 
ward.  Gates  accordingly  ordered  Mor 
gan,  with  his  rifle-corps,  and  Nixon  and 
Glover,  with  their  brigades,  to  cross  the 
Fishkill  at  break  of  day,  and  attack  the 
enemy's  encampment,  supposed  to  be  de 
fended  merely  by  a  rear-guard. 
The  morning,  as  is  common  at 
that  season  of  the  year,  opened  with  a 
dense  fog ;  but  the  alert  Morgan  had  at 
the  earliest  hour  groped  his  way  across 
the  stream,  and  was  soon  engaged  with 
an  advanced  picket  of  the  British  on  their 
right.  The  firing  brought  the  brigades 
of  Patterson  and  Learned  to  his  support. 
Nixon,  too,  had  crossed  the  Fishkill,  to 
move  against  the  centre  of  the  enemy's 
camp  ;  Glover  was  about  doing  the  same  ; 
and  General  Gates  had  moved  his  whole 
army  forward,  prepared  to  follow,  when 
a  British  soldier  came  wading;  through 

o  O 

the  water.  He  proved  to  be  a  deserter, 
and  brought  intelligence  that  Burgoyne 
was  still  in  camp,  with  the  main  body  of 
his  troops.  Glover  immediately  checked 
the  march  of  his  brigade,  and  strove  to 
call  back  Nixon  from  the  other  side  of 
the  stream. 

At  this  moment  the  fog  suddenly  lifted 
and  rolled  away,  and  the  day  became 
clear,  revealing  the  whole  British  army, 
drawn  up  in  formidable  array  before  their 
camp  on  the  heights.  Fifteen  hundred 
Americans,  under  Nixon,  had  crossed  the 


river,  and  were  now  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  full  force  of  the  enemy,  who  im 
mediately  began  a  heavy  fire  of  artillery 
and  musketry,  which  soon  drove  him  back, 
and  sent  him  with  his  scattered  brigade 
across  to  the  American  encampment, 

Morgan  and  his  riflemen,  after  their 
engagement  with  the  advanced  picket 
of  the  enemy,  had  warily  moved,  under 
cover  of  the  fog,  around  Burgoyne's  right, 
and  taken  their  position  on  some  heights 
in  its  rear,  which  they  firmly  held.  The 
brigades  of  Patterson  and  Learned,  which 
had  gone  to  the  support  of  Morgan,  also 
succeeded,  after  a  slight  skirmish  with  an 
advanced  party  of  the  British,  in  gaining 
a  strong  position  under  the  cover  of  a 
wood,  and  maintaining  it,  though  on  the 
same  side  of  the  Fishkill  with  Burgoyne's 
encampment. 

The  two  armies,  thus  drawn  close  to 
each  other,  kept  up  an  incessant  cannon 
ade  ;  but  the  British  commander,  finding 
himself  completely  hemmed  in,  and  all 
resources  of  escape  cut  off  but  the  chance 
of  relief  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  (of  which, 
after  lingering  so  long  in  anxious  expec 
tation,  he  now  at  last  abandoned  all  hope), 
was  in  despair  of  saving  his  army. 

"  A  series  of  hard  toil,"  wrote  Burgoyne 
himself;  "incessant  effort, and  stubborn  ac 
tion,  until  disabled  in  the  collateral  branch 
es  of  the  army  by  the  total  defection  of 
the  Indians  ;  the  desertion  or  the  timidity 
of  the  Canadians  and  provincials,some  indi 
viduals  excepted  ;  disappointed  in  the  last 
hope  of  any  co-operation  from  other  ar 
mies;  the  regular  troops  reduced  by  losses 
from  the  best  parts  to  thirty-five  hundred 
fighting  men,  not  two  thousand  of  which 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J 


SURRENDER  OF  GENERAL  BURGOYNE. 


571 


Oct.  !3, 


were  British  ;  only  three  days'  provisions, 
upon  short  allowance,  in  store ;  invested 
by  an  army  of  sixteen  thousand  men,  and 
no  appearance  of  retreat  remaining,  I 
called  into  council  all  the  generals,  field- 
officers,  and  captains  commanding  corps, 
and  by  their  unanimous  concurrence  and 
advice  I  was  induced  to  open  a  treaty 
with  Major-General  Gates."  While  the 
council  was  in  session,  an  eighteen-pound 
ball  passed  over  the  table,  as  there  was 
not  a  spot  of  ground  in  the  whole  British 
camp  which  was  not  exposed  to  the  fire 
of  the  Americans. 

It  having  been  determined  to 

open  a  treaty,  Burgoyne  imme 
diately  wrote  a  note  to  General  Gates, 
saying  that  he  was  desirous  of  sending  a 
field-officer  "upon  a  matter  of  high  mo 
ment  to  both  armies/'  and  requesting  to 
be  informed  at  what  time  General  Gates 
would  receive  him  the  next  morning.  A 
note  in  reply  was  promptly  sent,  in  which 
Gates  appointed  ten  o'clock  as  the  hour. 
Accordingly,  next  morning,  at 

the  hour  appointed,  Major  Kings 
ton  presented  himself  at  the  American 
advanced  post,  and, being  blindfolded,  was 
led  to  headquarters,  where  he  delivered 
the  following  message  from  the  British  to 
the  American  commander:  "After  hav 
ing  fought  you  twice, Licutenant-General 
Burgoyne  lias  waited  some  days  in  his 
present  position, determined  to  try  a  third 
conflict  against  any  force  you  could  bring 
against  him.  He  is  apprized  of  the  supe 
riority  of  your  numbers,  and  the  disposi- 

«/  V 

tion  of  your  troops  to  impede  his  sup 
plies,  and  render  his  retreat  a  scene  of  | 
carnaire  on  both  sides.     In  this  situation  | 


Oct.  14, 


he  is  impelled  by  humanity,  and  thinks 
himself  justified  by  established  principles 
and  precedents  of  state  and  war,  to  spare 
the  lives  of  brave  men  upon  honorable 
terms.  Should  Major-General  Gates  be 
inclined  to  treat  upon  that  idea,  General 
Burgoyne  would  propose  a  cessation  of 
arms  during  the  time  necessary  to  com 
municate  the  preliminary  terms  by  which, 
in  any  extremity,  he  and  his  army  mean 
to  abide." 

Gates  was  prepared  with  his  answer  in 
advance  ;  and,  as  soon  as  Major  Kingston 
had  done,  the  general  put  his  hand  into 
his  side-pocket,  and,  pulling  out  a  paper, 
said,  "  There,  sir,  are  the  terms  on  which 
General  Burgoyne  must  surrender."*  The 
major  was  somewhat  taken  by  surprise 
at  the  promptness  of  the  reply,  but  read 
the  paper,  while  Gates  surveyed  him  cu 
riously  through  his  spectacles.  Kingston 
was  not  pleased  with  the  terms,  which 
proposed,  "  as  Burgoyne's  retreat  was  cut 
off,"  an  unconditional  surrender  of  his 
troops  as  prisoners-of-war ;  and  he  at  first 
objected  to  convey  them  to  the  British 
commander,  but  was  finally  prevailed  up 
on.  Kingston  soon  came  back  with  a  nea:- 

o  o 

ative  answer,  and  word  from  his  general 
that  he  would  never  admit  that  his  re 
treat  was  cut  off  while  his  troops  had  arms 
in  their  hands.  Hostilities  in  the  mean 
time  ceased;  and  other  proposals  were 
then  made,  and  passed  backward  and  for 
ward,  when  finally,  after  a  two  or  three 
days'  delay,  the  following  terms  were 
agreed  upon :  — 

General  Burgoyne's  troops  were  to 
march  out  of  their  camp  with  all  the  hon- 

*  Wilkinson. 


572 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


Oct.  15. 


ors  of  war;  and  the  artillery  to  be  moved 
to  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  river,  and 
there  left,  together  with  the  soldiers' arms, 
which  were  to  be  piled  at  the  word  of 
command  from  their  own  officers.  It  was 
agreed  that  a  free  passage  to  Great  Britain 
should  be  granted  to  the  troops,  on  condi 
tion  of  their  not  serving  again  in  the  pres 
ent  contest ;  that  all  officers  should  retain 
their  ba^nge  and  side-arms,  and  not  be 

GOO  7 

separated  from  their  men ;  and  that  all, 
of  whatever  country  they  might  be,  fol 
lowing  the  camp,  should  be  included  in 
the  terms  of  capitulation. 

The  conditions  of  the  surren 
der  being  settled,  the  two  gener 
als  were  preparing  to  sign  and  carry  out 
the  terms  of  the  treaty,  and  about  to  ex 
change  signatures,  when  Burgoyne  sent 
word  to  Gates  that  it  had  been  unguard 
edly  called  a  treaty  of  capitulation,  while 
his  army  only  meant  it  as  a  treaty  of  con 
vention.  Gates,  without  hesitation,  admit 
ted  the  alteration  ;  and  the  next  day  (the 
IGth)  he  was  expecting  to  receive  from 
the  British  commander  a  copy  of  the  con 
vention,  properly  signed,  when  instead  a 
note  arrived,  in  which  Burgoyne,  having 
heard  of  the  departure  of  some  of  the 
American  militia  (who,  with  their  usual  in 
dependence,  had  gone  off  without  leave), 
declared  he  had  "  received  intelligence 
that  a  considerable  force  had  been  de 
tached  from  the  army  under  the  command 
of  Major-General  Gates"  during  the  ne 
gotiation,  and  in  violation  of  the  cessation 
of  arms  agreed  upon.  This  gave  rise  to 
another  delay;  and,  in  the  meanwhile, 
word  was  at  last  received  at  the  British 
headquarters  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 


Burgoyne  immediately  called  a  coun 
cil  of  war,  and  submitted  to  it  the  ques 
tion  "  whether  it  was  consistent  with  pub 
lic  faith,  and  if  so,  expedient,  to  suspend 
the  execution  of  the  treaty,  and  trust  to 
events."  At  this  anxious  moment  there 
were  those  in  the  British  camp  who,  hav 
ing,  during  the  cessation  of  hostilities,  mo 
mentarily  enjoyed  the  blessings  of  repose 
and  security,  were  in  fearful  alarm  lest 
they  should  soon  be  again  awakened  to 
the  horrors  of  the  battle-field. 

"  One  day,"  says  the  baroness  Reidesel, 
"  a  message  was  sent  to  my  husband,  who 
had  visited  me  and  was  reposing  in  my 
bed,  to  attend  a  council  of  war,  where  it 
was  proposed  to  break  the  convention ; 
but,  to  my  great  joy,  the  majority  was  for 
adhering  to  it.  On  the  IGth,  however, 
my  husband  had  to  repair  to  his  post,  and 
I  to  my  cellar.  This  day  fresh  beef  was 
served  out  to  the  officers,  who  until  now 
had  only  salt  provision,  which  was  very 
bad  for  their  wounds.  The  good  woman 
who  brought  us  water,  made  us  an  excel 
lent  soup  of  the  meat,  but  I  had  lost  my 
appetite,  and  took  nothing  but  crusts  of 
bread  dipped  in  wine.  The  wounded  offi 
cers  (my  unfortunate  companions)  cut  oil 
the  best  bit  and  presented  it  to  me  on  a. 
plate.  I  declined  eating  anything;  but 
they  contended  that  it  was  necessary  for 
me  to  take  nourishment,  and  declared 
they  would  not  touch  a  morsel  until  I 
afforded  them  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me 
partake.  I  could  no  longer  withstand 
their  pressing  invitations,  accompanied  as 
they  were  by  assurances  of  the  happiness 
they  had  in  offering  me  the  first  good 
thing  they  had  in  their  power ;  and  1  par- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  BURGOYNE  AND  GATES. 


573 


took  of  a  repast  rendered  palatable  by 
the  kindness  and- good  will  of  my  fellow- 
sufferers,  forgetting  for  the  moment  the 
misery  of  our  apartment  and  the  absence 
of  almost  every  comfort." 

The  British  commander-in-chief.  though 

7  O 

himself  inclined  to  believe  that  he  might 
honorably  withdraw  from  the  convention, 
yielded  to  the  majority  of  his  officers,  and 
signed  it  on  the  17th  of  October.  This 
was  a  happy  moment  for  the  baroness 
Reidesel.  "  General  Burgoyne  and  the 
other  generals,"  she  says,  "  waited  on  the 
American  general ;  the  troops  laid  down 
their  arms,  and  gave  themselves  up  pris- 
oners-of-war.  And  now  the  good  woman 
who  had  supplied  us  with  water,  at  the 
hazard  of  her  life,  received  the  reward  of 
her  services.  Each  of  us  threw  a  hand 
ful  of  money  into  her  apron,  and  she  got 
altogether  about  twenty  guineas.  At 
such  a  moment  as  this,  how  susceptible 
is  the  heart  of  feelings  of  gratitude !" 

The  deputy  adjutant-general,  Wilkin 
son,  was  the  master  of  ceremonies  chosen 
to  conduct  the  formalities  of  the  surren 
der.  He  accordingly  visited  General  Bur 
goyne  in  his  camp,  and  returned 
with  him  to  present  him  to  Gen 
eral  Gates.  The  British  commander  came 
dressed  in  a  rich  royal  uniform,  and  sur 
rounded  by  a  brilliant  staff  of  officers,  all 
mounted  on  horseback.  On  reaching  the 
American  head  quarters,  General  Gates,  in 
"  a  plain  blue  frock,"  was  on  the  ground, 
ready  to  receive  his  visiters,  who,  having 
approached  within  about  a  sword's  length 
of  him,  reined  up  their  horses.  At  this 
moment,  General  Burgoyne,  '•'  raising  his 
hat  most  gracefully,  said,  '  The  fortune  of 


Get,  17, 


war,  General  Gates,  has  made  me  your 
prisoner ;'  to  which  the  conqueror,  return 
ing  a  courtly  salute,  replied, '  I  shall  al 
ways  be  ready  to  bear  testimony  that  it 
has  not  been  through  any  fault  of  your 
excellency.' " 

General  Gates  acted  with  great  courte 
sy  throughout,  during  these  occurrences, 
so  trying  to  the  sensibilities  of  the  brave 
soldier.  Wilkinson  was  the  only  Ameri 
can  who  was  allowed  to  witness  the  sur 
render  of  the  British  army.  The  spot 
having  been  first  selected  by  him,  Gener 
al  Burgoyne's  troops  were  drawn  up  on 
the  level  ground  in  front  of  Fort  Hardy, 
on  the  north  bank  of  the  Fishkill,  where 
that  stream  joins  with  the  Hudson.  Here 
the  soldiers  emptied  their  cartridge-boxes 
and  grounded  their  arms  at  the  word  of 
command  from  their  own  officers.  The 
place  was  within  sight  of  the  American 
encampment;  but  Gates,  with  a  courteous 
regard  for  the  feelings  of  his  gallant  ene 
my,  took  care  to  order  every  man  to  keep 
within  the  lines,  that  there  should  be  no 
exulting  witness  of  the  humiliation  of  the 
British  troops. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  American  army 
was  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  bordering  the 
road  which  led  to  their  encampment  to 
the  extent  of  a  mile.  The  British  troops 
now  crossed  the  river,  and,  escorted  by  a 
company  of  light  dragoons,  were  inarched 
between  the  American  soldiers,  preceded 
by  two  American  officers,  unfurling  for 
the  first  time  the  "stars  and  stripes;"* 

*  In  June,  1777,  Congress  first  resolved  that  "the  stars 
and  stripes"  should  Ixi  used,  but  not  unfurled  until  Septem 
her.  Previously  the  flag  was  the  union  one,  with  the  com 
bined  crosses  of  St.  George  and  St.  Andrew,  and  thirteen 
stripes,  alternately  red  and  white. 


574 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


while  the  bands  struck  up  the  lively  tune 
of  " Yankee  Doodle"  Burgoyne,  attended 
by  his  staff,  was  with  Gates,  in  front  of 
his  marquee ;  and,  at  the  moment  when 
his  troops  were  filing  between  the  Ameri 
can  lines,he  stepped  back,  drew  his  sword, 
and  presented  it  to  his  victorious  oppo 
nent.  Gates  received  the  sword  with  a 
courteous  acknowledgment,  and  immedi 
ately  returned  it,  when  the  two  generals 
retired  within  the  tent. 

The  foreign  soldiers,  especially  those 
of  Germany,  who  had  been  drilled  in  all 
the  stiff  formalities  of  Prussian  military 
regulation,  were  struck  with  the  undress 
appearance  of  the  American  troops  ;  they 
observed  that  none  of  them  were  uniform 
ly  clad,  but  that  each  had  on  the  clothes 
he  had  worn  in  "  the  fields,  the  church,  or 
the  tavern."  They  could  not,  however, 
withhold  their  admiration  of  the  natural 
good  looks  of  "  such  a  handsome,  well- 
formed  race,"  and  were  surprised  at  their 
conduct.  "The  men  all  stood  so  still, 
that  we  were  filled  with  wonder.  Not 
one  of  them  made  a  single  motion  as  if 
he  would  speak  with  his  neighbor,"  was 
the  testimony  of  one  of  the  Brunswick- 
ers.*  The  officers,  in  their  motley  dres 
ses —  some  in  brown  turned  up  with  sea- 
green,  some  in  buff-and-blue,somein  home 
ly  gniy,but  most  in  old-fashioned  unkempt 
wigs  and  every-day  dress,  with  only  a 
white  belt  to  distinguish  their  rank  in 
the  army  —  were  the  objects  of  great  won 
der  and  hardly-suppressed  merriment  to 
the  German  military  martinets/}* 

Let  us  again  trace  the  fortunes  of  that 
gentle  and  noblest  of  camp-followers,  the 


Quoted  by  Irving. 


tlb. 


baroness  Reidesel: "  My  husband's  groom," 
she  says,  "  brought  me  a  message  to  join 
him  with  my  children.  I  seated  myself 
once  more  in  my  dear  calash,  and  then 
rode  through  the  American  camp.  As  I 
passed  on, I  observed  (and  this  was  a  great 
consolation  to  me)  that  no  one  eyed  me 
with  looks  of  resentment,  but  that  they 
all  greeted  us,  and  even  showed  compas 
sion  in  their  countenances  at  the  sight  of 
a  mother  with  her  children.  I  was.  I  con 
fess,  afraid  to  go  over  to  the  enemy,  as  it 
was  something  quite  new  to  me.  When 
I  drew  near  the  tents,  a  handsome  man 
approached  and  met  me,  took  my  children 
from  the  calash,  and  hugged  and  kissed 
them,  which  affected  me  almost  to  tears. 
'You  tremble,'  said  he,  as  he  offered  me 
his  arm  ;  <  be  not  afraid.' — '  No,'  I  replied, 
'you  seem  so  kind  and  tender  to  my  chil 
dren,  it  gives  me  courage.'  He  then  con 
ducted  me  to  the  tent  of  General  Gates, 
where  I  found  Generals  Burgoyne  and 
Phillips  on  the  most  friendly  footing  with 
him.  General  Burgoyne  said  to  me, i  Nev 
er  mind  now,  your  sorrows  are  all  over.' 
I  replied  that  I  should  be  much  to  blame 
to  have  anxieties  when  he  had  none,  and 
was  on  such  friendly  terms  with  General 
Gates. 

"All  the  generals  remained  to  dine 
with  General  Gates.  The  same  gentle 
man  who  had  received  me  so  kindly  now 
came  and  said  to  me  :  '  You  may  feel  em 
barrassed  in  dining  with  all  these  gentle 
men;  come  with  your  children  to  my  tent, 
where  you  will  find  a  frugal  meal  offered 
with  the  best  will.'  I  replied,  '  You  must 
certainly  be  a  husband  and  a  father,  you 
show  me  so  much  kindness.'  He  now 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       THE  BARONESS  REIDESEL  AND  GENERAL  SCHUYLER.         575 


told  me  that  he  was  General  Schuyler. 
He  regaled  me  with  excellent  smoked 
tongue,  beefsteaks,  potatoes,  and  good 
bread  and  butter.  I  could  riot  have  de 
sired  a  better  dinner.  I  was  happy  and 
contented,  and  saw  that  those  about  me 
were  so  likewise ;  and,  what  was  best  of 
all,  my  husband  was  out  of  danger. 

"After  dinner,  General  Schuyler  told 
me  that  his  residence  was  at  Albany,  that 
General  Burgoyne  had  promised  to  be 
come  his  guest,  and  invited  myself  and 
children  also.  I  consulted  my  husband, 
and  he  advised  me  to  accept  the  invita 
tion.  General  Schuyler  politely  sent  me 
back  under  the  escort  of  a  French  gen 
tleman,  who,  after  leaving  me  at  the  house 
where  I  was  to  remain,  went  back. 

"In  the  house  I  found  a  French  sur 
geon,  who  had  under  his  care  a  Bruns 
wick  officer,  who  was  mortally  wounded, 
and  died  a  few  days  afterward.  The 
Frenchman  boasted  a  good  deal  of  his 
treatment  of  his  patient,  and  possibly  was 
skilful  enough  as  a  surgeon,  but  otherwise 
a  great  fool.  He  seemed  delighted  when 
he  discovered  I  could  speak  his  language. 
He  began  to  address  many  empty  and 
impertinent  speeches  to  me.  Among  oth 
er  things,  he  said  he  could  not  believe  I 
was  a  general's  wife,  as  he  was  certain  a 
woman  of  such  rank  would  not  follow  her 
husband.  He  expressed  the  wish  that  I 
would  remain  with  him,  as  he  said  it  was 
better  to  be  with  the  conquerors  than  the 
conquered.  I  was  shocked  at  his  impu 
dence,  but  dared  not  show  the  contempt 
and  detestation  I  felt  for  him,  because  it 
would  deprive  me  of  a  place  of  safety. 
Toward  evening  he  begged  me  to  take 


part  of  his  chamber.  I  told  him  that  I 
was  determined  to  remain  in  the  room 
with  the  wounded  officers,  when  he  at 
tempted  to  pay  me  some  stupid  compli 
ment.  At  this  moment  the  door  opened, 
and  my  husband  with  his  aid-de-camp  en 
tered.  I  then  said, l  Here,  sir,  is  my  hus 
band  !'  and  at  the  snme  moment  looked  at 
him  with  scorn,  wrhen  he  retired  abashed. 
He  was,  however,  polite  enough  to  offer 
us  his  chamber. 

"Soon  after,  we  arrived  at  Albany — 
where  \ve  had  so  often  wished  ourselves 
—  but  we  did  not  enter  it  as  we  expected 
we  should,  victors.  We  were  received  by 
the  good  General  Schuyler,  his  wife,  and 
daughters,  not  as  enemies  but  kind  friends, 
and  they  treated  us  with  the  most  marked 
attention  and  politeness,  as  they  did  Gen 
eral  Burgoyne,  who  had  caused  General 
Schuyler's  handsome  house  to  be  burned. 
In  fact,  they  behaved  like  persons  of  ex 
alted  minds,  who  were  determined  to  bury 
all  recollection  of  their  own  injuries  in 
the  contemplation  of  our  misfortunes. 

"  General  Burgoyne  was  struck  with 
General  Schuyler's  generosity,  and  said 
to  him  — 

" ( You  show  me  great  kindness,  al 
though  I  have  done  you  much  injury.' 

"  '  That  was  the  fate  of  war,'  replied  the 
brave  man.  'Let  us  say  no  more  about 
it.' " 

Burgoyne  was  not  unmindful  of  Schuy 
ler's  generous  hospitality  and  chivalrous 
courtesy,  and  took  occasion  on  his  return 
to  England,  where  he  resumed  his  place 
in  the  Parliament,  to  acknowledge,  in  the 
presence  of  the  assembled  British  senate, 
his  sense  of  gratitude. 


576 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


The  whole  British  force  which  surren 
dered  at  Saratoga  amounted  to  five  thou 
sand  seven  hundred  and  ninety-one  men, 
of  whom  two  thousand  four  hundred  and 
twelve  were  Germans.  A  train  of  brass 
artillery,  consisting  of  forty-two  cannon, 
howitzers,  and  mortars,  and  four  thousand 
six  hundred  and  forty-seven  muskets,  to 
gether  with  a  large  supply  of  ammunition, 
fell  into  the  possession  of  the  Americans. 
Among  the  British  officers  who  had  sur 
rendered  were  some  of  the  most  distin 
guished  Englishmen.  There  were  six 
among  them  who  were  members  of  Par 
liament.  The  prisoners  were  subsequent 
ly  removed  to  Boston,  where  they  re 
mained  under  the  especial  guard  of  Gen 
eral  Heath  and  the  garrison  under  his 
command. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Gates  hastened  to 
Albany,  in  order  to  encounter  the  British 
troops  advancing  up  the  Hudson  under 
the  command  of  General  Vaughan.  But 
when  Sir  Henry  Clinton  heard  of  Bur- 
goyne's  surrender,  he  immediately  re 
called  Vaughan  (who  had  reached  within 
only  four  hours'  sail  of  Albany),  and  with 
drew  all  his  force  from  the  river  to  New 
York. 

Major  Wilkinson  was  despatched  with 
the  report  of  the  America,!!  triumph  to 
Congress,  then  in  session  at  Yorktown. 
He  was  received  with  great  honor,  and 
had  the  rank  of  brigadier-general  imme 
diately  bestowed  upon  him,  in  accordance 
with  the  recommendation  of  Gates,  who 
also  received  every  tribute  which  a  grate 
ful  people  could  give.  Gates's  military 
reputation  was  now  at  its  height,  and  the 
esteem  of  his  friends  and  his  own  vanity 


led  him  to  entertain  hopes  of  the  chief 
command  of  the  patriot  armies. 

The  success  at  Saratoga  was  a  great 
triumph  for  the  American  cause.  Creasy 
has  justly  ranked  Gates's  victory  as  one 
among  "  the  fifteen  decisive  battles  of  the 
world."  The  Americans  themselves  were 
now  more  sanguine  than  ever  of  achiev 
ing  their  independence,  and  their  luke 
warm  advocates  in  Europe  at  once  be 
came  staunch  friends.  When  news  first 
reached  France  of  the  triumphant  march 
of  Burgoyne  from  the  North,  the  French 
government  immediately  despatched  in 
structions  to  Nantz  and  other  seaports  of 
the  kingdom,  that  not  an  American  pri 
vateer  should  be  allowed  -to  enter  them, 
except  in  case  of  indispensable  necessity, 
for  repairs  or  provisions.  Franklin,  Ad 
ams,  and  Deaue,  the  American  commis 
sioners  at  Paris,  were  about  leaving  that 
city  in  disgust  with  the  selfish  conduct 
of  the  French  government,  when  the  in 
telligence  arrived  of  Burgoyne's  surren 
der.  Now  all  was  changed,  and  France 
unhesitatingly  came  to  the  aid  of  a  peo 
ple  who  had  proved  that  they  were  so 
well  able  to  defend  themselves.  She  was 
ready  to  make  a  treaty,  lend  her  money, 
send  a  fleet  and  troops,  or  do  anything 
by  which  to  strengthen  the  power  of  her 
new  ally  in  striking  the  destined  blow 
against  her  old  enemy.  In  December 
following  the  memorable  month  of  Sep 
tember  a  treaty  was  arranged,  and  in  Feb 
ruary,  1778,  the  minister  of  Louis  XVI. 
signed  it,  and  acknowledged  the  independ 
ent  United  States.  French  fleets,  and  troops, 
and  money,  soon  gave  proof  of  the  sin 
cerity  of  French  promises,  and  hastened 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         EARLS  COVENTRY  AND  CHATHAM  ON  AMERICA. 


577 


the  consummation  of  the  hopes  of  Amer 
ica.  Spain  and  Holland,  soon  afterward, 
acknowledged  the  independence  of  the 
"UNITED  STATES;"  and  England  was  left 
alone  to  struggle  in  her  obstinate  pride 
against  the  inevitable  fate  which  was  to 
sever  for  ever  the  American  colonies  from 
her  dominion.,  but  only  to  bind  the  great 
nation  of  the  West  in  firmer  ties  of  inter 
est,  if  not  of  friendship,  with  Great  Brit 
ain. 

Even  in  England,  the  steadfast  friends 
of  the  American  cause  saw  its  final  tri 
umph  in  the  failure  of  Burgoyne's  cam 
paign,  and  boldly  declared  it.  "Attend," 
said  the  earl  of  Coventry,  in  the  house  of 
lords,  with  the  spirit  and  solemn  utter 
ance  of  a  prophet,  "  to  the  vast  extent  of 
the  one  [America],  and  the  diminutive 
figure  of  Britain;  to  their  domestic  situ 
ations  ;  to  the  increase  of  population  in 
the  one,  and  the  inevitable  decline  of  it 
in  the  other ;  the  luxury,  dissipation,  and 
all  the  concomitant  effects,  in  this  coun 
try,  and  the  frugality,  industry,  and  con 
sequent  wise  policy,  of  America.  These, 
my  lords,  were  the  main  grounds  on  which 
I  presumed  to  trouble  you  from  time  to 
time  on  this  subject.  I  foresaiu  then,  as  I 
continue  to  do,  that  a  period  must  arrive  when 
America  tuould  render  herself  independent; 
that  this  country  would  fall,  and  the  seat  of 
empire  be  removed  beyond  the  Atlantic  /" 

The  great  earl  of  Chatham  rose  feebly 
upon  his  crutch,  but  there  came  from  his 
ardent  heart  and  eloquent  lips  the  same 
full  gush,  as  of  old,  of  generous  sentiment 
and  burning  words.  "  You  can  not,"  he 
73 


exclaimed,  "I  venture  to  say  it,  you  can 
not  conquer  America. . . .  You  may  swell  ev 
ery  expense,  and  every  effort,  still  more 
extravagantly ;  pile  and  accumulate  ev 
ery  assistance  you  can  buy  or  borrow ; 
traffic  and  barter  with  every  little  pitiful 
German  prince,  that  sells  and  sends  his 
subjects  to  the  shambles  of  a  foreign  po 
tentate  :  your  efforts  are  for  ever  vain  and 
impotent — doubly  so  from  this  mercena 
ry  aid  on  which  you  rely ;  for  it  irritates 
to  an  incurable  resentment  the  minds  of 
your  enemies,  to  overrun  them  with  the 
mercenary  sons  of  rapine  and  plunder — 
devoting  them  and  their  possessions  to 
hireling  cruelty  !  If  I  ivere  an  American, 
as  I  am  an  Englishman,  ivhile  a  foreign  troop 
ivas  landed  in  my  country,  1  never  would  lay 

down  my  arms — never — never — never! 

You  can  not  conciliate  America  by  your 
present  measures;  you  can  not  subdue 
her  by  any  measures.  What,  then,  can 
you  do  ?  You  can  not  conquer,  you  can 
not  gain  :  but  you  can  address — you  can 
lull  the  fears  and  anxieties  of  the  mo 
ment  into  an  ignorance  of  the  danger 
that  should  produce  them.  But,  my  lords, 
the  time  demands  the  language  of  truth  : 
we  must  not  now  apply  the  flattering  unc 
tion  of  servile  compliance  or  blind  com 
plaisance.  In  a  just  and  necessary  war, 
to  maintain  the  right  or  honor  of  my  coun 
try,  I  would  strip  the  shirt  from  my  back 
to  support  it;  but  in  such  a  war  as  this, 
unjust  in  its  principle,  impracticable  in  its 
means,  and  ruinous  in  its  consequences, 
I  would  not  contribute  a  single  effort  or 
a  single  shilling !" 


578 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


n. 


CHAPTER    LXII. 

Retreat  of  Washington  to  Germantown. — Slow  Advance  of  General  Howe. — Ho  crosses  the  Sehuylkill. — Storm  versus 
Battle. — Succe>s  of  General  Grey,  and  Defeat  of  Wayne. — The  British  ahead. — A  Forced  Contribution. — The  Scru 
pulous  Washington. — Forts  and  Obstructions  on  the  Delaware. — Franklin's  Ingenuity. — Entry  of  the  British  into 
Philadelphia. — The  Show. — The  Officers  described. — Adjournment  and  Removal  of  Congress. — The  British  Fleet  in 
the  Delaware. — General  Howe  sends  out  a  Force  to  co-operate. — Attack  on  Germantown — Washington's  Plans. — Pre 
liminary  Skirmish. — The  Enemy  driven  back. — Musgrave  in  Chew's  House. — General  Knox  on  Tactics. — Panic  of  the 
Americans. — Their  Retreat. — Almost  a  Victory. — Pursuit  by  the  British. — The  Losses  on  Both  Sides. 


1777. 


Sept.  13. 


WASHINGTON,  after  the  battle  of 
the  Brandywine,  collected  his  scat 
tered  troops  at  Chester,  and  then  contin 
ued  his  retreat,  marching  through  Derby, 
crossing  the  Schuylkill,  and  finally  halt 
ing  to  refresh  his  army  at  Ger 
mantown,  within  six  miles  of 
Philadelphia.  Sir  William  Howe,  as  usu 
al,  was  dilatory,  and  for  several  days  con 
tented  himself  with  merely  sending  for 
ward  detachments  to  take  possession  of 
Concord,  Chester,  and  Wilmington. 

While  in  camp  at  Germantown,  Wash 
ington  detached  a  part  of  the  militia,  un 
der  General  Armstrong,  with  the  aid  of 
General  Joseph  Reed  (who  had  volun 
teered  his  services,  as  he  was  familiar  with 
the  country),  to  throw  up  redoubts  on 
the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  and  occupy 
the  eastern  or  Philadelphia  side  of  the 
river,  while  he  himself  should  cross  with 
his  main  body,  to  oppose  the  advance  of 
the  enemy.  The  cominander-in-chief  re 
mained  but  twenty-four  hours  in  German- 
town  ;  and  then,  having  ordered  General 
Putnam  to  send  him  a  detachment  of  fif 
teen  hundred  continental  troops  from  his 
post  on  the  Hudson,  he  returned  across 


the  Schuylkill  river,  and,  taking  the  Lan 
caster  road,  determined  to  offer  battle  to 
General  Howe. 

The  British  commander,  however,  had 
suddenly  become  unusually  alert,  and  by  a 
quick  movement  had  reached  the  Schuyl 
kill,  and  crossed  it,  on  his  way  to  Phila 
delphia,  after  Washington  had  advanced 
to  give  him  battle  on  the  opposite  side. 
The  two  armies  were,  in  fact,  upon  the 
point  of  coming  to  an  engagement  pre 
vious  to  Howe's  crossing  the  river,  but 
were  prevented  by  a  most  violent  storm 
of  rain,  which  continued  a  whole  day  and 
niii'ht.  When  the  weather  cleared,  it  was 

o 

discovered  that  all  the  muskets  were  un 
fitted  for  service,  and  that  the  ammuni 
tion,  of  which  each  man  had  been  supplied 
with  forty  rounds,  was  entirely  ruined! 
Nothing  now  was  to  be  done  but  to  saek 
out  a  strong  piece  of  ground  where  the 
troops  might  be  secure,  while  the  arms 
were  being  put  in  order,  and  a  fresh  sup 
ply  of  ammunition  obtained.  Washing 
ton  had  encamped  for  this  purpose  near 
Warwick,  on  French  creek,  when  General 
Howe  succeeded  in  his  manoeuvre  of  cros 
sing  the  Schuylkill;  not, however,  without 


REVOLUTIONARY.]     WAYNE'S  DEFEAT.— HOWE  APPROACHES  PHILADELPHIA.     579 


an  attempt  to  harass  his  rear.  General 
Wayne,  with  fifteen  hundred  men,  was 
sent  off  in  the  night.,  in  order  to  take  the 
enemy  by  surprise.  But  his  purpose  hav 
ing  been  detected,  Howe  detached  a  large 
force  under  General  Grey,  who,  coming 
suddenly  upon  the  Americans,  and  charg 
ing  them  with  the  bayonet,  drove  them 
from  their  covert  in  the  woods,  with  the 
loss  of  two  or  three  hundred  men. 

"  They  had  so  far  got  the  start,"  wrote 
Washington,  "  before  I  received  certain 
intelligence  that  any  considerable  num 
ber  had  crossed,  that  I  found  it  in  vain  to 
think  of  overtaking  their  rear  with  troops 
harassed  as  ours  had  been  with  constant 
marching  since  the  battle  of  Brandy  wine." 
The  men  were  so  destitute  of  clothing, 
and  particularly  of  shoes,  that  the  want 
of  this  last  essential  article  was  a  very  se 
rious  obstruction  to  the  progress  of  the 
army.  No  less  than  one  thousand  of  the 
American  soldiers  were  barefooted,  and 
forced  to  march  in  that  condition  !  Shoes 
and  blankets  were  now  the  great  deside 
rata,  and  to  obtain  them  Washington  was 
(painful  though  he  confesses  it  to  have 
been)  obliged  to  extort  a  forced  contri 
bution  from  the  inhabitants  of  Philadel 
phia.  His  young  aid-de-camp,  Colonel 
Alexander  Hamilton,  was  sent  forward  as 
the  agent  in  this  unpleasant  business;  but 
the  commander-in-chief  took  care  to  en 
join  upon  him  the  utmost  delicacy  and 
discretion  in  its  execution. 

General  Howe  was  now  sure  of  Phila 
delphia,  toward  which  city  he  immediate 
ly  marched;  but  Washington  strove  to 
make  his  situation  there  as  little  "agree 
able"  as  possible.  He  hoped  to  cut  oil' 


Howe's  supplies  by  land  and  by  water, 
and  was  disposed  to  think  that  the  acqui 
sition  of  Philadelphia  might  prove  his 
ruin  instead  of  his  good  fortune.  The 
American  army  now  crossed  the  Schuyl- 
kill  at  Parker's  ford,  and  encamped  near 
Pottsgrove,  to  refresh  and  await  the  rein 
forcements  expected  from  General  Put 
nam  at  Peekskill.  In  the  hope  of  check 
ing  the  advance  to  Philadelphia  of  the 
British  fleet,  at  that  time  anchored  in  the 
Delaware,  and  of  preventing  the  co-oper 
ation  of  Admiral  Lord  Howe  with  his 
brother  the  general,  Washington  was  very 
solicitous  about  the  fortifications  and  ob 
structions  which  had  been  constructed  in 
the  river. 

Benjamin  Franklin,  before  proceeding 
to  Paris  in  his  diplomatic  capacity,  had 
already  exercised  his  manifold  ingenuity 
in  planning  works  to  be  raised  on  tho 
Delaware,  to  protect  his  adopted  city. 
Subsequently,  rows  ofckevaux-de-frise,  con 
structed  of  immense  beams  of  timber, 
bolted  together  and  stuck  full  of  iron 
spikes,  were  sunk  in  the  channel  of  the 
Delaware,  near  where  it  forms  its  junc 
tion  with  the  Schuylkill.  Above  these, 
and  about  seven  miles  from  Philadelphia, 
was  a  battery,  with  heavy  cannon,  called 
Fort  Mifflin,  situated  upon  the  flat  and 
marshy  ground  of  Mud  or  Fort  island ; 
while  opposite,  at  Red  bank,  on  the  New- 
Jersey  shore,  was  a  strong  redoubt,  with 
intrenchments,  called  Fort  Mercer,  pro 
tected  in  front  by  another  fortified  island. 
Below,  there  was  a  further  series  of  clicv- 
aux-de-frisc  in  the  channel  of  the  Delaware 
between  Billing's  island  and  Billingsport, 
at  which  latter  point,  on  the  New-Jersey 


i.  . 


530 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


]_PART     II. 


side,  there  was  also  a  strong  redoubt, 
There  were,  moreover,  several  American 
armed  vessels,  a  number  of  row-galleys, 
some  fire-ships,  and  floating  batteries,  an 
chored  to  defend  the  chevaux-de-frise,  and 
pi-event  the  approach  to  Philadelphia  by 
water. 

General  Sir  William  Howe  had  in  the 
meanwhile  encamped  at  Gerniantown, 
whence  he  sent  a  large  body  of  troops, 
under  Earl  Cornwallis,  to  take  possession 
of  Philadelphia.  Their  entry  into  the  city 
was  impressive.  The  inhabitants,  natu 
rally  in  expectation  of  violence  and  rap 
ine,  were  greatly  relieved  by  the  orderly 
conduct  of  the  enemy.  Their  houses  and 
shops  were  closed,  but  the  people,  dressed 
in  their  best  apparel,  did  not  fear  to  show 
themselves  in  the  streets.  The  British 
grenadiers,  of  "tranquil  look  and  digni 
fied  appearance,"  led  the  van,  Lord  Corn 
wallis  at  their  head,  who,  with  his  some 
what  short  and  thick-set  person,  his  ami 
able  face,  and  affable  manners,  had  no  very 
formidable  look.  The  grenadiers,  howev 
er,  were  followed  by  some  of  the  dreaded 
Hessians,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  citizens 
they  appeared  terrific.  Their  "  brass  caps, 
their  mustachios,  their  countenances,  by 
nature  rnorose,and  their  music,  that  sound 
ed  better  English  than  they  themselves 
could  speak,  ' Plunder!  plunder!  plunder /' 
gave,"  says  an  eye-witness  of  the  scene, 
'•  a  desponding,  heart-breaking  effect,  as  I 
thought,  to  all."  The  meager,  erect,  and 
sharp-featured  Hessian  general,  Knyphau- 
sen  (a  stiff  formalist  and  military  marti 
net,  though  courtly  in  his  way),  was  not 
calculated  to  relieve  the  inhabitants  from 
their  excited  apprehensions  of  his  merce 


nary  troops.  Some  of  the  more  thought 
ful  of  the  citizens  appeared  sad,  and  the 
timid  frightened  ;  but  to  the  great  mass 
the  entry  of  the  British  troops,  with  their 
gay  accoutrements  and  lively  music,  was 
a  show  upon  which  they  looked,  if  not 
with  pleasure,  certainly  with  a  cheerful 
curiosity. 

Congress  had,  on  the  advance  of  the 
British,  adjourned  to  Lancaster,  and  sub 
sequently  to  Yorktown,  beyond  the  Sus- 
quehannah  river,  where  its  members  as 
sembled,  and  continued  to  hold 

Sept,  30, 

their  sessions  as  long  as  Phila 
delphia   remained   in   possession   of  the 
enemy. 

Sir  William  Howe,  desirous  of  a  co-op 
eration  with  the  fleet,  in  order  to  secure 
supplies  for  his  army,  first  directed  his 
attention  toward  the  attainment  of  that 
object.  His  army  was,  therefore,  no  soon 
er  encamped,  than  he  began  to  erect  bat 
teries  on  the  Delaware,  near  Philadelphia. 
At  the  same  time,  he  sent  out  a  detach 
ment  of  troops,  with  orders  to  cross  the 
river  and  make  an  attempt  upon  the 
American  works  at  Billingsport,  on  the 
New-Jersey  side,  which  commanded  the 
chevaux-de-frise,  and  interfered  with  the 
advance  of  the  British  fleet  to  Philadel 
phia. 

Washington,  discovering  this  move 
ment  of  the  enemy,  and  being  reinforced 
by  fifteen  hundred  men  detached  by  Gen 
eral  Putnam,  determined  to  at- 

Sept,  27. 
tack  them  m  their  encampment 

at  Gerniantown,  as,  in  consequence  of 
their  force  being  weakened  by  the  detach 
ment  sent  out  against  Billingsport,  it  was 
thought  a  favorable  opportunity  offered. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         WASHINGTON  PLANS  AN  ATTACK  OX  HOWE. 


581 


The  commander-in-chief  was  now  at  Pen- 
nibacker's  mill,  on  the  Skippack  road, 
within  fourteen  miles  of  Germantown ; 
and  he  proposed  to  march  that  distance 
in  the  night,  and  if  possible  take  General 
Howe  by  surprise. 

To  understand  Washington's  plan  of 
attack,  it  is  necessary  to  call  to  mind  the 
position  of  Germantown.  This  place,  now 
as  it  were  a  suburb  of  Philadelphia,  was 
then  a  small  town  or  village,  about  six 
miles  northwest  from  that  city.  It  was 
chiefly  composed  of  two  rows  of  small 
houses,  extending  over  a  mile  in  distance, 
one  on  each  side  of  the  Skippack  road, 
which  ran  (forming  one  street,  bordered 
with  peach-trees)  directly  through  Ger 
mantown  from  north  to  south,  and,  before 
reaching  the  village,  passing  over  the  two 
eminences  of  Chestnut  hill  and  Mount 
Airy.  On  the  outskirts  of  Germantown, 
to  the  north,  and  situated  on  the  Skip- 
pack  road,  was  a  large  stone-house,  be 
longing  to  Chief-Justice  Chew,  a  distin 
guished  Pennsylvania^,  inclined  to  be 
whiggish,  but  rather  vacillating  in  his  po 
litical  principles.  Wissahickon  creek,  that 
empties  into  the  Schuylkill,  was,  together 
with  that  river,  at  that  time  a  rather  re 
mote  western  boundary  of  the  village. 
In  addition  to  the  Skippack  road,  which 
ran  directly  through  the  centre  of  Ger 
mantown,  there  were  three  other  roads 
which  approached  it  from  the  north  :  the 
Limekiln  and  Old  York  roads  were  on 
the  east  of  the  central  or  Skippack  road, 
and  the  Manatawny  or  Ridge  road  to  the 
west,  which, leading  between  Wissahickon 
creek  and  Schuylkill  river,  crossed  the 
former  at  the  southern  border  of  the  town. 


Howe's  encampment  stretched  diago 
nally  across  the  lower  part  of  German- 
town,  being  thus  divided  as  it  were  by 
the  main  street,  or  the  Skippack  road  ; 
to  the  west  of  which  lay  the  left  wing, 
under  General  Knyphausen,  extend  ing  to 
the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill ;  while  to  the 
east  stretched  the  right,  commanded  by 
General  Grant.  The  British  centre  occu 
pied  the  houses  in  the  main  street  or  the 
Skippack  road  —  the  village  itself,  in  fact. 
To  the  north,  there  was  posted  on  this 
road  an  advanced  guard,  consisting  of  a 
battalion  of  light-infantry  and  the  fortieth 
regiment  of  the  line.  The  left  wing  was 
covered  by  the  German  chasseurs,  horse 
and  foot,  who  were  stationed  at  "  Van 
Deering's  mill,"  on  the  Schuylkill ;  and  the 
right  was  guarded  by  the  Queen's  Rangers, 
posted  on  the  Old  York  road,  and  by  the 
light-infantry  on  the  Limekiln. 

Washington's  plan  of  attack,  as  de 
scribed  by  himself,  was,  to  march  a  divis 
ion  of  his  army  by  each  of  the  four  roads 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  led  to  German- 
town.  The  divisions  of  Generals  Sullivan 
and  Wayne,  supported  by  Conway's  bri 
gade,  were  to  enter  the  town  by  the  Skip- 
pack  road  from  the  north,  to  attack  the 
British  centre.  The  divisions  of  Greene 
and  Stephen  were  to  take  the  Limekiln 
road,  and  attack  their  right  wing  in  front ; 
while  Generals  Small  wood  and  Forman, 
with  the  Maryland  and  New-Jersey  mili 
tia,  were  to  march  by  the  Old  York  road, 
and  fall  upon  their  rear.  The  enemy's 
left,  on  the  Schuylkill,  was  reserved  for 
General  Armstrong  and  the  Pennsylvania 
militia,  who  were  to  proceed  by  the  Man 
atawny  road.  Lord  Stirling,  with  Nash's 


582 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[I'AIJT    II 


Oct.  3, 


and  Maxwell's  brigades,  was  to  form  a 
corps  de  reserve. 

The  inarch  began  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  Washing 
ton  accompanying  Sullivan's  division  in 
person.  The  distance  was  long,  the  night 
dark,  and  the  road  rough  ;  and  it  was  con 
sequently  daybreak  before  Sullivan's  ad 
vanced  guard  emerged  from  the  woods 
on  Chestnut  hill.  Here  it  was  expected 
to  find  an  advanced  picket  of  the  enemy, 
but  none  made  its  appearance.  A  detach 
ment  was  now  sent  forward  under  Cap 
tain  M'Lane,  who  led  his  men  on  cautious 
ly,  as  the  morning  was  foggy,  and  noth 
ing  could  be  seen  in  the  distance  until  he 
reached  "Allen's  house,"  on  Mount  Airy, 
where  he  fell  in  with  an  advanced  picket 
of  the  enemy  posted  there  with  two  six- 
pounders.  M'Lane  attacked  it,  and  drove 
it  down  the  hill  arid  back  to  the  body  of 
light-infantry  stationed  in  its  rear,  and 
about  two  miles  on  the  road  in  advance 
of  General  Howe's  centre  in  the  town. 
This  preliminary  skirmish  soon  aroused 
the  enemy,  and  the  whole  British  encamp 
ment  was  immediately  astir,  with  the 
drums  beating  to  arms. 

General  Wayne  hastened  for 
ward  to  sustain  M'Lane,  as  the 
British  light-infantry  presented  itself,  in 
full  force,  to  dispute  the  passage  of  the 
road.  Wayne's  troops  came  on  so  impet 
uously,  that  the  enemy  broke  before  the 
encounter.  Their  officers,  however,  re 
formed  them,  and  a  fierce  firing  ensued. 
They  were  nevertheless  forced  from  their 
ground ;  but,  being  supported  by  the 
grenadiers,  they  came  up  once  more,  and 
renewed  the  struggle  with  great  spirit. 


Get,  4, 


Sullivan's  division  and  Conway's  brigade 
now  arrived  to  the  aid  of  Wayne,  when 
the  British  were  unable  to  hold  their  po 
sition,  and  were  forced  back,  struggling 
awhile  as  they  retired  ;  but  Wayne's  men 
charged  them  so  fiercely  with  the  bayo 
net,  that  they  finally  fled  for  their  lives, 
hard  pushed  by  the  Americans,  and  beg 
ging  for  mercy,  but  receiving  none.  At 
this  juncture,  however,  Colonel  Musgrave, 
with  six  companies  of  the  fortieth  regi 
ment,  succeeded  as  he  retreated  in  get 
ting  possession  of  Chew's  large  stone 
house. 

While  Wayne,  with  the  advanced  body, 
continued  to  pursue  the  retreating  British 
into  Germantown,  the  remainder  of  the 
Americans  were  brought  to  a  halt  by  Colo 
nel  Musgrave,.  This  officer  had  barricaded 
the  doors  of  Chew's  house,  and  from  the 
windows  his  light-infantry  kept  up  a  mur 
derous  fire  upon  their  pursuers.  A  dis 
cussion  now  took  place  among  the  Ameri 
can  officers.  Some  were  in  favor  of  storm 
ing  the  house,  and  others  were  opposed  to 
the  consequent  delay.  General  Reed  was 
for  pushing  on  ;  General  Knox,  of  the  ar 
tillery,  however,  contended  that  it  was 
contrary  to  fill  military  precedent  to  leave 
"  a  fort,"  possessed  by  the  enemy,  in  the 
rear.  "  What !"  exclaimed  Heed,  "  call  that 
<a  fort,'  and  lose  the  happy  moment?" 
Kuox's  opinion,  nevertheless,  prevailed  ; 
and,  that  everything  might  be  done  ac 
cording  to  the  "  rules  of  war,"  it  was  de 
termined  to  send  a  summons  to  the  com 
mander  of  "  the  fort"  to  surrender.  A 
youth  was  therefore  sent  with  a  flag  in 
due  form ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  reached 
within  musket-range,  than  he  was  shot 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  GERMANTOWN. 


583 


dead.  The  artillery  was  now  brought  up, 
but  even  cannon-balls  proved  ineffectual. 
Attempts  were  at  last  made  to  set  fire  to 
the  house.  Some  with  bundles  of  straw, 
and  others  with  firebrands  of  pine-wood, 
made  their  way  amid  a  shower  of  bullets 
to  the  lower  part  of  the  building,  where 
they  strove  to  effect  their  purpose ;  but 
Musgvave's  men  were  on  the  alert,  and, 
getting  into  the  cellar  of  the  house,  shot 
down  each  man  before  he  could  accom 
plish  his  object.  A  half-hour  was  thus 
lost  in  these  vain  and  absurd  efforts  to 
carry  out  Knox's  formal  tactics,  and  the 
rear  of  Sullivan's  division  was  prevented 
from  giving  that  aid  to  General  Wayne 
which  might  have  proved  of  effective 
service. 

General  Sullivan,  however,  in  spite  of 
this  delay  of  a  part  of  his  troops,  being 
reinforced  by  Nash's  and  Conway's  bri 
gades,  succeeded,  by  leaving  the  Skip- 
pack  road,  crossing  a  field,  and  marching 
rapidly  for  a  mile,  in  coming  up  with  the 
left  of  the  enemy,  and  by  a  vigorous  at 
tack  forcing  it  to  retire. 

The  divisions  of  Generals  Greene  and 
Stephen  had,  in  accordance  with  Wash 
ington's  plan,  gained  the  Limekiln  road  ; 
but  the  latter  having  diverged,  to  assist 
in  the  attack  on  Chew's  house,  Greene 
was  left  to  march  against  the  enemy's 
right  with  none  but  his  own  troops,  con 
sisting  of  Scott's  and  Muhlenberg's  bri 
gades.  He  succeeded,  however,  in  dri 
ving  an  advanced  guard  of  light-infantry 
before  him,  and  in  making  his  way  to  the 
market-house  in  the  town,  where  the  Brit 
ish  right  wing,  under  General  Grant,  was 
posted.  Greene  began  the  attack  with 


spirit;  and,  as  Forman  and  Smallwood, 
with  the  militia  of  New  Jersey  and  Ma 
ryland,  were  rapidly  getting  by  the  Old 
York  road  to  the  rear  of  the  British  right, 
there  was  every  prospect  of  success.  At 
this  moment,  however,  whether  from  the 
complicated  nature  of  the  plan,  the  thick 
fog,  or  the  mere  nervous  excitement  of 
the  troops,  a  general  panic  seized  upon 
the  Americans.  A  great  confusion  now 
prevailed,  and  friend  was  mistaken  for 
foe.  General  Wayne's  division,  in  the 
heat  of  pursuit,  was  suddenly  turned  and 
put  to  flight  by  the  approach  on  its  flank 
of  some  American  troops  which  were  be 
lieved  to  be  those  of  the  enemy.  Ste 
phen's  division,  too,  was  thrown  into  dis 
order  by  making  the  same  mistake  in  re 
gard  to  Wayne's  corps.  Sullivan's  men, 
having  shot  their  last  round  of  ammuni 
tion,  had  also  been  panic-struck  by  the 
cry  that  the  enemy  were  surrounding 
them.  "  In  the  midst,"  said  Washington, 
"of  the  most  promising  appearances,  when 
everything  gave  the  most  flattering  hopes 
of  victory,  the  troops  began  suddenly  to 
retreat,  and  entirely  left  the  field,  in  spite 
of  every  effort  that  could  be  made  to  rally 
them." 

It  was  not  known  until  afterward  how 
near  the  Americans  were  of  gaining  a  com 
plete  victory.  The  action  had  lasted  two 
hours  and  forty  minutes,  and  the  enemy 
had  been  so  hard  pressed,  that  they  were 
about  retreating  to  Chester.  Washington 
succeeded  in  bringing  off  all  his  artillery, 
but  lost,  in  killed,  wounded,  and  missing, 
nearly  a  thousand  men  ;  while  the  ene 
my,  according  to  their  own  account,  lost 
but  about  five  hundred.  General  Nash 


584 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


of  North  Carolina  was  killed,  and  Colonel 
Mathews  of  Virginia  taken  captive,  to 
gether  with  a  large  number  of  prisoners 
which  he  had  obtained  in  the  beginning 
of  the  engagement.  The  British  general 
Agnew  was  mortally  wounded,  together 
with  other  officers. 

It  was  during  the  retreat,  after  the  sin 
gular  panic  which  seized  upon  the  army, 
when  the  loss  of  the  Americans  was  the 
greatest.  As  soon  as  the  British  discov 
ered  how  strangely  the  advantage  of  the 
day  was  turning  in  their  favor,  they  pur 


sued  it  with  great  promptitude.  Their 
left  wing  was  brought  up  by  General 
Grey,  and,  being  joined  on  the  road  by 
Lord  Cornwallis  with  a  detachment  of 
light-horse  from  Philadelphia,  the  fugi 
tives  were  followed  in  hot  pursuit.  Gen 
erals  Greene  and  Wayne,  however,  cov 
ered  the  retreat  with  great  skill,  and  ofLen 
brought  their  pursuers  to  a  stand.  Wash 
ington  continued  to  retire  until  the  close 
of  the  day,  when  he  reached  Perkimen 
creek,  some  twenty  miles  distant  from 
Germantown. 


CHAPTER    LXIII. 

General  Howe's  Works  on  the  Delaware. — Destruction  of  the  American  Ships. — Success  of  the  British  at  Billingsport.— 
Gups  in  the  Chevaux-de-Frise. — A  Clear  Run. — Attack  on  Fort  Mercer. — Its  Gallant  Defence. — Repulse  of  the  Hes 
sians. — Death  of  Count  Donop. — A  Victim  of  Ambition  arid  Avarice. — Attack  on  Fort  MiiHin. — Repulse  of  the  Brit 
ish. — Burning  of  a  Ship-of-War. — Effect  of  the  American  Triumph. — Another  Effort  for  the  Command  of  the  Dela 
ware. — A  Second  Attack  upon  Fort  Mifflin. — Irs  Heroic  Defence. — Desperate  Straits  of  the  Garrison. — Showers  of 
Bombs  and  Balls. — Fall  of  Fort  Mifflin. — Washington  in  want  of  Reinforcements. — Dilatoriness  of  Generals  Gates 
und  Putnam. — Effect  of  Age  upon  Putnam. 


1777, 


GENERAL  SIR  WILLIAM  HOWE  no 
sooner  reached  Germantown,  and 
took  possession  of  Philadelphia,  than  he 
strove  to  obtain  the  command  of  the  Del 
aware,  in  order  to  secure  the  co-operation 
of  the  fleet  commanded  by  his  brother, 
Admiral  Lord  Howe.  For  this  purpose, 
as  we  have  seen,  he  had  begun  to  con 
struct  three  batteries  near  the  city,  and 
prepared  to  attack  the  American  forts  on 
the  river. 

Philadelphia,  being  a  seaport,  and  at 
that  time  the  largest  town  in  the  United 
States,  presented  the  greatest  facilities 
for  constructing  and  fitting  out  naval 


vessels.  The  few  armed  cruisers,  both 
public  and  private,  then  employed,  had 
accordingly  been  for  the  most  part  built 
and  prepared  for  sea  on  the  Delaware, 
where  they  remained  until  ordered  lot- 
service.  Although,  on  the  approach  of 
the  British  fleet  off  the  mouth  of  that 
river,  some  of  the  vessels  had  succeeded 
in  making  their  escape  to  sea,  there  were 
others  which  had  been  left,  and  had  now 
sought  refuge  above  the  forts  and  obstruc 
tions  in  the  stream.  Some  of  these  were 
at  this  time  above  and  others  below  the 
city;  and  when  General  Howe  began  to 
erect  his  three  batteries,  it  was  obvious 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         DEFENCES  OF  THE  DELAWARE.— FORT  MERCER. 


585 


that  the  communication  between  them 
would  be  cut  off.  The  Delaware,  a  twen 
ty-four,  and  the  Doria,  a  fourteen-gun  ves 
sel,  together  with  several  smaller  armed 
craft,  accordingly  moved  in  front  of  the 
British  works  and  opened  a  cannonade. 
The  Delaware,  however,  was  so  unfortu 
nately  placed,  that  she  took  the  ground 
on  the  ebb  of  the  tide  ;  and  her  guns  be 
coming  unmanageable,  she  was  obliged  to 
strike  to  the  enemy,  who  had  brought 
some  fieldpieces  to  bear  upon  her.  Her 
consorts  then  retired,  and  General  Howe 
was  allowed  to  continue  the  construction 
of  his  batteries  without  interference. 

The  detachment  of  British  troops,  un 
der  Colonel  Stirling,  that  had  crossed  the 
Delaware  to  attack  the  American  works 
at  Billingsport,  on  the  New-Jersey  side 
of  the  river,  had  succeeded  in  carrying 
them.  The  works  having  been  disman 
tled,  the  British  frigate  Roebuck  broke 
through  the  chevaux-de-frise  which  crossed 
the  channel  of  the  Delaware  at  that  point, 
and  made  a  gap  sufficiently  wide  to  ad 
mit  the  largest  man-of-war.  The  enemy's 
next  attempt  was  upon  the  forts  and  che- 
vaux-de-frisc  above.  Great  preparations 
were  made  for  their  defence,  as  they  were 
deemed  of  the  utmost  importance  by  the 
Americans.  Washington  himself  declared 
that  the  enemy's  hopes  of  keeping  Phila 
delphia,  and  "  finally  succeeding  in  the 
present  campaign,"  depended  upon  them. 
Efforts  to  cany  them  were  made  by  the 
British  corresponding  with  those  which 
were  put  forth  in  their  defence. 

After  the  redoubt  at  Billingsport  was 
taken  and  the  chevaux-de-frise  broken  by 
the  enemy,  the  defence  of  the  Delaware 
74 


depended  upon  the  works  above — Fort 
Mercer,  at  Red  bank,  on  the  eastern  or 
New-Jersey  side;  and  FortMifflin,on  Mud 
island,  on  the  western  or  Pennsylvania 
side.  The  fortifications  of  both  were  fair 
ly  constructed,  and  consisted  of  redoubts 
and  outworks.  Two  Maryland  regiments, 
commanded  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Sam 
uel  Smith,  garrisoned  Fort  Mifflin  ;  and 
two  of  Rhode  Island,  under  Colonel  Chris 
topher  Greene,  occupied  Fort  Mercer. 
With  Greene  was  a  young  Frenchman, 
Captain  Manduit  Duplessis,  who  was  serv 
ing  in  the  American  army,  and  who,  in 
consequence  of  his  skill  as  an  engineer, 
had  been  sent  down  to  superintend  the 
construction  of  the  additional  fortifica 
tions  supposed  to  be  necessary.  The  clic- 
vaux-de-fnse  in  the  channel  below  the  isl 
ands,  which  were  his  work,  having  been 
finished,  he  was  now  busy  in  strengthen 
ing  the  defences  at  Fort  Mercer. 

While  a  party  of  men,  under  the  super 
intendence  of  Duplessis,  was  engaged,  on 
the  morning  of  the  22d  of  October,  at 
work  on  the  outer  defences,  which  were 
still  incomplete,  a  large  force  of  Hessians 
was  seen  suddenly  to  come  through  the 
woods,  and  form  almost  within  cannon- 
shot.  The  garrison  amounted  to  only  four 
hundred  men.  The  enemy  were  twenty- 
five  hundred  strong.  The  outworks  of 
the  fort,  as  before  remarked,  were  unfin 
ished,  and  the  redoubt  within  the  enclo 
sure  was  mounted  with  only  fourteen 
guns.  Colonel  Greene,  however,  deter 
mined  upon  defending  his  post  to  the 
last  extremity. 

When  the    Hessians  came  to  a  halt. 
Count  Donop,  who  commanded  them,  or- 


586 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PART  ir. 


Oct.  22, 


dered  a  parley  to  be  beaten  by  the  drums. 
and  sent  forward  an  officer  with  a  Hag, 
who  summoned  the  garrison  to  surrender, 
and  threatened  that,  in  case  of  refusal,  no 
quarter  would  be  given.  "  Tell  your  com 
mander,"  replied  Greene,  "  that  we  ask  no 
quarter,  and  will  give  none  !"  Count  Do- 
nop  now  advanced  his  men  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  fort,  and  began  to  raise  a 
battery. 

Colonel  Greene  was  aware,  from  the 
incomplete  state  of  his  outworks,  that  it 
would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  defend 
them,  and  therefore  resolved  upon  con 
centrating  his  whole  strength  within  the 

O  o 

inner  redoubt.  Here,  with  his  little  gar 
rison,  he  resolved  to  hold  his  ground,  and 
if  possible  beat  off  the  superior  force  of 
his  antagonist.  In  the  afternoon, 
Count  Donop,  having  completed 
his  battery,  began  a  severe  cannonade, 
and  under  the  cover  of  the  fire  inarched 
forward  his  troops  in  two  divisions.  One 
was  to  take  the  works  on  the  north  side  ; 
while  the  other,  led  by  himself,  was  to 
make  the  assault  by  the  south. 

The  Americans  awaited  the  approach 
of  the  enemy,  and  gave  one  fire  before 
retiring  to  the  redoubt.  The  Hessians 
suffered  severely;  but  as  they  advanced, 
and  found  the  outworks  suddenly  aban 
doned,  they  believed  that  the  garrison 
had  iled  in  fright.  With  one  triumphant 
shout,  the  enemy  then  pushed  on,  from 
both  the  north  and  south  sides.  Passing 
through  the  abalti*,  crossing  the  ditches, 
and  leaping  the  pickets,  they  hurried  for 
ward,  with  Hag  in  hand,  to  plant  it  exult- 
ingly  upon  the  ramparts.  Greene  waited 
until  the  scattered  Hessians  had  closed  in 


together  from  the  surrounding  outworks, 
and  crowded  toward  the  central  redoubt ; 
and,  while  they  were  thus  concentrated 
in  a  dense  throng,  he  opened  his  artillery 
upon  them  with  terrible  effect. 

The  assailants  quailed  before  the  unex 
pected  shock,  and,  as  their  comrades  fell 
thickly  about  them,  would  have  fled,  had 
not  the  brave  Count  Donop  sprung  for 
ward  and  rallied  them.  They  came  on 
again  impetuously,  but  a  second  cannon 
ade  from  the  redoubt  checked  their  on 
set,  and  caused  them  to  waver.  Rallying 
once  more,  they  were  again  pushing  for 
ward  to  the  assault,  when  another  mur 
derous  fire  drove  them  back,  and  they 
fled  in  confusion  from  the  works.  As  they 
were  retreating  from  the  outer  defences, 
the  American  flotilla  of  gun-boats  and  gal 
leys,  under  Commodore  Hazelwood,  di 
rected  its  guns  upon  the  fugitives,  and 
galled  them  severely. 

The  loss  of  the  Hessians  amounted  to 
nearly  four  hundred,  while  that  of  the 
Americans  was  only  eight  killed  and  twen 
ty-nine  wounded.  While  the  young  en 
gineer,  Captain  Duplessis,  was  out  with  a 
small  detachment,  making  a  survey  of 
the  results  of  the  engagement,  he  heard 
a  voice  from  among  the  dead  and  dyin^: 

o  «/          O 

"  Whoever  you  are,  draw  me  hence."  It 
was  that  of  Count  Donop.  Duplessis  had 
him  instantly  borne  into  the  fort,  where 
he  lingered  for  three  days,  and  finally 
died,  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven.  "This 
is  finishing  a  noble  career  early,"  said  he 
shortly  before  his  death,  "  and  I  die  the 
victim  of  my  ambition  and  of  the  avarice 
of  my  sovereign."* 

*  Tliu  elector  of  Ile.sse  Cusscl. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         BURNING  OF  BRITISH  SHIPS.— FORT  MIFFLIN. 


The  second  in  command  of  the  Hes 
sians,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Mingerode,was 
also  severely  wounded  in  the  assault,  and 
Lieutenant -Colonel  Linsing  succeeded. 
He  strove  to  reform  his  troops,  but,  in 
spite  of  his  efforts,  they  fled  in  confusion 
to  Haddonfield. 

Simultaneously  with  the  attack  by  land 
on  Fort  Mercer,  the  British  vessels  in  the 
Delaware  made  an  attempt  upon  Fort 
Miillin,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  chan 
nel.  Admiral  Howe  sent  up  from  below 
(where  his  fleet  was  anchored  off  the 
Pennsylvania  shore,  between  Ruddy  isl 
and  and  Newcastle)  a  squadron,  consist 
ing  of  the  Augusta,  a  sixty-four,  the  Mer 
lin  sloop-of-war,  the  Roebuck,  a  forty-four, 
and  several  smaller  ships.  They  succeed 
ed,  after  the  successful  attack  at  Billings- 
port,  in  readily  passing  through  the  gap 
in  the  chevaux-de-frise  which  had  been  con 
structed  ;  but,  while  sailing  up  toward  the 
fort,  the  Augusta  and  the  Merlin  got  fast 
aground,  in  consequence  of  the  channel 
having  been  altered  by  the  obstructions 
placed  above.  This  delayed  the  attack, 
and  it  was  put  off  until  the  fol 
lowing  day.  When  the  morning 
opened,  the  men-of-war  began  a  heavy 
cannonade  upon  Fort  MifTlin,  which  was 
returned  by  both  the  fort  itself  and  from 
the  American  galleys  in  the  river.  In 
the  meantime,  every  effort  was  made  by 
the  English  to  get  off  the  Augusta  and 
the  Merlin,  but  they  stuck  so  fast,  that  it 
was  found  impracticable.  The  Americans 
now  sent  down  some  fire-ships,  in  order 
to  destroy  them,  but  without  effect.  Soon 
after,  however, the  Augusta  took  fire  from 
some  pressed  hay  which  had  been  secured 


Oct.  23, 


on  her  quarter  to  render  her  shot-proof. 
The  rest  of  the  squadron  dropped  down 
the  river,  and  abandoned  the  attack,  to 
avoid  the  dangerous  neighborhood  of 
the  burning  ship,  which,  after  blazing  a 
short  time,  and  the  fire  having  reached 
her  magazine,  blew  up  with  a  terrific  ex 
plosion.  Most  of  her  crew  succeeded  in 
saving  themselves, but  the  second-lieuten 
ant,  the  chaplain,  a  gunner,  and  several 
sailors,  perished.  The  Merlin  being  still 
fast,  the  British  determined  to  leave  her 
to  her  fate ;  and  accordingly  the  crew, 
having  set  fire  to  her,  took  to  their  boats, 
and  pulled  off  to  the  other  vessels. 

The  successful  resistance  of  the  fcitv 
on  the  Delaware  was  a  source  of  great 
satisfaction  to  the  country,  and  Congress 
gave  expression  to  the  feeling  by  voting 
thanks  and  swords  to  Colonels  Smith  and 
Greene  and  Commodore  Hazelwood. 

As  General  Howe's  security  at  Phila 
delphia  (where  he  now  proposed  to  make 
his  winter-quarters)  depended  upon  his 
wresting  the  command  of  the  Delaware 
from  the  Americans,  he  and  his  brother 
resolved  to  persist  in  their  efforts,  in  spite 
of  their  first  fruitless  attempts.  Washing 
ton,  too,  was  equally  determined  to  throw 
every  obstacle  in  their  way  within  his 
power.  But  he  was  greatly  crippled  for 
want  of  troops,  General  Gates  having 
withheld  the  reinforcements  which  the 
commander-in-chief  had  expected  from 
the  northern  army  ;  and,  until  their  arri 
val,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  a  single 
man  could  be  spared  from  his  camp  for 
operations  elsewhere.  Small  detachments 
of  troops  \vere,  however,  sent  to  both  Fort 
Mifllin  and  Fort  Mercer;  and  General  Var- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[_PAUT    II. 


mini  was  despatched  with  his  brigade  to 
Red  bank,  in  order  to  be  in  readiness  to 
give  any  aid  that  might  be  required  by 
either  garrison. 

Between  the  Pennsylvania  shore  and 
Mud  island,  upon  which  Fort  Mifllin  was 
situated,  was  Province  island,  an  oozy  bit 
of  larid;  mostly  under  water.  There  were, 
however,  two  dry  spots  upon  it.  only  about 
four  or  five  hundred  yards  from  the  west 
ern  side  of  Fort  Mifllin,  where  the  de 
fences,  consisting  only  of  palisades,  a  sin 
gle  cannon,  and  two  blockhouses,  were 
exceedingly  weak.  Lieutenant- Colonel 
Smith,  in  command  of  the  garrison  of 
Fort  Mifflin,  strove  to  provide  against  the 
danger  from  this  quarter.  He  erected  a 
two-gun  battery  on  Mud  island  (where 
his  fort  was),  to  command  the  dry  place 
on  Province  island.  The  enemy,  in  the 
meantime,  had  marched  down  in  consid 
erable  force  from  Philadelphia,  in  order 
to  take  possession  of  this  ground,  with  the 
view  of  operating  against  Fort  Mifflin. 
They  had  sent  a  party,  under  an  officer, 
to  make  a  preliminary  survey  of  Prov 
ince  island,  preparatory  to  the  erection 
of  their  works,  when  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Smith  brought  such  a  well-directed  fire 
to  bear  upon  them  from  his  new  battery, 
that  they  were  forced,  after  the  loss  of 
their  commander,  to  retreat  to  the  main 
land. 

The  British,  however,  crossing  over  in 
larger  numbers,  soon  made  good  their  po 
sition  upon  Province  island,  and  were  en 
abled  to  erect  no  less  than  five  batteries 
within  only  five  hundred  yards  of  Fort 
Miillin.  This  looked  so  formidable,  that 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith  began  to  give 


up  all  hopes  of  a  successful  resistance, 
and  wrote  to  this  effect  to  Washington  ; 
but  he  was  urged,  in  reply,  to  defend  the 
post  to  the  last.  Smith,  accordingly,  did 
his  utmost. 

The  British  at  length  had  everything 
in  readiness  for  an  attack,  and  began  to 
open  their  batteries  from  Prov- 

•  •    i  1       mi  •  CT^  ^OV'    I0t 

mce  island.  1  he  garrison  ol  b  ort 
Mifllin  returned  the  fire  with  spirit;  but 
the  heavy  guns  of  the  enemy,  firing  both 
shell  and  ball,  were  doing  irreparable  mis 
chief.  On  the  first  day,  the  blockhouses 
and  the  new  two-gun  battery,  on  the  out 
side  of  the  fort,  were  demolished,  and 
Lieutenant  Treat  killed.  On  the  next. 
away  went  the  strong  palisades, 
a  cannon  in  one  ol  the  emora- 
sures,  and  the  barracks  shattered  into  ru 
ins.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith  was  now 
disabled.  He  was  engaged  in  writing  a 
note  to  General  Varnum,  in  command  of 
the  reserve  force  on  the  New-Jersey  side 
of  the  Delaware,  when  the  chimney  of  the 
barrack-room,  being  struck  by  a  cannon- 
ball,  fell,  scattering  the  bricks  in  every 
direction,  one  of  which  knocked  the  com 
mander  senseless  to  the  ground.  He  was 
then  borne  away  and  taken  across  to  Red 
bank.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Russell  was 
the  next  in  command,  but  lie  was  unable. 
from  ill  health  and  fatigue,  to  take  charge  ; 
and  Major  Thayer,  of  Rhode  Island,  vol 
unteered  to  assume  the  duty. 

On  the  third  day  the  garrison  still  held 
out  ;  but  the  British,  by  their  incessant 
cannonade,  having  demolished 
the  outer  works,  it  was  found  ne 
cessary  to  keep  within  the  fort.  Colonel 
Fleury,  the  French  engineer,  made  every 


Nov.  11, 


Nov.  12, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


FALL  OF  FORT  MIFFLIN. 


Nov.  13, 


effort  to  repair  the  works,  but  without 
success.  The  enemy  kept  up  their  fire 
night  and  day.  Fleury,  however,  declared 
that  the  fort  could  still  be  defended,  pro 
vided  reinforcements  should  arrive.  The 
reinforcements  came  from  General  Var- 
num,  and  the  garrison  still  persisted  in 
their  gallant  resistance. 

Daring  the  night  of  the  third 
day,  the  British  fleet  succeeded 
in  co-operating  with  their  land-force.  A 
merchantman  was  cut  down,  and,  being 
made  into  a  floating  battery,  was  towed 
within  g tin-shot  of  the  fort,  and  early  in 
the  morning  began  a  heavy  cannonade ; 
but  before  noon  its  guns  were  silenced 
by  a  well-directed  fire  from  the  still-re 
sisting  garrison.  On  the  following  day, 
several  men-of-war  also  bore  up  to  the 
attack :  two  passed  into  the  channel  be 
tween  Province  island  and  the  fort ;  two 
took  position  in  front ;  and  others  an 
chored  toward  the  New-Jersey  shore,  that 
their  guns  might  bear  upon  Fort  Mercer. 
In  spite  of  this  formidable  force,  the  brave 
garrison,  exhausted  as  it  was  with  fatigue, 
still  held  out.  The  enemy  continued  to 
pour  in  their  shot  and  bombshells  from 
land-battery  and  ship's  broadside,  and  yet 
not  a  si<m  of  surrender  from  those  reso- 

o 

lute  men.  The  fort  was  in  ruins,  many 
of  the  guns  dismounted.,  and  almost  every 
wall  beaten  down  level  with  the  marsh 
of  the  island.  The  British  ships  had  com 
pletely  surrounded  the  place,  and  closed 
in  so  near,  that  hand-grenades  were  flung 
into  the  fort,  and  men  were  killed  upon 
the  platforms  by  sailors  in  the  maintops; 
and  yet  the  garrison  struggled  manfully 
on  through  the  whole  day  against  fate. 


Nov.  15, 


In  the  evening,  Major  Thayer  deter 
mined  to  give  the  survivors  a  chance  of 
escape,  and  accordingly  sent  most  of  the 
garrison  ashore.  He,  together  with  Cap 
tains  Fleury  and  Talbot  (although  the 
two  latter  were  wounded),  remained  with 
thirty  men  until  midnight,  in  order  to  re 
move  the  military  stores.  This  being  ac 
complished,  they  retired  to  Red 
bank,  having  first  set  fire  to  what 
was  left  of  the  woodwork  of  the  fort.  The 
loss  of  the  Americans  during  this  gallant 
struggle  of  the  little  garrison  at  Fort  Mif- 
flin  against  such  overwhelming  odds,  was 
two  hundred  and  fifty  in  killed  and  wound 
ed. 

The  loss  of  Fort  Mifflin  led  to  a  good 
deal  of  invidious  remark  on  the  part  of 
the  censorious,  and  Washington  thought 
it  necessary  to  justify  his  conduct.  It 
was  contended  that  he  should  have  given 
greater  relief  to  the  fort,  but  it  was  clear 
that  he  had  done  all  that  his  resources 
enabled  him  to  do.  He  had  thrown  such 
a  garrison  into  Fort  Mifilin  as  had  been 
found  before  sufficient  to  defend  it  to  the 
last  extremity ;  and  he  had  likewise  sta 
tioned  General  Varnum's  brigade  at  For.t 
Mercer,  opposite,  to  be  in  readiness  to 
give  his  aid.  The  only  other  practicable 
mode  of  giving  relief  to  the  beleaguered 
fort  would  have  been  to  dislodge  the  en 
emy  from  Province  island.  To  have  done 
this,  however,  it  would  have  been  neces 
sary  to  remove  the  whole  or  a  consider 
able  portion  of  the  army  to  the  western 
bank  of  the  Schuylkill.  There  were  many 
and  very  forcible  reasons  against  such  a 
movement.  The  stores  at  Easton,  Beth 
lehem,  and  Allentown,  would  have  been 


590 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART 


uncovered,  and  the  post  at  Red  bank  un 
protected.  It  was  also  shown  that,  with 
the  army  on  the  west  side  of  the  Schuyl- 
kill,  the  British  would  have  been  able  to 
throw  over  such  a  force  into  New  Jersey 
as  to  overpower  the  garrison  at  Red-bank, 
and  so  cut  off  all  supplies  from  Fort  Mif- 
flin,  opposite  ;  and  "  thus  we  should,"  said 
Washington,  "  in  all  probability,  have  lost 
both  posts  by  one  stroke."  The  enemy, 
too.  by  taking  possession  of  the  fords  up 
on  the  Schuylkill,  after  Washington  had 
crossed,  might  have  rendered  the  expect 
ed  junction  of  the  northern  army  imprac 
ticable  ;  and  "  should  any  accident  have 
happened  to  them,"  continued  the  com- 
inander-in-ciiief,  "  we  should  have  stood 
a  very  poor  chance  of  looking  General 
Howe  in  the  face  through  the  winter, 
with  an  inferior  army."  The  chief  diffi 
culty  in  the  way  of  energetic  operations 
was  the  delay  of  the  march  of  the  troops 
from  the  North. 

The  want  of  the  reinforcements  from 
General  Gates's  army  greatly  embarrassed 
all  Washington's  measures ;  and  so  anx 
ious  was  he  for  their  arrival,  that  he  de 
spatched  Colonel  Alexander  Hamilton,  to 
do  his  best  to  push  them  forward.  It  was 
not  only  Gates,  at  Albany,  who  was  so 
dilatory,  but  Putnam  also,  at  Peekskill. 


Both  of  these  generals  were  evidently 
anxious  to  do  something  on  their  own" 
account,  and  were  not  disposed  to  dimin 
ish  the  forces  under  their  commands,  and 
thus  lessen  the  hopes  of  striking  a  blow 
which  might  resound  to  their  glory.  Both 
may  have  been  actuated  by  the  best  of 
motives,  although  it  was  supposed  that 
Gates  was  influenced  by  an  ignominious 
desire  of  thwarting  Washington,  whom  he 
was  suspected  of  intriguing  to  supersede 
in  the  chief  command.  The  patriotism 
of  General  Putnam  was  beyond  suspicion, 
but  in  the  course  of  increasing  years  he 
had  become  self-willed,  and,  having  enter 
tained  the  project  of  an  attack  upon  New 
York,  was  not  inclined  to  give  up  his  pet 
idea,  which  he  nursed  with  all  the  fond 
ness  of  dotage,  however  chimerical  and 
absurd.  Young  Hamilton,  nevertheless, 
though  he  found  "many  unaccountable 
delays  thrown  in  his  way,"  succeeded  by 
his  prompt  energies  in  overcoming  them, 
and  soon  extorted  from  the  aged  Putnam 
and  the  unwilling  Gates  those  reinforce 
ments  from  Albany  and  Peekskill,  which, 
had  they  come  at  an  earlier  day,  might 
have  saved  the  forts  on  the  Delaware, 
and  rendered  Philadelphia  at  least  "a  very 
ineligible  situation  for  the  enemy"  during 
the  winter. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       FORT  MERCER  SURRENDERS  TO  LORD  CORNWALLIS. 


591 


CHAPTER    LXIV. 

Fall  of  Fort  Mercer. — Washington  too  late. — The  British  command  the  Delaware. — A  Gallant  Naval  Exploit. — The 
Raleigh  and  the  Alfred. — Their  Cruise. — Successful  Attack  upon  a  Fleet. — Success  of  American  Privateers. —  Wash 
ington  at  Whitemarsh. — Arrival  of  the  Northern  Army. — Its  Miserable  Plight. — Shoes  wanted. — A  Substitute  proposed. 

— Raw-Hide  a  Failure. — Plans  of  Attack. — Sir  William  Howe  on  the  Move. — General  Greene  ordered  to  march. 

The  Marquis  Lafayette  finds  a  Chance  for  Glory. — His  Extensive  Designs. — Martial  Fancies. — Lafayette  gets  into 
Danger,  but  gets  out  of  it. —  [Ms  own  Account  of  the  Affair. — He  is  rewarded  with  the  Command  of  a  Division. — Gen 
eral  Stephen  superseded. — Howe  offers  Battle. — Washington  remains  on  the  Defensive. — Howe  returns  to  Philadel 
phia. — Washington  in  search  of  Winter-Quarters. 


1777, 


FORT  MERCER.,  situated,  as  before 
described, at  Red-bank,  on  the  New- 
Jersey  side  of  the  Delaware,  was  still  in 
possession  of  the  Americans.  The  fort 
was  held  by  the  garrison  which,  under  the 
command  of  Colonel  Greene,  had  so  gal 
lantly  repulsed  Count  Donop  and  his  Hes 
sians  ;  and  General  Varnuin  with  his  bri 
gade  was  stationed  in  the  neighborhood. 
As  this  post  partially  commanded  the  Del 
aware,  thus  embarrassing  the  movements 
of  the  British  fleet,  and  protecting  the 
few  American  armed  vessels  in  the  river, 
it  was  determined  to  make  an  effort  to 
hold  it.  With  this  view,  Generals  St.  Glair 
and  Knox,  and  Baron  de  Kalb,  were  sent 
down  by  Washington  to  take  a  survey  of 
the  ground,  and  to  endeavor  to  form  a 

o  -' 

judgment  of  the  most  probable  means  of 
securing  its  possession.  Soon  afterward 
intelligence  was  received  that  a  large  Brit 
ish  force,  commanded  by  Lord  Cornwal- 
lis,  Lad  crossed  the  Delaware  from  Phila 
delphia  to  New  Jersey ;  and  it  being  in 
ferred  that  his  object  was  Red-bank,  Wash 
ington  ordered  Generals  Greene  and  Hun- 

o 

tingdon,  together  with  Glover's  brigade, 
to  march  to  its  support.  They  were,  how 


ever,  too  late.  Cornwallis  approached 
with  so  large  a  force,  before  the  reinforce 
ments  sent  by  Washington  could  arrive, 
that  it  was  futile  to  attempt  resistance ; 
and  Red-bank  was  thus  abandoned  to  the 
enemy,  leaving  the  Delaware,  from  the 
capes  to  Philadelphia,  in  the  full  posses 
sion  of  the  Howes.  The  Americans  now 
destroyed  the  few  sea-vessels  which  they 
had  in  the  river,  consisting  of  the  Andrea 
Doria,  of  fourteen  guns,  and  the  Hornet 
and  the  Wasp,  of  ten  and  eight  respect 
ively.  The  galleys,  by  keeping  close  in 
to  the  New-Jersey  shore,  were  enabled  to 
make  their  escape  to  the  shallow  water 
above  the  city. 

While  these  occurrences  were  taking 
place  on  the  Delaware,  there  was  a  gal 
lant  little  exploit  effected  at  sea,  which 
proved  that  there  was  still  some  spirit 
left  among  American  naval  men,  although 
their  character  for  daring  had  been  some 
what  tarnished  by  the  conduct  of  Com 
modore  Hazelwood  and  his  officers,  who 
were  thought  to  have  been  less  efficient 
than  they  might  have  been  during  the 
brave  but  unsuccessful  struggle  to  hold 
the  forts  on  the  Delaware. 


592 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKI 


The  Raleigh,  a  twelve-pounder  frigate, 
having  been  fitted  out  at  Portsmouth,  in 
New  Hampshire,  was  put  under  the  com 
mand  of 'Captain  Thompson,  and  sailed  in 
company  with  the  Alfred,  a  twenty-gun 
vessel,  commanded  by  Captain  Hinman. 
Their  first  commission  was  to  proceed  to 
France,  in  order  to  bring  thence  military 
stores  that  were  awaiting  transportation 
to  America.  They  got  to  sea,  and  made 
a  <£Ood  run  of  the  coast,  when  thev  fell  in 

o  *•' 

with  the  Nancy,  a  trader,  and  captured 
her.  From  her  captain  it  was  discovered 
that  she  had  been  left  the  day  before  by 
the  Windward-island  fleet  of  merchant 
men,  bound  to  the  West  Indies,  which  was 
under  the  convoy  of  four  British  men-of- 
war,  the  Camel,  the  Druid,  the  Weasel, 
and  the  Grasshopper.  Captain  Thomp 
son,  having  learned  their  probable  posi 
tion,  resolved  to  give  chase.  In  twentj^- 
four  hours  he  got  sight  of  them 
from  his  masthead,  and  before 
night  he  was  close  enough  to  count  the 
sixty  sail  composing  the  convoy,  and  to 
discover  the  positions  of  the  men-of-war. 
Thompson, having  obtained  from  his  prize 
(the  Nancy)  the  signals  of  the  enemy,  sig 
nalled  his  consort  as  if  she  belonged  to 
the  convoy.  The  two  were  astern,  and 
to  the  windward  of  the  British  fleet;  and 
at  night  Thompson  spoke  the  Alfred,  and 
told  her  commander  to  keep  near  him,  as 
he  intended  to  run  in  among  the  enemy 
and  lay  the  commodore  aboard. 

In  the  course  of  the  night  the  wind 
came  round  to  the  northward;  and  the 
licet  having  hauled  by  the  wind,  the  Ra- 
leigh  and  the  Alfred  were  brought  to  the 
leeward.  At  break  of  day  the  breeze 


Sept.  3, 


freshened  ;  and  as,  in  order  to  effect  his 
purpose,  it  was  necessary  to  carry  more 
sail,  Thompson  ordered  the  canvas  to  be 
spread.  Unfortunately,  the  Alfred  could 
not  bear  it,  and  fell  to  the  leeward  a  long 
distance;  while  the  Raleigh, under  double- 
reefed  topsails,  fetched  handsomely  into 
the  fleet.  Thompson  could  not  shorten 
sail,  lest  he  might  be  detected  as  a  stran 
ger;  and,  giving  up  all  hope  of  aid  from 
his  consort,  he  boldly  steered  in  among 
the  enemy's  ships,  and  hove  to,  in  order 
that  the  merchantmen  astern  might  draw 

o 

more  ahead  of  him.  He  now  filled  away, 
and,  steering  directly  through  the  con 
voy,  made  for  the  vessel-of-war  most  to 
the  windward.  As  he  passed,  he  spoke 
some  of  the  merchantmen  ;  and,  in  order 
to  keep  up  his  deception,  he  gave  them 
orders  about  their  course,  and  continued 
to  use  the  enemy's  signals.  With  her 
guns  housed  and  her  ports  lowered,  and 
there  being  no  visible  preparations  for 
action,  none  as  yet  suspected  the  true 
character  of  the  Raleigh. 

Captain  Thompson  now  ran  his  ship 
alongside  the  Druid,  of  twenty  guns,  com 
manded  by  Captain  Carteret,  and,  running 
out  his  guns  and  setting  his  ensign,  or 
dered  the  enemy  to  strike.  The  Druid 
was  so  taken  by  surprise,  that  everything 
on  board  of  her  was  thrown  into  confu 
sion,  and  even  her  sails  got  aback.  The 
Raleigh  at  this  moment  threw  into  her  a 
heavy  broadside,  which  served  to  increa.se 
the  disorder.  Thompson  continued  firing, 
and  with  such  rapidity,  that  in  twenty 
minutes  he  had  poured  into  his  enemy  a 
dozen  broadsides,  without  receiving  hard 
ly  a  shot  in  return.  A  squall  coining  on, 


UKVOLUTIONAKY.]         CAPTAIN  THOMPSON'S  GALLANT  NAVAL  EXPLOIT. 


593 


Sept.  5. 


closed  in  the  two  vessels  from  all  view  of 
the  rest;  but,  when  it  cleared  away,  the 
convoy  was  seen  scattered,  and  making 
off  in  all  directions.  The  other  vessels- 
of-war,  however,  were  coming  up  to  the 
rescue  of  the  Druid,  and  Thompson  found 
it  necessary  to  leave  his  adversary.  He 
therefore  ran  to  the  leeward  and  joined 
his  consort,  the  Alfred.  Shortening  sail, 
the  two  ships  waited  for  the  British  men- 
of-war  to  come  up  ;  but,  night  ap 
proaching,  the  latter  hauled  in 
with  the  fleet  again.  Thompson  followed 
them  for  some  days, but  did  not  succeed  in 
provoking  them  to  a  combat.  The  Druid 
was  so  greatly  damaged  in  the  encounter, 
that  she  was  obliged  to  return  to  England 
for  repairs.  Her  loss  was  six  killed  and 
twenty-six  wounded  ;  that  of  the  Raleigh 
was  only  three  men  killed  and  wounded.* 
During  the  whole  year  1777,  the  loss 
of  the  British  commercial  marine  was  no 
less  than  four  hundred  and  sixty-seven 
sail,  principally  taken  by  American  pri 
vateers,  though  seventy  men-of-war  were 
kept  on  the  American  coast  alone  to  pro 
tect  English  vessels.f 

Washington's  present  encamp 
ment  was  at  Whitemarsh,  within 
fourteen  miles  of  Philadelphia.  While 
here,  the  northern  army  at  last  arrived, 
and  in  such  wretched  condition  in  regard 
to  clothing,  that  a  large  part  of  Morgan's 
corps  had  to  remain  in  camp  for  want  of 
shoes,  and  only  a  hundred  and  seventy 
were  sufficiently  well  shod  to  be  able  to 
march  when  Washington  was  sending 
those  reinforcements  to  Red-bank  which 

*  History  of  the  Navy  of  the  United  States,  by  J.  Fcnni- 
more  Cooper.  t  Ib. 

75 


Nov.  22. 


arrived  too  late  to  save  it.  Shoes  had 
become  so  scarce  in  the  camp,  that  the 
commander-in-chief  was  induced  to  offer 
a  reward  for  a  substitute.  Accordingly 
the  following  was  posted  about,  as  a  stim 
ulus  to  the  inventive  genius  of  the  army  : 

"  The  commander-in-chief  offers  a  re 
ward  of  ten  dollars  to  any  person  who 
shall,  by  nine  o'clock  on  Monday  morn 
ing,  produce  the  best  substitute  for  shoes, 
made  of  raw-hides.  The  commissary  of 
hides  is  to  furnish  the  hides,  and  the  ma 
jor-general  of  the  day  is  to  judge  of  the 
essays,  and  assign  the  reward  to  the  best 
artist." 

What  the  result  was,  has  never  been 
recorded  ;  although  it  is  probable  that,  as 
shoes  remained  for  a  long  time  subse 
quently  a  pressing  want  in  the  army,  the 
raw-hide  substitute  never  came  into  use. 

While  Lord  Cornwallis  was  inarching 
against  Red-bank,  a  council  of  war  was 
held  in  the  American  camp,  to  consider 
the  propriety  of  taking  advantage  of  the 
occasion  of  his  absence,  to  make  an  attack 
on  Philadelphia.  Four  of  the  fifteen  gen 
eral  officers  were  in  favor  of  it,  but  eleven 
opposed  it,  and  the  idea  was  abandoned. 
This,  no  doubt,  was  a  judicious  resolve; 
for,  although  the  enemy  left  at  Philadel 
phia  were  not  greater  in  number  than 
Washington's  army,  now  that  he  was  re 
inforced  by  the  northern  troops,  their  dis 
cipline  and  condition  were  much  better. 
Sir  William  Howe,  too,  having  concentra 
ted  his  troops  within  the  cit}^,  had  pro 
tected  them  by  skilfully-constructed  de 
fensive  works.  His  lines  on  the  north 
side  of  Philadelphia  stretched  from  river 
to  river,  and  were  defended  by  a  chain 


594 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[l-AllT    II 


of  fourteen  strong  redoubts,  with  here  and 
there  abattis  and  circular  works,  while  his 
flanks  were  each  protected  by  a  river,  and 
his  rear  by  the  junction  of  two. 

General  Howe,  finding  that  Washing 
ton  was  not  disposed  to  attack  him  in  his 
encampment  at  Philadelphia,  resolved  up 
on  a  forward  movement  himself,  hoping, 
as  he  said  in  his  despatch  to  the  British 
minister,  that  it  would  "  be  attended  with 
the  success  that  is  due  to  the  activity  and 
spirit  of  his  majesty's  troops."  Washing 
ton  had  been  well  informed  of  the  inten 
tions  of  the  enemy,  and  as  early  as  the 
28th  of  November  declared  that  he  would 
'•'not  be  disappointed  if  they  come  out 
this  night  or  very  early  in  the  morning.? 
He  accordingly  wrote  to  General  Greene 
(who  was  now  returning  from  his  futile 
inarch  into  New  Jersey,  where  he  had  ar 
rived  too  late  to  thwart  Cornwallis's  ex 
pedition  against  Red-bank),  urging  him 
to  push  forward  the  rear  brigades  with  all 
despatch,  and  hasten  on  himself  to  the 
camp. 

During  this  march  of  Greene,  the  young 
marquis  de  Lafayette  had  an  opportunity, 
for  which  he  was  ever  eager,  of  gratifying 
his  desire  for  military  glory.  After  his 
wound  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandy  wine, 
he  had  been  conducted  to  Bethlehem,  in 
Pennsylvania,  where  he  remained,  under 
the  nursing  care  of  the  kindly  Moravians, 
for  nearly  two  months.  While  listening 
to  the  sermons  of  the  peace-loving  breth 
ren,  the  marquis,  with  the  ardor  so  natu 
ral  to  youth,  was  concocting  all  kinds  of 
military  schemes.  He  planned  a  descent 
upon  the  English  West-India  islands,which 
he  proposed  to  attack  with  the  connivance 


of  the  French  commander  of  Martinique, 
to  whom  he  wrote,  explaining  his  design. 
He  also  conceived  an  extensive  expedi 
tion  against  the  British  possessions  in  the 
East  Indies,  and  solicited  permission  from 
the  French  prime  minister  to  conduct  an 
American  force  to  the  Isle  of  France. 
whence  he  proposed  to  strike  his  great 
blow  against  the  English  power  in  the 
East.  The  marquis  found  the  good  Mo 
ravians  as  little  disposed  to  concur  \\iih 
his  grand  views  of  stirring  up  the  whole 
world  to  contention  as  he  was  to  follow 
their  precepts  of  universal  love.  They 
ceased  not  to  deplore  "  his  warlike  poli 
cy,"  but  he  continued  to  indulge  in  his 
martial  fancies.  They  preached  peace, 
but  his  voice  was  "  still  for  war/' 

Lafayette  now  became  impatient,  and 
determined,  although  not  yet  completely 
cured  of  his  wound,  to  seek  an  opportu 
nity  of  carrying  his  martial  theories  into 
practice.  When  General  Greene's  trum 
pets,  therefore,  sounded  in  his  ears,  he 
bade  good-by  to  the  peaceful  Moravians, 
and  buckled  on  his  sword  again.  Greene 
welcomed  the  young  marquis,  and  grati 
fied  his  eagerness  for  fight,  by  allowing 
him,  in  accordance  with  his  own  request, 
to  reconnoitre  Cornwallis  on  the  earl's  re 
turn  from  Red-bank,  and  to  make  an  at 
tack  if  the  circumstances  should  justify 
it.  Lafavette  accordingly  went  off  in 

*-  t_/    t- 

high  spirits,  with  ten  light-horse,  about  a 
hundred  and  fifty  riflemen,  and  two  pick 
ets  of  militia. 

Lord  Cornwallis  was  just  on  the  point 
of  sending  his  troops  across  the  Delaware 
at  Gloucester,  when  Lafayette,  in  his  ea 
gerness  to  reconnoitre,  came  so  close  to 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         LAFAYETTE  SUPERSEDES  GENERAL  STEPHEN. 


the  enemy,  that  he  was  near  being  cut  off 
by  a  company  of  dragoons  sent  to  inter 
cept  him.  lie  escaped,  however,  and  lived 
to  engage  in  a  skirmish,  and  to  describe 
it,  which  he  did  as  follows  in  a  letter  to 
General  Washington : — 

"After  having  spent,"  wrote  the  mar 
quis,  ••  the  most  part  of  the  day  in  making 
myself  well  acquainted  with  the  certainty 
of  the  enemy's  motions,  I  came  pretty 
late  into  the  Gloucester  road,  between 
the  two  creeks.  I  had  ten  light-horse, 
almost  one  hundred  and  fifty  riflemen,  and 
two  pickets  of  militia.  Colonel  Arrnand, 
Colonel  Lannney,  and  the  chevaliers  Du- 
plessis  and  Gimat,  were  the  Frenchmen 
with  me.  A  scout  of  my  men,  under 
Duplessis,  went  to  ascertain  how  near  to 
Gloucester  were  the  enemy's  first  pick 
ets;  and  they  found,  at  the  distance  of 
two  miles  and  a  half  from  that  place,  a 
strong  post  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
Hessians,  with  fieldpieces,  and  they  en 
gaged  immediately.  As  my  little  recon 
noitring-party  were  all  in  fine  spirits,  I 
supported  them.  We  pushed  the  Hes 
sians  more  than  half  a  mile  from  the  place 
where  their  main  body  had  been,  and  we 
made  them  run  very  fast.  British  rein 
forcements  came  twice  to  them,  but,  very 
far  from  recovering  their  ground,  they 
always  retreated.  The  darkness  of  the 
night  prevented  us  from  pursuing  our  ad 
vantage.  After  standing  on  the  ground 
we  had  gained,  I  ordered  them  to  return 
very  slowly  to  Haddonfield." 

The  young  marquis  had  only  lost  one 
man  killed  and  six  wounded,  and  was  so 
charmed  with  the  good  conduct  of  his 
troops,  that  he  thus  emphatically  praised 


it  in  the  conclusion  of  his  letter  :  "  I  take 
the  greatest  pleasure  in  letting  you  know 
that  the  conduct  of  our  soldiers  was  above 
all  praise.  I  never  saw  men  so  merry,  so 
spirited,  and  so  desirous  to  go  on  to  the 
enemy,  whatever  force  they  might  have, 
as  that  small  party,  in  this  little  fight."* 
When  the  account  of  the  skirmish  was 
transmitted  to  Congress  by  Washington, 
with  this  acknowledgment  of  Lafayette's 
gallantry — "  I  am  convinced  he  possesses 
a  large  share  of  that  military  ardor  which 
generally  characterizes  the  nobility  of  his 
country" — that  body  appointed  the  mar 
quis  to  the  command  of  the  division  in 
the  continental  army  lately  vacated  by 
the  dismission  of  General  Stephen,  of  Vir 
ginia,  who  had  unfortunately  acquired 
habits  which  rendered  him  unfit  for  ser 
vice,  and  threw  a  shade  over  the  bright 
reputation  of  his  earlier  days. 

The  movement  of  General  Howe  did 
not  occur  quite  as  soon  as  was  expected, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  4th  of  December 
that  word  was  brought  into  Washington's 
camp  atWhitemarsh  that  the  enemy  were 
about  attacking  it  that  night.  A  detach 
ment  of  one  hundred  men,  under  Captain 
M  Lane,  was  immediately  sent  out  to  re 
connoitre.  They  soon  discovered  a  van 
guard  of  the  British  on  the  Germantown 
road,  and  managed  to  harass  and  check 

its  approach  during  the  night. 

Dec.  5. 

At  break  of  day  the  next  morn 
ing,  the  enemy  appeared  in  full  force  up 
on  Che.stnut  hill,  on  the  Skippack  road, 
only  three  miles  from  Washington's  en 
campment.  Brigadier-General  Irvine  was 
sent  forward  with  six  hundred  Pennsyl- 

*  Sparks. 


596 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II 


vaiiia  militia,  to  harass  the  British  light 
advanced  parties.  A  skirmish  ensued,  in 
which  Irvine  was  wounded  and  taken 
prisoner,  his  men  having  given  way  after 
the  first  encounter,  and  left  their  disabled 
commander,  with  a  half-dozen  of  his  sol 
diers  in  the  same  plight,  on  the  field. 
Nothing  more  occurred  during  the  day, 
but  General  Sir  William  Howe  with  his 
staff  of  officers  was  seen  to  reconnoitre 
the  ground. 

During  the  night,  the  British  advanced 
still  closer,  and  took  a  position  on  the 
left,  and  only  a  mile  from  Washington's 
encampment.  Here  they  remained  for 
two  days,  and  then  moved  a  little  farther 
to  the  left,  with  the  evident  purpose  of 
provoking  battle.  Washington,  however, 
wras  on  strong  ground,  and  was  not  dis 
posed  to  pit  his  ill-disciplined  and  suffer 
ing  troops  against  the  well-conditioned 
regulars  of  General  Howe's  army,  and  so 
throw  away  the  advantage  of  his  position 
on  the  hazard  of  an  unequal  conflict. 

Notwithstanding,  some  skirmishes  took 
place  between  the  advanced  parties  of  the 
two  armies.  On  one  occasion,  Colonel 
Morgan  with  his  rifle-corps,  and  Colonel 
Gist  with  the  Maryland  militia,  had  a 
short  but  hot  engagement  with  the  ene 
my  on  Edge  hill,  in  which  both  parties 
suffered  severely,  but  the  Americans  were 
compelled  to  retreat  before  the  superior 
force  of  their  antagonists,  after  a  loss  of 
nearly  fifty  killed  and  wounded.  Among 
the  latter  was  Major  Morris,  of  Morgan's 
rifles. 

On  the  following  day,  the  manoeuvres 

of  General   Howe   induced   the 
Dec.  8, 

Americans  to  believe  that  he  con- 


Dec,  9, 


templated  a  general  assault.  Washing 
ton  was  not  only  prepared  for  him,  but, 
as  he  always  was  on  the  approach  of  an 
engagement,  eager  for  the  attack.  He 
was  constantly  on  horseback,  riding  along 
his  lines,  and  exhorting  his  men  to  duty. 
He  earnestly  entreated  them  to  stand 
firm,  and  to  rely  mainly  upon  their  bayo 
nets  to  resist  the  assault  of  the  enemy. 
His  resolute  presence,  and  earnest  though 
calmly-spoken  words,  served  to  bind  each 
man  in  faithful  obedience  to  their  great 
leader's  commands.  The  day  passed, ho \y- 
ever,  without  the  occurrence  of  the  ex 
pected  event. 

The  next  day  it  was  discovered  that 
the  enemy  had  taken  occasion  of 
the  night,  after  having  lit  up  all 
their  camp-fires,  to  retire  silently  toward 
Philadelphia.  They  had  gone  too  far  to 
be  pursued,  and  Washington's  disappoint 
ment  at  the  change  in  the  purpose  of 
the  British  is  strongly  expressed  in  these 
words  to  the  president  of  Congress  :  "  I 
sincerely  wish  that  they  had  made  an  at 
tack,  as  the  issue  in  all  probability,  from 
the  disposition  of  our  troops  and  the 
strong  situation  of  our  camp,  would  have 
been  fortunate  and  happy.  At  the  same 
time,  I  must  add  that  reason,  prudence, 
and  every  principle  of  policy,  forbade  us 
from  quitting  our  post  to  attack  them. 
Nothing  but  success  would  have  justified 
the  measure,  and  this  could  not  be  ex 
pected  from  their  position." 

General  Howe's  reason  for  not  making 
the  attack  was  equally  well  founded.  He 
saw  that  the  American  army  was  too 
strongly  posted,  and  feared  lest  the  issue 
which  Washington  anticipated  would  be 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  WASHINGTON  SELECTS  VALLEY  FORGE. 


59'. 


so  happy  and  fortunate  to  the  Americans, 
should  prove  quite  the  reverse  to  the 
British. 

There  seemed  little  prospect  now  of 
further  active  hostilities  during  the  pres 


ent  campaign,  and  Washington  was  anx 
iously  considering  how  to  dispose  of  his 
army  for  the  rest  of  the  winter.  The 
great  question  with  all  was,  "  Where  to 
look  for  winter-quarters  ?" 


CHAPTER   LXV. 

The  Question  of  Winter-Quarters. — Valley  Forge  selected  by  Washington. — Description  of  Valley  Forge. — Motives  for 
the  Selection. — The  Winter  of  1777-'78. — Destitution  of  the  Army. — A  Day  of  Praise  and  Thanksgiving. — Construc 
tion  of  lints. — Rewards  of  Labor. — Hunger  and  Cold. — Remissness  of  Congress. — The  Commissariat  Department  in 
Fault. — Not  a  Hoof. — Twelve  Thousand  Hungry  Men. — No  Soap. — No  Shirts  to  wash. — The  Soldiers  harefoot  and 
naked. — No  Blankets:  no  Sleep. —  Cry  of  the  Destitute:  "No  Pay,  no  Clothes,  no  Provisions,  no  Rum!" — Famine, 
Disease,  and  Death. — Washington  still  hopeful. — Washington  in  Prayer. — He  rebukes  the  Interincddlers  of  Pennsyl 
vania. — Occasional  Murmurs  and  Disobedience. — Coercive  Measures. — Their  Danger. — Resistance  of  the  Inhabitants. 
— Putrid  Camp-Fever. — Dissolution  of  the  Army  imminent. 


1777, 


THE  question  of  a  proper  place 
for  winter-quarters  for  his  army  was 
submitted  by  Washington,  with  his  usual 
modest  regard  for  the  opinion  of  his  mili 
tary  associates,  to  a  council  of  war.  The 
officers,  however,  differed  widely  in  their 
views.  Some  were  in  favor  of  quarter 
ing  the  troops  at  Wilmington  ;  some  were 
for  cantoning  them  in  the  valley  of  Tre- 
dj'fme,  a  few  miles  west  of  the  Schuylkill 
river  •  while  others  argued  in  favor  of  sta 
tioning  them  in  a  line  from  Reading  to 
Lancaster.  Such  was  the  diversity  of 
opinions,  that  Washington,  as  frequently 
happened,  was  left  to  decide  the  matter 
according  to  his  own  judgment.  He  de 
termined  to  winter  the  army  in  Valley 
Forge. 

Valley  Forge  is  a  small  and  shallow 
valley  in  Chester  county,  Pennsylvania, 
about  twenty  miles  from  Philadelphia, 
formed  between  some  rugged  hills  con 


taining!;   iron-ore,  from   the   working   of 

tj  /  o 

which  it  derived  its  name.  It  is  situated 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  Schuylkill 
river.  There  is  now  a  town  of  some  im 
portance  on  the  site  of  the  old  camping- 
ground,  but  during  the  Revolution  there 
were  only  a  few  scattered  settlers  on  the 
banks  of  the  little  stream  which  flows 
through  the  bottom  of  the  valley.  On 
the  sides  of  the  hills  Washington  now 
proposed  to  encamp  his  troops,  and  there 
winter  them  in  huts  to  be  built  out  of 
the  forest-timber  growing  wildly  about, 
and  having  their  interstices  filled  with 
clay  from  the  untilled  soil.  The  motive 
which  governed  the  commander-in-chief 
in  selecting  this  position  was  explained 
by  him  in  the  following  order  to  his  ar 
my  previous  to  taking  up  his  march  :  — 
"  The  general,"  he  said,  "  ardently  wish 
es  it  were  now  in  his  power  to  conduct 
the  troops  into  the  best  winter-quarters. 


598 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


But  where  are  these  to  be  found  ?  Should 
we  retire  to  the  interior  parts  of  the  state, 
we  should  find  them  crowded  with  virtu 
ous  citizens  who,  sacrificing  their  all,  have 
left  Philadelphia,  and  fled  thither  for  pro 
tection.  To  their  distresses,  humanity  for 
bids  us  to  add.  This  is  not  all :  we  should 
leave  a  large  extent  of  fertile  country  to 
be  despoiled  and  ravaged  by  the  enemy." 
Washington  believed  Valley  Forge  to 
be  the  position  which  would  enable  his 
army  to  inflict  the  least  distress  and  give 
the  most  security  ;  and  there  '•  w7e  must 
make  ourselves,"  he  said,  "  the  best  shel 
ter  in  our  power."  While  the  huts  were 
yet  unbuilt,  Washington,  conscious  of  the 
trials  to  which  his  badly-clothed  troops, 
unprovided  with  shelter  in  the  midst  of 
winter,  would  be  subjected,  expresses,  in 
an  appeal  to  their  fortitude,  the  hope  that 
"  the  officers  and  soldiers,  with  one  heart 
and  one  mind,  will  resolve  to  surmount 
every  difficulty,  with  a  fortitude  and  pa 
tience  becoming  their  profession,  and  the 
sacred  cause  in  which  they  are  engaged. 
He  himself,"  adds  the  general, "  will  share 
in  the  hardships  and  partake  of  every 
inconvenience," 

Never  was  human  endurance  more  se 
verely  tasked  than  in  the  trials  of  the 
whole  American  army  during  the  hard 
winter  of  1777-78.  When  the 
troops  moved  from  Whitemarsh 
to  Valley  Forge,  they  were  already  so  des 
titute  of  shoes  and  stockings,  that  their 
footsteps  might  be  tracked  in  blood  on 
the  hard,  frozen  ground.  It  seemed  al 
most  mockery  that  on  the  very  day  be 
fore  the  army  entered  the  valley  which 
was  destined  to  be  the  scene  of  so  much 


Dec.  11. 


suffering,  was  that  which,  in  ac- 


Dec,  IS. 


Dec.  19. 


cordance  with  the  appointment 
of  Congress,  was  to  be  kept  as  "  a  day  of 
praise  and  thanksgiving."  The  army  halt 
ed,  and  the  solemnities  of  the  day  being 
reverentially  observed  by  every  officer 
and  soldier,  the  whole  body  of 
troops,  on  the  following  morn 
ing,  resumed  the  march  to  Valley  Forge, 
where  they  arrived  the  same  day. 

The  troops  were  at  once  scattered  over 
the  rugged  hills,  and,  being  divided  into 
parties  of  twelve  men  each,  were  busily 
occupied  in  constructing  those  rude  huts 
which  were  to  be  their  only  shelter  from 
the  severity  of  a  North  American  winter. 
The  very  orders  of  the  army,  giving  uni 
formity  to  misery,  show  the  hard  neces 
sities  to  which  all  alike  were  now  com 
pelled  to  submit.  The  huts  were  to  be 
fourteen  feet  by  six;  the  sides,  ends,  and 
roofs,  to  be  made  with  logs ;  the  roofs  to 
be  made  tight  with  split  slabs,  or  in  some 
other  way;  the  sides  to  be  made  tight 
with  clay  ;  a  fireplace  to  be  made  of  wood, 
and  secured  with  clay  on  the  inside,  eigh 
teen  inches  thick ;  the  fireplace  to  be  in 
the  rear  of  the  hut ;  the  door  to  be  in 
the  end  next  the  street;  the  doors  to  be 
made  of  split  oak-slabs,  unless  boards  could 
be  procured  ;  the  side-walls  to  be  six  and 
a  half  feet  high.  One  such  hut  was  ap 
portioned  to  each  twelve  soldiers,  while 
no  person  under  the  rank  of  a  field-officer 
was  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  a  hut  io 
himself.  The  whole  were  to  be  arranged, 
as  is  usual  with  an  encampment,  in  regu 
lar  streets. 

Should  necessity  alone  not  prove  a  suf 
ficient  stimulus  to  labor,  the  soldiers  were 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         DESTITUTION  AND  SUFFERING  IN  THE  ARMY 


599 


encouraged  "  to  industry  and  art"  by  the 
promise  of  a  reward  of  twelve  dollars  to 
the  party  in  each  regiment  which  should 
finish  its  hut  in  "  the  quickest  and  most 
workmanlike  manner."  And,  as  boards 
for  the  covering  of  the  huts  were  difficult 
to  be  got,  a  provocative  to  the  exercise 
of  ingenuity  was  offered  in  the  prize  of  a 
hundred  dollars  to  any  officer  or  soldier 
who,  in  the  opinion  of  three  gentlemen 
appointed  to  be  judges,  should  devise  a 
substitute  equally  good,  but  cheaper,  and 
more  quickly  made. 

With  a  little  ingenuity  and  much  labo 
rious  perseverance,  it  was  found  practi 
cable  to  raise  huts  ;  but  there  were  other 
necessities  which  no  industry  or  skill  of 
the  soldier  could  provide  or  power  of  en 
durance  surmount.  The  men  must  be 
fed  and  clothed.  Hunger  and  cold  are 
too  severely  extortionate  to  be  resisted 
by  any  conscientous  appeals  to  the  vir 
tue  of  self-denial.  Congress,  by  some  un 
wise  changes,  had  so  completely  disorgan 
ized  the  commissariat  department,  that  it 
failed  almost  entirely  in  providing  for  the 
wants  of  the  army.  Colonel  Joseph  Tru in- 
bull,  who  had  been  appointed  commissary- 
general  by  Washington,  resigned  at  the 
beginning  of  the  year,  in  consequence  of 
the  officious  meddling  of  Congress  with 
the  department,  and  ever  since  the  com 
missariat  had  been  at  the  mercy  of  im 
provident  folly  and  cunning  dishonesty. 
"  I  do  not  know/'  wrote  the  Commander- 
in-chief,  "  from  what  cause  this  alarming 
deficiency,  or  rather  total  failure  of  sup 
plies,  arises."  Again,  he  says  :  "  Unless 
some  great  and  capital  change  takes  place 
in  that  line,  this  army  must  be  inevitably 


reduced  to  one  or  other  of  these  three 
things — starve,  dissolve,  or  disperse,  in 
order  to  obtain  subsistence  in  the  best 
manner  they  can." 

But  few  days  had  passed  in  Valley 
Forge  when  this  "  melancholy  and  alarm 
ing  truth"  was  discovered,  that  the  com 
missary  in  the  camp  had  not  "  a  single 
hoof  of  any  kind  to  slaughter,  and  not 
more  than  twenty-five  barrels  of  flour" 
to  feed  some  twelve  thousand  hungry 
men  !  "  The  soap,  vinegar,  and  other  ar 
ticles,"  wrote  Washington,  "  allowed  by 
Congress,  we  see  none  of,  nor  have  we 
seen  them,  I  believe,  since  the  battle  of 
Brandywine.  The  first,  indeed,  we  have 
now  little  occasion  for ;  few  men  having 
more  than  one  shirt,  many  only  the  moi 
ety  of  one,  and  some  none  at  all.  In  ad 
dition  to  which,  as  a  proof  of  the  little 
benefit  received  from  a  clothier-general, 
and  as  a  further  proof  of  the  inability  of 
an  army,  under  the  circumstances  of  this, 
to  perform  the  common  duties  of  soldiers 
(besides  a  number  of  men  confined  to  hos 
pitals  for  want  of  shoes,  and  others  in 
farmers' houses  on  the  same  account),  we 
have,  by  a  field-return  this  day  made,  no 
less  than  two  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  ninety-eight  men  now  in  camp  unfit 
for  duty,  because  they  are  barefoot  and 
otherwise  naked." 

Thousands  of  the  soldiers  were  without 
blankets,  and  many  kept  cowering  and 
awake  the  whole  night  about  the  camp- 
fires,  for  fear  lest,  if  they  went  to  sleep, 
they  might  be  frozen  for  want  of  cover 
ing.  It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  a  sufficient  number  of  men  coul.l  be 
found  in  a  condition  fit  to  perform  the 


GOO 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[FATCT  n. 


ordinary  routine  of  camp-duty  ;  and  men 
able-bodied  but  naked,  were  often  obliged, 
when  ordered  out,  to  borrow  clothes  from 
those  who  happened  to  have  any.  One 
of  the  foreign  officers,  while  walking  with 
Washington  through  the  encampment, 
looked  with  such  alarm  upon  the  miser 
able  soldiers  (as  their  famished  frames, 
scantily  covered  with  a  dirty  blanket, 
slunk  in  the  wintry  air  from  hut  to  hut), 
and  heard  with  such  dismay,  through  the 
open  crevices  between  the  logs  of  their 
wretched  dwellings,  the  woful  cry,  "  No 
pay,  no  clothes,  no  provisions,  no  rum!" 
that  he  despaired  of  the  independence  of 
the  country. 

u  The  unfortunate  soldiers,"  declared 
Lafayette,  "  were  in  want  of  everything  ; 
they  had  neither  coats  nor  hats,  shirts 
nor  shoes.  Their  feet  and  legs  froze  till 
the>/  became  black,  and  it  ivas  often  necessary 
to  amputate  them.  From  want  of  money, 
the  officers  could  obtain  neither  provis 
ions  nor  any  means  of  transport ;  the  colo 
nels  were  often  reduced  to  two  rations, 
and  sometimes  even  to  one.  The  army 
frequently  remained  a  whole  day  without 
any  provisions  whatever!" 

Washington  now  found  himself  encum 
bered  with  a  great  mass  of  starving  men, 
so  weakened  by  famine  and  pinched  by 
the  winter's  cold,  that  they  were  capable 
of  little  beyond  that  last  effort  of  nature, 
crying  for  a  supply  of  the  necessities  for 
its  existence.  Ever  on  the  alert  for  the 
performance  of  his  duty  as  a  military  com 
mander,  Washington,  hearing  of  a  move 
ment  of  the  British,  would  have  sent  out 
a  force  to  check  it.  He  according;!  v  or- 

O    J 

dered  some  of  his-  troops  to  be  ready  to 


march  :  when  from  General  Huntininlon, 

O 

who  commanded  one  division,  came  a  let 
ter,  saying  :  "  I  received  an  order  to  hold 
my  brigade  in  readiness  to  march.  Fight 
ing  will  be  far  preferable  to  starving.  My 
brigade  are  out  of  provisions,  nor  can  the 
commissary  obtain  any  meat.  I  am  ex 
ceedingly  unhappy  in  being  the  bearer 
of  complaints  to  headquarters.  I  have 
used  every  argument  my  imagination  can 
invent  to  make  the  soldiers  easy,  but  I 
despair  of  being  able  to  do  it  much  long 
er." 

From  General  Varnum,  too,  came  a  let 
ter.  "  According  to  the  saying  of  Solo 
mon,"  wrote  the  general,  "  hunger  will 
break  through  a  stone-wall.  It  is  there 
fore  a  very  pleasing  circumstance  to  the 
division  under  my  command,  that  there 
is  a  probability  of  their  marching.  Three 
days  successively  we  have  been  destitute 
of  bread  ;  two  days  we  have  been  entire 
ly  without  meat.  The  men  must  be  sup 
plied,  or  they  can  not  be  commanded. 
The  complaints  are  too  urgent  to  pass  un 
noticed.  It  is  with  pain  that  I  mention 
this  distress.  I  know  it  will  make  your 
excellency  unhappy ;  but,  if  you  expect 
the  exertion  of  virtuous  principles,  while 
your  troops  are  deprived  of  the  necessa 
ries  of  life,  your  final  disappointment  will 
be  great  in  proportion  to  the  patience 
which  now  astonishes  every  man  of  hu 
man  feeling." 

Washington,  always  trustful  in  the  ho 
liness  of  his  cause,  never  despaired  of  its 
ultimate  triumph.  We  can  readily  be 
lieve  that,  in  these  times  of  trial,  with  the 
piety  which  never  forsook  him  in  adver- 
,sitv  or  prosperity,  he  often  on  his  knees 

^  1  1  «/  / 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         WASHINGTON  REBUKES  THE  INTERMEDDLERS. 


601 


implored  in  prayer  the  mercy  of  God  up 
on  his  suffering  troops.  It  is  recorded  by 
a  contemporary  witness  that,  on  one  oc 
casion,  while  .strolling  along  the  stream 
which  flowed  through  the  bottom  of  the 
valley,  he  heard  a  voice,  as  of  one  in  sup 
plication  and  prayer,  coining  out  of  a  se 
cluded  spot.  On  approaching  the  place, 
Washington's  horse  was  found  tied  near 
by.  The  intruder  immediately  turned  his 
steps  homeward  ;  and,  as  he  told  his  wife 
what  he  had  seen,  he  said,  with  a  burst 
of  tears,  "  If  there  is  any  one  on  this  earth 
whom  the  Lord  will  listen  to,  it  is  George 
Washington."* 

The  commander-in-chief  would,  howev 
er,  have  been  more  or  less  than  human, 
if  his  patience  had  not  been  disturbed  by 
the  officious  intermeddling  of  the  Penn 
sylvania  legislature  with  his  plans,  and 
its  censorious  strictures  in  a  "  Remon 
strance"  against  his  conduct.  "  We  find 
gentlemen,"  said  Washington,  "  without 
knowing  whether  the  army  was  really 
going  into  winter-quarters  or  not  (for  I 
am  sure  no  resolution  of  mine  would  war 
rant  the  remonstrance),  reprobating  the 
measure  as  much  as  if  they  thought  the 
soldiers  were  made  of  stocks  or  stones, 
and  equally  insensible  of  frost  and  snow  ; 
and  moreover,  as  if  they  conceived  it  ea 
sily  practicable  for  an  inferior  army,  un 
der  the  disadvantages  I  have  described 
ours  to  be,  which  are  by  no  means  exag 
gerated,  to  confine  a  superior  one,  in  all 
respects  well  appointed  and  provided  for 
a  winter's  campaign,  within  the  city  of 
Philadelphia,  and  to  cover  from  depreda 
tion  and  waste  the  states  of  Pennsylvania 


*L<: 


and  Jersey.  But  what  makes  this  matter 
still  more  extraordinary  in  my  eyes  is, 
that  these  very  gentlemen  —  who  were 
well  apprized  of  the  nakedness  of  the 
troops  from  ocular  demonstration,  who 
thought  their  own  soldiers  worse  clad 
than  others,  and  who  advised  me  near  a 
month  ago  to  postpone  the  execution  of 
a  plan  I  was  about  to  adopt,  in  conse 
quence  of  a  resolve  of  Congress  for  seiz 
ing  clothes,  under  strong  assurances  that 
an  ample  supply  would  be  collected  in 
ten  days  agreeably  to  a  decree  of  the 
state  (not  one  article  of  which,  by-the-by, 
is  yet  come  to  hand) — should  think  a 
winter's  campaign,  and  the  covering  of 
these  states  from  the  invasion  of  an  ene 
my,  so  easy  and  practicable  a  business !" 

Washington  then  proceeds  to  rebuke 
these  interrneddlers  of  Pennsylvania  with 
a  warmth  of  feeling  excited  not  only  by 
their  reckless  disregard  of  the  sufferings 
of  his  troops,  but  by  his  own  humane 
sympathy  with  them  :  "I  can  assure  these 
gentlemen,"  he  wrote,  "  that  it  is  a  much 
easier  and  less  distressing  thing  to  draw 
remonstrances  in  a  comfortable  room,  by 
a  good  fireside,  than  to  occupy  a  cold, 
bleak  hill,  and  sleep  under  frost  and  snow, 
without  clothes  or  blankets.  However, 
although  they  seem  to  have  little  feeling 
for  the  naked  and  distressed  soldiers,  I 
feel  superabundantly  for  them,  and  from 
my  soul  I  pity  those  miseries  which  it  is 
neither  in  my  power  to  relieve  nor  to 
prevent." 

That  the  army,  in  the  state  of  destitu 
tion  and  suffering  in  which  it  was,  should 
occasionally  break  out  in  mutinous  com 
plaints,  and  refuse  to  do  duty,  was  niitii- 


76 


C02 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


1778, 


Feb.  12, 


rally  to  be  expected.  The  long  for 
bearance  of  his  soldiers  surprised 
Washington  himself,  and  won  from  him 
a  grateful  tribute  to  their  patient  endu 
rance.  "  Naked  and  starving  as  they  are," 
he  said,  "  we  can  not  enough  admire  the 
incomparable  patience  and  fidel 
ity  of  the  soldiery, that  they  have 
not  been,  ere  this,  excited  by  their  suf 
ferings  to  a  general  mutiny  and  deser 
tion." 

In  order  to  make  up  for  the  deficien 
cies  of  its  ill-managed  commissariat,  Con 
gress  authorized  Washington  to  resort  to 
the  desperate  expedient  of  exacting  sup 
plies  from  the  people  by  force.  Wash 
ington  unwillingly  consented  to  avail  him 
self  of  this  legal  authority,  in  the  pressing 
necessities  of  his  army,  but  declared  that 
it  would  never  do  to  procure  supplies  of 
clothing  or  provisions  by  coercive  meas 
ures.  "  Such  procedures,"  he  emphatic 
ally  adds,  "  may  give  a  momentary  relief; 
but,  if  repeated,  will  prove  of  the  most 
pernicious  consequence.  Besides  spread 
ing  disaffection,  jealousy,  and  fear,  among 
the  people,  they  never  fail,  even  in  the 
most  veteran  troops,  under  the  most  rigid 
and  exact  discipline,  to  raise  in  the  sol 
diery  a  disposition  to  licentiousness,  to 
plunder  and  robbery,  difficult  to  suppress 
afterward,  and  which  has  proved  not  on 
ly  ruinous  to  the  inhabitants,  but, in  many 
instances,  to  armies  themselves.  I  regret 
the  occasion  that  compelled  to  the  meas 
ure  the  other  day,  and  shall  consider  it 
among  the  greatest  of  our  misfortunes  if 
we  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  prac 
tising  it  again." 

Was  there  ever  a  leader  of  armies  who 


1778, 


thus  spoke  and  acted  like  a  brother-man 
and  fellow-citizen  ?  When  this  reserve  in 
regard  to  private  property  was  observed, 
too,  in  a  country  hostile  to  American  in 
terests,  how  much  greater  appears  Wash 
ington's  honorable  fastidiousness !  When, 
in  order  to  save  his  men  from  absolute 
famine,  he  reluctantly  exercised  the  pow- 
er  conferred  upon  him  by  Congress,  the 
inhabitants  resisted  his  authority  even 
unto  arms.  Washington  issued  a  procla 
mation,  in  which  he  required  all  the  farm 
ers  within  seventy  miles  of  Valley  Forge 
to  thrash  out  one  half  of  their  grain 
by  the  first  of  February,  and  the 
other  half  by  the  first  of  March,  under  the 
penalty  of  having  the  whole  seized  as 
straw.  Many  of  the  disaffected  Pennsyl- 
vanians,  who  abounded  in  that  quarter, 
refused  to  comply  with  the  requisition ; 
and  when  troops  were  sent  out  for  sup 
plies,  and  a  fair  price  offered  for  them, 
the  farmers  defended  their  grain  and  cat 
tle  with  violence,  and  in  some  instances 
burned  what  they  could  not  protect,  so 
resolutely  hostile  were  they  to  the  Amer 
ican  cause. 

Without  the  necessities  of  life,  man  and 
beast  soon  began  to  sicken.  The  horses 
died  for  want  of  forage  ;  and  the  poor, 
famishing  soldiers  were  forced  to  yoke 
themselves  to  wagons  and  sledges,  to  bring 
in  what  fuel  and  scanty  stores  could  oc 
casionally  be  obtained.  There  was  as  yet 
no  improvement  in  the  commissary  de 
partment.  The  suffering  army  was  con^ 
stantly  being  tantalized  with  accounts 
from  all  quarters  of  the  prodigious  quan 
tity  of  clothing  which  was  purchased  and 
forwarded  for  their  use,  while  little  or 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         AMERICANS  STARVING— BRITISH  LUXURIATING. 


603 


none  reached  them,  or  that  little  so  badly 
sorted  as  to  be  totally  useless.  The  poor 
soldier  had  a  pair  of  stockings  given  him 
without  shoes,  or  a  waistcoat  without  a 
coat  or  blanket  to  his  back.  The  little 
man  had  a  large  pair  of  trousers,  and  the 
large  one,  like  the  big  boy  in  the  Cyro- 
pcvdia,  a  small  coat;  so  that  none  were 
benefited.  "  Perhaps  by  midsummer,"  said 

Jl  •/ 

Washington,  with  bitter  irony,  "  he  [the 
soldier]  may  receive  thick  stockings,shoes, 
and  blankets,  which  he  will  contrive  to 
get  rid  of  in  the  most  expeditious  man 
ner.  In  tli is  way,  by  an  eternal  round 
of  the  most  stupid  management,  the  pub 
lic  treasure  is  expended  to  no  kind  of 
purpose,  while  the  men  have  been  left  to 
perish  by  inches  with  cold  and  naked 
ness  !" 

A  putrid  camp-fever  was  the  natural 
consequence  of  this  terrible  destitution 


Feb.  12, 


of  all  the  necessities  of  life  ;  and  so  many 
sickened,  while  such  numbers  deserted 
daily,  that  the  army  was  thought  to  be 
in  danger  of  dissolution. 

"The  situation  of  the  camp,"  wrote 
General  Varnum  to  General  Greene,  "is 
such,  that,  in  all  human  proba 
bility,  the  army  must  soon  dis 
solve.  Many  of  the  troops  are  destitute 
of  meat,  and  are  several  days  in  arrear. 
The  horses  are  dying  for  want  of  forage. 
The  country  in  the  vicinity  of  the  camp 
is  exhausted.  There  can  not  be  a  moral 
certainty  of  bettering  our  circumstances 
while  we  continue  here.  What  conse 
quences  have  we  actually  to  expect? 
Our  desertions  are  astonishingly  great; 
the  love  of  freedom,  which  once  animated 
the  breasts  of  those  born  in  the  country, 
is  controlled  by  hunger,  the  keenest  of 
necessities." 


CHAPTER    LXVI. 

The  British  revelling  in  Philadelphia. — Plenty  of  Money. — Plenty  of  Friends. — Gold  versus  Paper. — Six  Hundred  Dol 
lars  for  a  Pair  of  Boots. — The  British  waxing  fat. — Luxury  and  Dissipation. — Loyally  drunk. — The  Effect. — The 
Profligates  among  the  Quakers. — "  A  Housekeeper  wanted." — Gambling. — Run  of  111  Luck. — Penniless  Officers. — A 
Jolly  Parson. — General  Howe  in  "High  Jinks." — May  Pemberton's  Coach  and  Horses. — Old  Men  wag  their  Heads. 
— Admiral  Lord  Howe  in  Philadelphia. — British  and  Hessian  Generals. — Major  Andre  in  Franklin's  House. — A  Com 
plimentary  Theft. — Deserters  from  the  American  Camp. — Their  Talc  of  Misery. — The  Sock  and  Buskin. — British 
Officers  turned  Players. — The  Mischianza. — The  Pageant  described. — Regatta. — The  Tournament. — Fair  Ladies  and 
Brave  Knights. — The  Queen  of  Beauty. — Ball  and  Banquet. — The  Victorious  Miss  Franks. — A  Single  and  Signal 
Defeat. 


1778, 


FROM  the  starving  camp  of  Wash 
ington  at  Valley  Forge  we  turn  to 
the  winter-quarters  of  the  British  army 
at  Philadelphia,  where  Sir  William  Howe, 
his  officers,  and  men,  were  revelling  in 


the  midst  of  abundance.  Provisions  were, 
indeed,  scarce  and  dear,  and  many  of  the 
inhabitants  were  obliged  to  curtail  the 
luxuries  if  not  the  necessities  of  life ;  but 
the  army-chest,  being  always  kept  well 


604 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


replenished  by  the  prodigal  mother-coun 
try,  the  British  troops  enjoyed  both.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country 
were  inclined  in  favor  of  the  royal  inter 
ests,  and  particularly  well  disposed  tow 
ard  their  own.  They  preferred  selling 
their  hay,  corn,  and  cattle,  to  General 
Howe,  not  only  because  he  was  apparent 
ly  in  the  ascendant,  but  because  he  could 
pay  in  sterling  gold  for  what  Washing 
ton  was  only  enabled  to  give  them  in  ex 
change  the  almost  valueless  continental 
money.  When  an  American  commissary 
presented  himself  with  his  worthless  pa 
per,  the  farmer,  with  his  rusty  musket  to 
his  shoulder,  resolutely  fought  for  each 
grain  of  his  harvest  and  starveling  of  his 
flock,  and  yielded  neither  until  forced  to 
comply ;  while  barns  were  readily  emp 
tied  out,  and  whole  herds  driven  forth, 
at  the  demand  of  the  British  agents,  sup 
plied  with  gold. 

Congress  might  issue  its  millions  of  bits 
of  paper,  and  call  each  a  dollar ;  but  when 
half  a  thousand  could  be  readily  bought 
for  two  golden  guineas,  it  was  natural 
that  the  trader,  whatever  might  be  his 
love  for  political  freedom,  should  prefer 
to  pocket  the  latter,  even  with  its  insult 
ing  impress  of  the  hated  King  George,  to 
taking  the  former  with  all  its  eloquent 
flourishes  of  liberty  and  independence. 
Thus,  a  man  with  a  guinea  in  his  pocket 
was  often  a  more  welcome  customer  than 
he  who  had  hundreds  of  continental  dol 
lars;  and,  while  the  one  could  purchase 
a  pair  of  boots,  the  other  was  forced  to 
go  barefoot.  Six:  hundred  dollars  in  con 
tinental  currency  were  not  seldom  paid 
for  a  single  pair  of  boots,  and  a  skein  of 


silk  was  thought  cheap  at  ten  dollars  of 
the  depreciated  currency ! 

Waxing  fat  with  the  abundance  and  in 
the  indolence  of  their  winter  encamp 
ment,  the  British  yielded  themselves  up  to 
luxury  and  dissipation.  Their  own  his 
torians  have  declared  that  they  reversed 
the  standing  maxim  of  Marshal  Turenne, 
and  seemed  to  think  the  more  drinking, 
gaming,  and  licentiousness,  in  a,  garrison, 
the  better.*  The  whole  winter  of  1777- 
'78  was  spent  in  indolence,  or  in  dissipa 
tion  and  revelry.  Every  regimental  mess 
was  a  scene  of  nightly  orgies.  When  op 
portunity  offered,  the  men,  whether  on 
or  off  duty,  got  most  loyally  drunk. 

A  want  of  discipline  and  proper  sub 
ordination  pervaded  the  whole  British 
force  ;  and  if  famine  and  sickness  thinned 
the  American  army  encamped  at  Valley 
Forge,  abundance  and  indulgence  perhaps 
did  no  less  injury  to  the  British  troops. 
During  the  winter,  a  very  unfortunate  in 
attention  was  shown  to  the  feelings  of  the 
inhabitants.  They  experienced  many  of 
the  horrors  of  civil  war.  Some  of  the 
leading  inhabitants,  and  many  of  these, 
too,  of  the  orderly  sect  of  Quakers,  were 
forced  to  quarter  reckless  young  officers, 
who  were  even  indecent  enough  to  intro 
duce  their  mistresses  into  the  mansions 
of  their  compulsory  hosts.f  A  pair  of 
youthful  profligates  had  the  audacity  to 
advertise  in  the  public  journal :  "  Wanted 
to  hire  with  two  single  gentlemen,  a  young 
woman  to  act  in  the  capacity  of  house 
keeper,  and  who  can  occasionally  put  her 
hand  to  anything.  Extravagant  wages 
will  be  given,  and  no  character  required. 

*  Pictorial  History  of  England.  t  Steclman. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         GENERAL  HOWE'S  "HIGH  JINKS."— MAJOR  ANDRE. 


605 


Any  young  woman  who  chooses  to  oiler, 
may  be  further  informed  at  the  bar  of 
the  City  Tavern."* 

Gaming  of  every  species  was  permit 
ted,  and  even  sanctioned.  This  vice  not 
only  debauched  the  mind,  but,  by  seden- 
taiy  confinement  and  the  want  of  season 
able  repose,  enervated  the  body.  A  for 
eign  officer  held  the  bank  at  the  game 
of  faro,  by  which  he  made  a  very  consid 
erable  fortune;  and  but  too  many  respect 
able  families  in  Britain  had  to  lament  its 
baneful  effects.  Officers  who  might  have 
rendered  honorable  service  to  their  coun 
try  were  compelled,  by  what  was  termed 
a  "  a  bad  run  of  luck,"  to  dispose  of  their 
commissions, and  return  penniless  to  their 
friends.f 

It  is  some  satisfaction  to  find  that  these 
graceless  fellows  "very frequently  attend 
ed  different  places  of  worship,"  although 
"  Friends'  meetinghouses  were  not  much 
to  their  tastes." J  They  naturally  pre 
ferred  to  attend  the  service  of  their  own 
chaplains,  who  seemed  to  be  on  very  ex 
cellent  terms  with  their  reprobate  listen 
ers.  A  "jolly  parson  Badger,"  who  was 
billeted  with  a  demure  Quaker,  was  in 
the  habit,  after  parades,  of  bringing  a  set 
of  rollicking  young  officers  into  his  "front 
room  up-stairs,"  who  rather  disturbed  the 
staid  propriety  of  the  small,  quiet  house 
hold  of  his  broad-brimmed  host. 

General  Howe  himself  also  kept  such 
"  high  jinks,"  that  he  scandalized  the  older 
officers,  although  he  only  grew  more  pop 
ular  with  the  younger  ones.  He  took 
possession  of  one  of  the  finest  houses  in 

*  Watson's  Annals  of  Philadelphia 

t  Stx'dmun.  J  Watson. 


town,  in  High  street,  afterward  occupied 
by  General  Washington,  and  drove  about 
with  "  May  Pemberton's  coach  and  horses," 
which  he  had  seized  and  kept  for  his  own 
use.  His  conduct  was  so  free,  with  a  set 
of  jolly  young  officers,  that  some  of  the 
veterans  shook  their  heads,  and  declared 
that,  before  his  promotion  to  the  chief 
command  of  the  army,  he  always  sought 
for  the  company  and  counsels  of  officers 
of  experience  and  merit ;  while  now  his 
companions  were  usually  mere  boys  and 
the  most  dissipated  fellows  in  the  whole 
army* 

His  brother,  Admiral  Lord  Howe,  be 
haved  himself  with  more  sobriety  of  de 
meanor.  Having  moved  his  fleet  to  the 
city,  he  too  now  resided  in  Philadelphia, 
taking  possession  of  an  imposing  mansion 
in  Chestnut  street.  Earl  Cornwallis  and 
General  Knyphausen  were  also  lodged  in 
accordance  with  their  dignity  ;  and  Major 
Andre  dwelt  in  Doctor  Franklin's  house, 
which  had  been  vacated  by  his  daughter, 
Mrs.  Bache,  on  the  entrance  of  the  British 
into  Philadelphia.  Andre  seems  to  have 
conducted  himself  generally  with  a  prop 
er  regard  to  the  rights  of  the  owner  of 
the  dwelling;  for  Mrs.  Bache,  in  writing 
afterward  to  her  father,  in  Paris,  confesses 
that  she  found  the  house  and  furniture 
upon  her  return  in  better  order  than  she 
had  reason  to  expect  from  "such  a  rapa 
cious  crew."  The  major,  however,  carried 
off  the  renowned  philosopher's  portrait; 
but,  as  the  theft  is  presumed  to  have  been 
intended  as  a  compliment  to  the  scientific 
attainments  of  the  great  original,  it  may 
be  ranked  among  the  pardonable  sins. 

*  Waison. 


606 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Franklin,  though  his  own  house,  with 
his  pet  books,  his  ingenious  mechanical 
toys,  and  his  scientific  apparatus,  was  ex 
posed  to  the  rude  handling  of  a  vandal 
enemy,  received  the  news  of  the  posses 
sion  of  the  city  by  the  British  with  won 
derful  equanimity.  "  General  Howe,"  he 
said,  "has  not  taken  Philadelphia  :  Phila 
delphia  has  taken  General  Howe!"  And  the 
luxury  and  wantonness  which  demoral 
ized  both  officers  and  soldiers,  while  in 
winter-quarters  in  that  city,  con  firmed  the 
shrewd  remark  of  the  philosopher. 

Thus  the  winter  passed  in  all  gnyety 
in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  while  it  was 
all  gloom  on  the  rugged  hills  of  Valley 
Forge.  In  the  British  camp  there  was  no 
reminder  of  the  possibility  of  suffering 
and  misery,  except  when  some  hungry, 
barefooted,  half-naked  deserter,  covered 
only  by  a  dirty  blanket  bound  around  his 
lean  loins  with  a  leathern  belt,  stole  away 
from  the  famishing  camp  of  Washington, 
and  fled  to  the  well-fed  ranks  of  the  ene 
my.  These  poor  wretches  gave  a  doleful 
account  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Ameri 
cans,  of  which  they  themselves  were  the 
most  expressive  illustrations  ;  and  yet  the 
British  commander,  much  to  the  vexation 
of  some  of  his  more  martial  associates, 
never  moved  from  his  comfortable  quar 
ters  to  strike  the  blow  against  the  Ameri 
can  army  in  its  distress  which  they  be 
lieved  would  have  crushed  it  at  once,  and 
thus  paved  the  way  to  a  speedy  subjec 
tion  of  the  whole  country  to  the  royal 
authority.  "Had  General  Howe,"  said 
one,  '•'  led  on  his  troops  to  action,  victory 
was  in  his  power  and  conquest  in  his 
train."  In  this  dark  hour  of  the  Ameri 


can  Revolution,  it  was  perhaps  fortunate 
for  the  safety  of  Washington's  army,  if 
not  for  the  ultimate  triumph  of  liberty 
itself,  that  the  chief  command  of  the  Brit 
ish  forces  devolved  upon  the  indolent  and 
procrastinating  Howe  instead  of  the  active 
Cornwallis  or  the  vigilant  and  energetic 
Clinton. 

Every  one  in  the  British  camp,  howev 
er,  was  now  absorbed  in  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure.  The  officers  no  longer  troubled 
themselves  about  winning  or  losing  bat 
tles  :  they  were  far  more  intent  upon  the 
chances  of  the  faro-table.  They  cared  not 
to  have  the  roar  of  the  cannon  thundered 
in  their  ears,  while  they  could  listen  to 
the  voluptuous  tunings  of  the.sweet  voices 
of  the  "  tory  ladies"  of  Philadelphia.  The 
glory  and  real  tragedies  of  the  battle-field 
were  gladly  exchanged  for  the  mock  he 
roics  and  the  melodramatic  horrors  of  the 
stage.  As  an  officer  of  the  army  presided 
over  the  gaming-table,  so  British  colonels, 
majors,  captains,  lieutenants,  and  ensigns, 
turned  players,  and  got  up  theatrical  per 
formances.  They  enacted  tragedy,  and 
comedy,  and  pantomime  ;  and  won  more 
decided  triumphs  on  the  stage  than  they 
had  ever  hoped  for  on  the  field  of  battle. 
Major  Andre,  with  his  ready  accomplish 
ments  with  the  pen  and  the  pencil,  was 
in  great  requisition.  He  wrote  farces, 
and  painted  scenes.  His  "  waterfall "  drop- 
curtain  was  a  masterpiece  of  theatrical  art, 
and  hung  in  the  Southwarlcihcalrc,c<\i¥\\\\- 
adelphia,  long  after  the  unfortunate  mili 
tary  artist  ceased  to  live.  The  New-York 
loyalist  captain,  Delancey,  was  one  of  An 
dre's  most  active  coadjutors  in  the  dra 
matic  department.  In  the  grand  balls. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         GENERAL  HOWE  RESIGNS.— THE  "  MISCIIIANZA." 


G07 


as  in  all  the  gayeties  of  the  season,  these 
two  officers  shone  also  as  chief  masters 
of  ceremonies. 

The  revels  of  the  British  army  reached 
their  climax  in  the  ever-memorable  Mis- 
cliianza.  This,  as  its  Italian  name  indi 
cates,  was  a  "medley"  entertainment.  We 
must,  however,  somewhat  anticipate  the 
progress  of  events,  in  order  to  understand 
the  occasion  of  this  splendid  folly.  The 
British  government.,  having  become  dis 
satisfied  with  Sir  William  Howe's  conduct 
of  the  campaign,  was  free  in  its  censures. 
The  general  was  no  less  ready  to  justify 
himself,  declaring  that  his  plans  had  been 
thwarted  by  the  obstructions  thrown  in 
his  way  by  the  ministry.  They  both  con 
tinued  to  indulge  in  mutual  recrimina 
tion,  until  finally  Sir  William  resigned  his 
command.  His  resignation  was  accepted, 
and  the  general  was  about  departing  for 
England,  when  his  officers,  with  whom  he 
was  a  great  favorite  from  the  suavity  of 
his  manners  (and  probably  also  from  his 
too  lax  discipline),  determined  to  express 
their  regard  for  him  by  getting  up  the 
Mischiama  in  his  honor. 

The  entertainment  took  place  on  the 
18th  of  May,  1778,  and  consisted  of  two 
principal  parts — a  regatta  on  the  water, 
and  a  tournament  on  laud.  For  the  ex 
penses  of  the  occasion,  all  the  army  would 
have  joyfully  contributed,  as  Sir  William 
was  a  universal  favorite  ;  but  it  was  final 
ly  agreed  that  they  should  be  defrayed 
by  twenty- two  field-officers.  Sir  John 
Wrottlesey,  Colonel  O'Hara,  Major  Gar 
diner,  and  Montressor,  the  chief-engineer, 
were  the  managers  appointed.  Major  An 
dre,  however,  who  wrote  a  glowing  ac 


count  of  all  the  glories  of  the  occasion, 
might  have  said,  "  Quorum  magnapars  sui;" 
for  he,  together  with  his  dramatic  coad 
jutor  Delancey,  bore  a  prominent  part 
in  the  preparations  and  celebration  of  the 
Mischianza.  He  painted  the  scenery,  sug 
gested  the  decorations,  and  planned  the 
pageant. 

The  very  cards  of  invitation,  in  their 
preliminary  display,  gave  promise  of  the 
brilliancy  of  the  coming  show.  These 
were  as  large  as  playing-cards,  and  upon 
them  was  engraved  in  a  shield  a  view  of 
the  sea,  with  the  setting  sun,  Sir  William 
Howe's  crest  and  motto,  "Vive  vale!"  and 
the  complimentary  words,  "Lncco  discc- 
dens,  aucto  splcndore  rcsuryam :  I  SHINE  EVEN 

WHILE  SETTING,  AND  SHALL  ARISE  WITH  IN 
CREASED  SPLENDOR!" — alluding  to  the  gen 
eral's  popularity  at  his  departure,  and 
prophesying  his  future  glory.  Around 
the  shield  was  a  wreath  of  laurel;  while 
such  military  insignia  as  flags, swords, can 
non,  and  field-batons,  completed  the  pic 
ture. 

A  grand  regatta  began  the  entertain 
ment.  It  consisted  of  three  divisions.  In 
the  first  was  the  Ferret  galley,  with  Sir 
William  and  Lord  Howe,  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  (who  had  arrived  from  New  York  as 
Howe's  successor  in  the  command),  the 
officers  of  their  suites.,  and  some  ladies. 
The  Cornwallis  galley  brought  up  the 
rear,  having  on  board  the  earl  himself, 
General  Knyphausen  and  his  suite,  three 
British  generals,  and  a  party  of  ladies. 
On  each  quarter  of  these  galleys,  and 
forming  their  division,  were  five  flat-boats, 
lined  with  green  cloth,  and  filled  with  ia- 
dies  and  gentlemen.  In  advance  of  the 


008 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAT?T    11. 


whole  were  three  flat-boats,  with  a  band 
of  music  in  each.  Six  barges  rowed  about 
each  flank,  to  keep  off  the  swarm  of  boats 
that  covered  the  Delaware  from  side  to 
side.  The  galleys  were  dressed  out  in  a 
variety  of  colors  and  streamers,  and  in 
each  Hat-boat  was  displayed  the  flag  of 
its  own  division. 

In  the  stream,  opposite  the  centre  of 
the  city,  the  armed  ship  Fanny,  magnifi 
cently  decorated,  was  placed  at  anchor ; 
and  at  some  distance  ahead  lay  his  maj 
esty's  frigate  Roebuck,  with  the  admiral's 
Hag  hoisted  at  the  fore-topmast  head.  The 
transport-ships,  extending  in  a  line,  the 
whole  length  of  the  town,  appeared  with 
colors  Hying,  and  crowded  with  specta 
tors,  as  were  also  the  opening  of  the  sev 
eral  wharves  on  shore,  exhibiting  the 

'  O 

most  picturesque  and  enlivening  scene 
which  the  eye  could  desire  to  look  upon. 
The  rendezvous  appointed  for  the  whole 
was  at  Knight's  wharf,  at  the  northern 
extremity  of  the  city. 

By  half-past  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  the  whole  company  was 
embarked,  and  the  signal  being  made  by 
the  ship-of-war  Vigilant,  the  three  divis 
ions  rowed  slowly  down,  preserving  their 
proper  intervals  of  distance,  and  keeping 
time  to  the  music,  which  led  the  fleet. 
Arrived  between  the  Fanny  and  the  Mar 
ket  wharf,  a  signal  was  made  from  one 
of  the  boats  ahead,  and  the  whole  lay 
upon  their  oars,  while  the  bands  played 
'•  God  save  the  King!"  and  three  cheers  giv 
en  from  the  vessels  were  returned  from 
the  multitude  on  shore.  By  this  time  the 
Hood-tide  became  too  rapid  for  the  gal 
leys  to  advance ;  they  were  therefore 


May  18, 


quitted,  and  the  company  disposed  of  in 
different  barges. 

The  landing-place  was  at  the  old  fort, 
near  the  present  navy-yard,  a  little  to  the 
southward  of  the  town,  before  Wharton's 
mansion,  from  which  a  broad  greensward, 
lined  with  rows  of  tall  trees,  stretched  in 
a  gentle  descent  for  four  hundred  yards 
down  to  the  water-side.  As  soon  as  the 
general's  barge  was  seen  to  push  from  the 
shore,  a  salute  of  seventeen  guns  was  fired 
from  the  Roebuck,  which  was  followed. 
after  a  short  interval,  by  the  same  num 
ber  from  the  Vigilant.  The  company,  as 
the}'  disembarked, arranged  themselves  in 
a  line  of  procession,  and  advanced  through 
an  avenue  formed  by  two  files  of  grena 
diers,  and  a  line  of  light-horse  supporting 
each  file.  The  avenue  led  to  a  square 
lawn  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  on 
each  side,  lined  with  troops,  and  properly 
prepared  for  the  exhibition  of  a  tilt  and 
tournament,  accord  ing  to  the  customs  and 
ordinances  of  ancient  chivalry.  The  pro 
cession  marched  through  the  centre  of 
the  square.  The  music,  consisting  of  all 
the  bands  of  the  army,  moved  in  front. 
The  managers,  with  favors  of  blue  and 
white  ribbons  on  their  breasts,  followed 
next  in  order.  The  general,  the  admiral, 
and  the  rest  of  the  company,  proceeded 
promiscuously. 

In  front  appeared  Wharton's  large  and 
elegant  mansion,  which  bounded  the  view 
through  a  vista,  formed  by  two  triumphal 
arches  erected  at  proper  intervals  in  a 
line  with  the  landing-place.  Two  pavil 
ions,  with  rows  of  benches  rising  one 

/  O 

above  another,  and  serving  as  the  "  ad 
vanced  wings"  (as  Andre,  in  his  militarv 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  GRAND  TOURNAMENT. 


phrase,  describes  them)  of  the  first  tri 
umphal  arch,  received  the  ladies;  while 
the  gentlemen  arranged  themselves  in 
convenient  order  on  each  side.  On  the 
front  seat  of  each  pavilion  were  placed 
seven  of  the  principal  young  ladies  of  the 
country,  dressed  in  Turkish  habits,  and 
wearing  in  their  turbans  the  favors  with 
which  they  designed  to  reward  the  sev 
eral  knights  who  were  to  contend  in  their 
honor. 

These  arrangements  were  hardly  com 
pleted,  when  the  sound  of  trumpets  was 
heard  at  a  distance ;  and  soon  a  band  of 
knights,  dressed  in  ancient  habits  of  white 
and  red  silk,  and  mounted  on  noble  gray 
horses,  richly  caparisoned  in  trappings  of 
the  same  colors,  entered  the  lists,  attend 
ed  by  their  esquires  on  foot,  in  suitable 
apparel,  in  the  following  order:  four  trum 
peters,  properly  habited,  their  trumpets 
decorated  with  small  pendent  banners  ;  a 
herald,  in  his  robe  of  ceremony,  with  a 
device  of  his  band  on  it,  consisting  of  two 
wrhite  roses  intertwined,  with  the  motto, 
"  We  drop  when  separated!'  Lord  Cathcart, 
mounted  on  a  superb  horse  led  by  grooms, 
appeared  as  chief  of  these  knights.  Two 
young  black  slaves,  with  sashes  and  draw 
ers  of  blue  and  white  silk,  wearing  large 
silver  clasps  round  their  necks  and  arms, 
their  breasts  and  shoulders  bare,  held  his 
stirrups.  On  his  right  and  left  walked 
his  two  esquires,  one  bearing  his  lance 
and  the  other  his  shield,  upon  which  was 
the  device  of  Cupid  riding  a  lion,  with 
the  motto, "  Surmounted />// Love"  His  lord 
ship  appeared  in  honor  of  Miss  Auchmuty. 
Then  followed  his  six  knights,  each  splen 
didly  accoutred  and  mounted,  accompa- 
77 


nied  by  his  esquire  bearing  his  shield,  and 
prepared  to  d o  service  for  his  "lady e  love." 
Among  these  "  KNIGHTS  OF  THE  BLENDED 
ROSE"  appeared  Andre  himself,  then  hold 
ing  the  rank  of  captain,  with  his  youth 
ful  brother,  only  nineteen  years  of  age,  a 
lieutenant  in  the  army. 

After  the  knights  had  rode  up  and 
made  the  circuit  of  the  square,  they  sa 
luted  the  ladies  as  they  passed  before  the 
pavilions,  and  then  ranged  themselves  in 
a  line  with  the  seat  of  the  dames  of  the 
"Blended  Rose,"  whose  pre-eminent  beau 
ty,  wit,  and  accomplishments,  they  were 
prepared  to  prove  by  their  arms,  as  their 
herald  declared,  against  all  who  should 
dare  to  deny  them.  Three  times  the  chal 
lenge  was  sounded.  At  the  third,  a  her 
ald,  with  four  trumpeters,  dressed  in  black 
and  orange,  galloped  into  the  lists.  He 
was  met  by  the  herald  of  the  "  Blended 
Rose,"  and,  after  a  brief  parley,  he  of  the 
"  KNIGHTS  OF  THE  BURNING  MOUNTAIN"  loud 
ly  sounded  his  trumpet,  and  proclaimed 
defiance  to  the  challenge,  declaring  that 
the  knights  of  the  "Burning  Mountain" 
came  to  disprove  by  deeds,  and  not  by 
words,  the  vainglorious  assertions  of  the 
knights  of  the  "  Blended  Rose." 

The  knights  of  the  "  Burning  Mount 
ain"  now  rode  in,  headed  by  their  chief. 
Each  had  his  squire,  shield,  and  device, 
and  was  ready  to  do  service  for  his  espe 
cial  dame.  They,  having  made  the  cir 
cuit  of  the  lists,  and  their  obeisance  to 
all  the  ladies,  reined  up  their  horses  defi 
antly  in  front  of  the  knights  of  the  "Blend 
ed  Rose."  The  chief  of  the  latter  then 
threw  down  his  gauntlet,  which  \vas  or 
dered  to  be  taken  up  by  the  esquire  of 


610 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


the  chief  of  the  "Burning  Mountain." 
Each  knight  now  took  his  lance  and  shield 
from  his  esquire  ;  and  the  two  opposing 
bands,  after  making  a  general  salute  to 
each  other  by  a  graceful  movement  of 
their  lances,  turned  to  take  their  career, 
and,  encountering  in  full  gallop,  shivered 
their  spears.  In  the  second  and  third  en 
counters  they  discharged  their  pistols.  In 
the  fourth  they  fought  with  their  swords. 
At  length  the  two  chiefs,  spurring  for 
ward  into  the  centre,  engaged  furiously 
in  single  combat,  till  the  marshal  of  the 
field  rushed  in  between  the  champions, 
and  declared  that  the  fair  damsels  of  the 
"Blended  Rose"  and  "Burning  Mount- 
were  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 


am 


proofs  of  love  and  the  signal  feats  of  val 
or  given  by  their  respective  knights,  and 
commanded  them,  as  they  prized  the  fu 
ture  favors  of  their  mistresses,  that  they 
would  instantly  desist  from  further  com 
bat.  Obedience  being  paid  to  this  order, 
the  chiefs  joined  their  respective  array 
of  knights. 

A  passage  being  now  opened  between 
the  two  pavilions,  the  knights,  preceded 
by  their  squires  a.nd  the  bands  of  music, 
rode  through  the  first  triumphal  arch, 
and  arrayed  themselves  to  the  right  and 
left.  This  arch  was  erected  in  honor  of 
Lord  Howe.  It  presented  two  fronts,  in 
the  Tuscan  order.  The  pediment  was 
adorned  with  various  naval  trophies,  and 
at  the  top  was  the  figure  of  Neptune,  with 
a  trident  in  his  right  hand.  In  a  niche 
on  each  side  stood  a  sailor  with  a  drawn 
cutlass.  Three  plumes  of  feathers  were 
placed  on  the  summit  of  each  wing,  and 
in  the  entablature  was  a  Latin  inscription, 


saying  that  praise  was  his  due,  but  that 
his  soul  was  above  praise.  From  this 
arch  led  an  avenue  three  hundred  feet 
long  and  thirty-four  broad,  lined  on  each 
side  with  troops;  while  beyond  all  the 
colors  of  the  army  were  planted  at  prop 
er  intervals,  between  which  the  knights 
and  squires  took  their  stations.  The  bands 
struck  up  a  succession  of  martial  tunes, 
and  the  procession  then  moved  forward. 
The  ladies,  in  their  Turkish  habits,  led 
the  way  ;  and,  as  they  passed,  they  were 
saluted  by  the  knights,  who  dismounted 
and  joined  them.  Thus  the  whole  com 
pany  passed  through  a  second  triumphal 
arch  into  the  garden  which  fronted  the 
"  Wharton  mansion." 

The  second  arch,  like  the  first,  was  of 
the  Tuscan  order,  and  was  dedicated  to 
Sir  William  Howe.  On  the  interior  part 
of  the  pediment  was  painted  a  plume  of 
feathers,  and  various  military  trophies. 
At  the  top  stood  the  figure  of  Fame,  and 
in  the  entablature  was  this  Latin  inscrip 
tion  :  "_Z,  boiio,  quo  virtus  tua  te  vocat ;  I pcde 
famto :  Go,  GOOD  ONE,  WHERE  THY  VIRTUE 

SHALL    CALL    THEE  ;    MAY    PROSPERITY    ATTEND 

THY  STEPS  !"  On  the  right-hand  pillar  was 
placed  a  bomb,  and  on  the  left  a  flaming 
heart.  The  front  of  the  arch  next  to  the 
house  Avas  covered  with  fireworks,  ar 
ranged  in  ornamental  forms,  ready  to  be 
fired  in  the  course  of  the  night. 

From  the  garden  a  flight  of  steps  cov 
ered  with  carpet  led  to  a  spacious  hall, 
which  was  adorned  with  panelling  paint 
ed  in  imitation  of  Sienna  marble,  cleverly 
executed  by  Captain  Andre  himself,  who 
had  transferred  his  brush  from  the  canvas 
of  the  theatre  to  the  walls  of  the  Whar- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  BALL  AND  THE  BANQUET. 


611 


ton  house  for  this  grand  occasion.  In  the 
hall  and  in  the  adjoining  apartments  were 
prepared  ten,  lemonade,  and  other  cooling 
drinks,  to  which  the  company  seated  them 
selves  according  to  the  comfortable  prac 
tice  of  those  good  old-fashioned  times. 
While  they  were  thus  regaling  them 
selves,  the  knights  came  in,  and  on  bend 
ed  knees  received  their  favors  from  their 
respective  ladies. 

There  was  one  apartment  of  the  man 
sion  especially  devoted  to  the  most  ab 
sorbing  interest  of  that  time.  Here  was 
the  faro-table  ;  and,  as  if  mocking  at  their 
own  vice,  these  reckless  debauchees  had 
painted  on  a  panel  over  the  chimney,  so 
that  it  might  be  the  first  object  seen  on 
entering  the  room,  a  cornucopia,  filled  to 
overflowing  with  flowers  of  the  richest 
colors,  while  over  the  door  of  exit  was 
represented  another,  which  was  shrunk, 
reversed,  and  emptied  !  Thus  was  sym 
bolized  the  doom  of  the  gamester,  who,  en 
tering;  with  abundance,  was  destined  to 

O  ^ 

go  away  empty  from  that  fatal  hall. 

Above  these  lower  apartments  were 
ball  and  refreshment  rooms,  illuminated 
with  hundreds  of  wax-lights,  hung  with 
rose-colored  dmpery,  painted  with  grace 
ful  forms  and  rich  devices,  festooned  with 
wreaths  of  natural  flowers,  and  all  reflect 
ed  brilliantly  from  the  numerous  mirrors 
on  the  walls.  The  ball  was  opened  by 
the  knights  and  their  ladies, and  the  dance 
was  kept  up  until  ten  o'clock,  when  the 
windows  were  thrown  open  on  that  warm 
spring  night,  and  a  magnificent  bouquet 
of  rockets  began  the  display  of  fireworks, 
which  had  been  prepared  under  the  su- 
pei  vision  of  Cap  tain  Montressor,  the  chief- 


May  18, 


engineer.  As  the  rockets  shot  into  the 
air,  and  the  fire-balloons  burst  into  a  blaze 
of  light,  the  interior  of  the  triumphal  arch 
was  illuminated.  The  military  trophies 
shone  out  resplendently  in  variegated  col 
ors  ;  and  Fame  appeared  at  the  summit, 
spangled  with  stars,  and  blowing  from  her 
trumpet  in  letters  of  light,  " Lcs  lauricrs 
sont  immortels :  His  LAURELS  ARE  IMMORTAL." 

At  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  sup 
per  was  announced  ;  and  large 
folding-doors,  until  this  moment  artfully 
hidden,  were  suddenly  thrown  open,  dis 
covering  a  magnificent  saloon  of  two  hun 
dred  and  ten  feet  by  forty,  and  twenty- 
two  feet  in  height,  with  three  alcoves  on 
each  side,  which  served  as  sideboards.  The 
ceiling  was  the  segment  of  a  circle  ;  and 
the  sides  were  painted  of  a  light  straw- 
color,  with  vine-leaves  and  festoons  of 
flowers,  some  in  a  bright,  some  in  a  dark 
ish  green.  Fifty-six  large  pier-glasses,  or 
namented  with  green-silk  artificial  flow 
ers  and  ribbons ;  one  hundred  branches, 
with  three  lights  in  each,  trimmed  in  the 
same  manner  as  the  mirrors ;  eighteen 
lustres,  each  with  twenty-four  lights,  sus 
pended  from  the  ceiling,  and  ornamented 
as  the  branches;  three  hundred  wax-ta 
pers,  disposed  along  the  supper-tables; 
four  hundred  and  thirty  covers;  twelve 
hundred  dishes  ;  twenty-four  black  slaves 
in  oriental  dresses,  with  silver  collars  and 
bracelets,  ranged  in  two  lines,  and  bend 
ing  to  the  ground  as  the  general  and  the 
admiral  approached  the  saloon,  formed 
together  "  the  most  brilliant  assemblage 
of  gay  objects,  and  appearing  at  once  as 
we  entered  by  an  easy  descent,"  wrote 
Captain  Andre,  in  his  glowing  account  of 


612 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


the  scene,  "  exhibited  a  coup  d'adl  beyond 
description  magnificent." 

Toward  the  close  of  the  ban 
quet,  the  herald  of  the  "  Blended 
Rose,"  habited  in  his  robes  of  ceremony, 
and  attended  by  his  trumpeters,  entered 
the  saloon,  and  proclaimed  the  health  of 
the  king,  the  queen,  and  the  royal  fami 
ly  ;  the  army  and  the  navy,  with  their  re 
spective  commanders ;  the  knights  and 
their  ladies;  and  the  ladies  in  general  — 
each  of  the  toasts  being  followed  by  a 
flourish  of  music.  After  supper;  the  dan 
cing  was  resumed,  and  was  kept  up  until 
four  o'clock  the  next  morning. 

The  ladies  present  on  the  occasion  were 
all  Americans,  with  the  exception  of  Miss 
Auchmuty,  the  subsequent  bride  of  Cap 
tain  Montressor.  They  became  memora 
ble  ever  after  as  the  " Mischianza  ladies" 
and  a  rigid  patriotism  frowned  awhile  up 
on  them,  but  it  soon  yielded  to  the  smiles 
of  beauty ;  and  Americans,  in  their  pro 
verbial  gallantry  toward  the  other  sex, 
forgot  all  distinctions  between  "tory"  and 
"  whig."  Miss  Shippen,  one  of  the  fairest 
damsels  of  the  Miwhianza,  became  after 
ward  the  dashing  bride  of  General  Ar 
nold.  Miss  Franks,  rendered  famous  by 
General  Charles  Lee's  witty  letter  ad 
dressed  to  her,  was  the  reigning  belle  on 
the  occasion.  She  attracted  all  by  the 


blaze  of  her  beauty,  only  to  wither  them 
in  the  fire  of  her  wit.  "  Give  us  'Britons, 
strike  home  /' "  shouted  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
to  the  musicians.  "The  commander-in- 
chief  has  made  a  mistake,"  exclaimed  Miss 
Franks;  he  meant  to  say,  '  Britons — go 
home!"1  She  is  acknowledged  to  have 
been  beaten  only  once  in  those  martial 
days,  in  the  war  of  words,  which  she  was 
ever  ready  to  wage  with  whig  or  tory, 
general  or  subaltern,  and  then  by  that 
old  campaigner,  in  the  letter  to  which  al 
lusion  has  been  made,  and  which  she  re 
ceived  with  anger,  a  sure  sign  of  defeat. 
"Paine,"  observes  Lossing,  "in  one  of 
the  numbers  of  his  paper  called  '  The  Cri- 
s/s,'gfwe  a  laughable  account'of  this  farce" 
(of  the  Mischianza).  "Alluding  to  Gen 
eral  Howe,  he  says, t  He  bounces  off,  with 
his  bombs  and  burning  hearts  set  upon 
the  pillars  of  his  triumphant  arch,  which, 
at  the  proper  time  of  the  show,  burst  out 
with  a  shower  of  squibs  and  crackers,  and 
other  fireworks,  to  the  delight  and  amaze 
ment  of  Miss  Craig,  Miss  Chew,  Miss  Red 
man,  and  all  the  other  misses,  dressed  out 
as  the  fair  damsels  of  the  Blended  Rose, 
and  of  the  Burning  Mountain,  for  this 
farce  of  knight-errantry.'*  How  strange 
that  such  sensible  men  as  these  two  com 
manders  were,  should  have  consented  to 
receive  such  gross  adulation  !" 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       THE  CONSPIRATORS  AT  WORK.— CONWAY  AND  GATES.         613 


CHAPTER    LXVII. 

Washington  and  his  Slanderers. — General  Gates  in  Opposition.— General  Conway. — Letter  from  Washington. — Conway 
made  Inspector-General. — The  Anti-Washington  Faction  in  the  Ascendant. —  The  Cabal. — Intrigue. — Exposure. — 
General  Wilkinson. — His  Account  of  the  Affair. — Lord  Stirling  in  his  Cups. — A  Challenge. — No  Blood  shed. — Con- 
way  detected  and  exposed. — His  Resignation. — His  Duel  with  General  Cadwallader. — Atonement  of  a  Dying  Man. — 
An  Immortality  of  Dishonor. — Improvement  at  Valley  Forge. — Supplies. — Arrival  of  Mrs.  Washington. — Visitors. — 
General  Charles  Lee  exchanged. — His  Arrival  in  the  American  Camp. — Ethan  Allen. — Lafayette  appointed  to  com 
mand  an  Expedition  to  Canada. — The  Marquis  remains  faithful  to  Washington. — He  is  flattered  in  vain  by  the  "  Ca 
bal." — To  Albany  and  back  again. — Baron  Steuben. — His  Life  and  Character. — He  is  appointed  Inspector-General. — 
Anecdotes. — The  Baron's  Services. 


1778, 


THERE  were  not  only  the  trials  of 
the  command  of  an  army  of  fam 
ishing  soldiers,  constantly  on  the  verge 
of  mutiny,  to  which  their  crying  wants 
provoked  and  almost  justified  them  in 
yielding,  to  perplex  the  head  and  wound 
the  heart  of  Washington;  he  was  now 
tormented  by  the  stings  of  scandal,  and 
harassed  by  the  opposition  of  the  factions 
in  the  army  and  in  Congress.  The  com- 
mander-in-chief  had  long  been  conscious 
that  there  were  some  who  were  disposed 
to  depreciate  his  military  character,  and 
elevate  their  own  at  his  expense.  He 
saw  that  General  Gates,  forgetful  of  his 
old  friendship,  and  though  bound  to  him 
by  every  tie  of  gratitude,  had  become  dis 
affected,  and  neglected  no  opportunity  of 
wounding  his  sensibilities  and  thwarting  ! 
his  purposes.  Gates  was  a  vain  man,  and 
his  triumph  at  Saratoga,  and  the  flatte 
ries  which  followed,  seem  to  have  raised 
him  to  such  a  giddy  height  in  his  own 
esteem,  that  his  head  turned.  After  the 
surrender  of  Burgoyne, ordinary  courtesy 
should  have  impelled  General  Gates  to 
write  to  Washington,  but  he  was  guilty 


of  the  indignity  of  neglecting  this  obvi 
ous  duty.  The  commander-in-chief,  with 
conscious  dignity,  either  left  these  marks 
of  disrespect  and  indications  of  opposition 
unnoticed,  or  remarked  upon  them  as  the 
usual  accompaniments  of  high  trust  and 
position.  When,  however,  he  discovered 
that  his  enemies  were  seriously  organi 
zing  into  a  party  to  overthrow  him,  and 
to  take  the  lead  in  the  conduct  of  affairs, 
he  was  resolved  to  check  them,  if  not  for 
his  own  sake,  yet  for  the  sake  of  the  cause 
which  he  loved  too  much  to  expose  to  the 
mercy  of  such  guides. 

The  first  notice  which  the  general-in- 
chief  deigned  to  take  of  the  intrigues  of 
his  enemies,  was  this  note  from  him  to 
General  Conway :  — 

"  CAMI>,  Nov.  16,  1777. 

"  SIR  :  A  letter  which  I  received  last 
night  contained  the  following  paragraph  : 

"  '  In  a  letter  from  General  Conway  to 
General  Gates,  he  says,  "Heaven  has  deter 
mined  to  save  your  country,  or  a  wca/c  general 
and  bad  counsellors  ivould  have  ruined  it." ' 
"  I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 


614 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


Dec.  16. 


General  Conway,  on  the  receipt  of  this, 
without  denying  the  words  which  were 
attributed  to  him,  strove  immediately,  by 
letter,  or  an  interview  with  the  command- 
er-in-chief,  to  explain  them  away  5  but  the 
result  was  so  unsatisfactory,  that,  appa 
rently  in  conscious  guilt,  he  offered  his 
resignation.  This  was  not  accepted,  and 
in  the  course  of  a  month,  and  near  the 
close  of  the  year  1777,  Conway 
was  appointed  inspector-general 
of  the  army,  with  the  rank  of  major-gen 
eral.  The  bitterest  opponent  of  Wash 
ington  was  thus  elevated  by  Congress  to 
this  high  position  even  after  his  intrigues 
against  the  commander-in-chief  had  be- 

o 

come  known,  and  when  Washington  had 
already  (before  he  was  aware  of  Conway's 
personal  attacks  upon  him)  written  these 
words  while  the  question  was  being  agi 
tated  months  before  about  such  an  ap 
pointment:  "It  will  be  as  unfortunate  a 
measure  as  ever  was  adopted  ;  I  may  add, 
and  I  think  with  truth,  that  it  will  give  a 
fatal  blow  to  the  existence  of  the  army." 
The  faction  opposed  to  Washington, 
however,  was  now  in  the  ascendant  in 
Congress.  A  board  of  war  was  appoint 
ed,  in  which  those  suspected  of  intrigues 
against  the  commander-in-chief  formed 
the  majority,  and  were  the  most  promi 
nent  members.  General  Gates  became 
president ;  General  Mifflin,  supposed  to 
be  leagued  with  Gates  and  Conway  in  an 
effort  to  supplant  Washington,  and  place 
one  of  the  three  in  the  chief  command, 
was  a  member;  Timothy  Pickering,  late 
adjutant-general,  Joseph  Trumbull,  the 
former  commissary,  and  Richard  Peters, 
composed  the  rest  of  the  new  board.  Si 


multaneously  with  the  creation  of  this 
board,  Conway  received  his  appointment 
as  inspector-general,  with  the  rank  of 
major-general,  and  was  thus  promoted 
above  all  the  brigadiers  of  older  date  ! 
The  army,  by  whom  Washington  was  be 
loved  above  all, became  indignant, and  the 
officers  and  soldiers  freely  denounced  the 
faction  which  they  did  not  hesitate  to  de 
clare  controlled  the  action  of  Congress, 
to  the  injury  of  the  great  interests  of  the 
country.  But  faction  continued  awhile 
to  govern  that  body,  and  some  of  its  mem 
bers  strove  by  secret  as  wrell  as  by  open 
means  to  accomplish  their  partisan  ends. 
Anonymous  letters  were  written  to  the 
governors  of  the  states  and  to  the  officials 
of  Congress,  to  sound  them  and  to  gain 
them  over,  by  attacks  upon  the  military 
conduct  of  Washington  and  his  favorite 
officers,  by  laudatory  accounts  of  the  tri 
umphs  of  Gates,  and  of  the  ability  of  that 
general  and  his  friends. 

The  letter  of  Washington  to  Conway, 
however,  brought  the  whole  intrigue  to 
an  issue ;  and  when  the  army  and  the 
country  showed  their  indignation  at  this 
attempt  to  destroy  the  character  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  there  was  not  one  of 
those  suspected  who  was  not  anxious  to 
clear  himself  of  all  suspicion  of  being  a 
participator  in  the  disreputable  scheme. 
On  hearing  of  Washington's  letter  to  Con- 
way,  General  Gates  at  first  seemed  only 
eager  to  discover  the  person  who  had  be 
trayed  his  confidence  ;  but  when  popular 
indignation  was  excited,  his  subsequent 
efforts,  in  the  course  of  which  he  wrote 
several  prevaricating  and  contradictory 
letters  to  Washington,  were  directed  tow- 


RKVOLUTTONATIY.] 


WILKINSON  AND  LORD  STIRLING. 


G15 


ard  explaining  the  offensive  passage  quo 
ted,  winch,  having  been  repeated  in  the 
course  of  conversation,  may  not  have  been 
literally  given,  though  it  is  now  general 
ly  believed  to  have  presented  the  spirit 
of  the  original  words. 

Wilkinson,  who  was  a  heedless,  loqua 
cious  youth,  at  that  time,  and  much  given 
to  vaunting  his  intimacy  with  the  then 
"great  man"  of  the  day  (General  Gates), 
was  the  one  to  whom  was  traced  the 
abuse  of  confidence  of  which  Gates  so 
strongly  complained.  It  will  be  recollect 
ed  that  Wilkinson  was  sent  to  Congress, 
to  present  Gates's  report  of  his  triumph 
at  Saratoga.  In  the  course  of  his  jour 
ney,  his  progress  was  so  slow  (whether 
from  a  desire  of  prolonging  the  glory  re 
flected  upon  him  by  his  message,  or  from 
the  mere  distractions  of  pleasure  natural 
to  youth),  that  when  it  was  proposed  in 
Congress,  upon  his  arrival,  that  a  sword 
should  be  voted  him  as  the  bearer  of  such 
good  news,  Doctor  Witherspoon,  then  a 
member,  shrewdly  observed  in  his  native 
Scotch,  "  I  think  yc'll  better  gie  the  lad  a  pair 
0'  spurs  /"  While  Wilkinson  was  leisurely 
pursuing  his  way, big  with  the  importance 
of  his  commission,  he  put  up  at  Reading, 
in  Pennsylvania.  But  we  shall  let  him 
tell  his  own  story  :  — 

"  I  arrived,"  says  Wilkinson,  "  the  even 
ing  of  the  27th  [of  October],  and  was  vis 
ited  by  General  Mifflin,  with  whom  I  had 
been  acquainted  at  the  siege  of  Boston. 
He  wished  me  to  take  tea  with  him,  and 
I  found  two  eastern  members  of  Congress 
at  his  house.  I  was  minutely  questioned 
by  them  respecting  the  military  opera 
tions  in  the  North;  General  Washington's 


misfortunes  were  strictured  severely  by 
them,  and  General  Conway's  criticisms 
again  mentioned.  General  Mifflin  ap 
peared  exceedingly  despondent,  and  ob 
served  that  he  considered  the  insurance 
of  buildings  at  Eeading  against  the  dep 
redations  of  the  enemy  worthy  reflection. 

"  This  evening  it  began  to  rain,  and  the 
next  day  it  fell  in  torrents.  Lord  Stir 
ling  was  confined  at  this  village  [Read 
ing],  in  consequence  of  a  fall  from  his 
horse  ;  and  being  myself  detained  by  the 
weather,  for  I  dared  not  ride  in  the  rain, 
I  consented  at  his  earnest  request  to  take 
a  pot-luck  dinner  with  him,  and  was  hap 
py  to  meet  my  friend  Major  Monroe  (af 
terward  president),  in  capacity  of  aid-de 
camp  to  his  lordship.  With  a  noble  de 
portment  and  dignified  manners,  Lord 
Stirling  combined  sound  education  and 
respectable  talents.  I  speak  of  his  foibles 
with  reluctance,  for  he  was  an  officer  of 
conspicuous  gallantry.  His  addictions 
were  notorious,  and  his  fondness  for  a 
long  set  not  the  least  remarkable,  for  no 
man  could  be  more  strongly  disposed  to 
fight  his  battles  over  again.  The  earl 
had  another  aid-de-camp,  by  the  name  of 
M' Williams,  whom  I  had  never  seen  be 
fore. 

"  We  dined  agreeably,  and  I  did  not 
get  away  from  his  lordship  before  mid 
night,  the  rain  continuing  to  pour  down 
without  intermission.  In  the  course  of 
the  day,  his  lordship  fought  over  the  bat 
tle  of  Long  island  in  detail,  and  favored 
me  with  recitals  of  all  the  affairs  in  which 
he  had  subsequently  performed  a  part; 
and  I  reciprocated  information  of  such 
transactions  in  the  North  as  could  inter- 


GIG 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


est  or  amuse  him.  The  conversation  was 
too  copious  and  diffuse  for  me  to  have 
charged  my  memory  with  particulars,  and 
from  the  circumstances  of  it  was  confi 
dential." 

His  lordship,  notwithstanding  his  "ad 
dictions,"  did  not  seem  on  that  occasion 
to  have  poured  down  wine  of  sufficient 
potency  to  steal  away  his  brains ;  for  his 
memory  remained  in  such  full  possession, 
that  he  distinctly  recollected  that  Wilkin 
son  had  said  that  General  Gates  had  re 
ceived  a  letter  in  which  were  these  words, 
Avritten  by  Gonway :  "  Heaven  has  deter 
mined  to  save  your  country,  or  a  weak 
general  and  bad  counsellors  would  have 
ruined  it,"  The  earl  immediately  wrote 
the  words  down,  and  sent  them  to  Wash 
ington,  with  his  authority ;  and  the  coin- 
mander-in-chief,  as  we  have  seen,  sent 
them  back  to  Conwa}^  and  thus  brought 
the  "  Conway  cabal"  (as  it  has  been  called) 
to  light,  and  subsequent  dishonor. 

Wilkinson  was  provoked  at  being  dis 
covered  as  the  cause  of  the  excitement 
which  ensued,  and  being  made  the  object 
of  the  indignation  of  his  patron,  General 
Gates.  In  the  fretting  of  his  youthful 
spirit,  he  declared,  "  My  lord  shall  bleed 
for  his  conduct!"  but  he  first  determined 
that  the  blood  of  Gates  should  flow,  the 
general  having  denounced  him  in  strong 
terms  for  his  abuse  of  confidence.  A  chal 
lenge  was  given  and  accepted,  and  the 
preliminaries  for  the  duello  were  all  ar 
ranged,  when  Wilkinson,  according  to  his 
own  report  of  the  occurrence,  being  fully 
armed  and  accompanied  by  his  seconds, 
on  proceeding  to  the  ground,  was  called 
aside  by  Captain  Stoddert,  and  informed 


that  General  Gates  desired  to  speak  with 
him. 

"I  expressed  my  astonishment,"  says 
Wilkinson,  "  and  observed  it  was  impos 
sible.  He  replied,  with  much  agitation  : 
1  For  God's  sake,  be  not  always  a  fool ! 
Come  along,  and  see  him  !'  Struck  with 
the  manner  of  my  friend,!  inquired  where 
the  general  was.  He  answered,  '  In  the 
street,near  the  door.'  The  surprise  robbed 
me  of  circumspection.  I  requested  Colo 
nel  Ball  [his  second]  to  halt,  and  followed 
Captain  Stoddert.  I  found  General  Gates 
unarmed  and  alone, and  was  received  with 
tenderness  but  manifest  embarrassment. 
He  asked  me  to  walk,  turned  into  a  back 
street,  and  we  proceeded  in  silence  till 
we  passed  the  buildings,  when  he  burst 
into  tears,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and 
asked  me  how  I  could  think  he  wished 
to  injure  me.  I  was  too  deeply  affected 
to  speak,  and  he  relieved  my  embarrass 
ment  by  continuing :  '/injure  you?  It 
is  impossible  !  I  should  as  soon  think  of 
injuring  my  own  child.'  This  language 
not  only  disarmed  me,  but  awakened  all 
my  confidence  and  all  my  tenderness." 
Wilkinson  went  away  satisfied,  but  still 
bent  upon  carrying  out  his  bloody  de 
signs  against  Lord  Stirling. 

Wilkinson  wrote  a  letter  to  his  lord 
ship,  in  which  he  did  not  pretend  to  deny 
having  quoted  the  words  sent  to  Wash 
ington,  although  in  his  explanations  with 
Gates  he  appeared  to  be  entirely  uncon 
scious  of  having  done  so,  but  merely  re 
quired  from  Stirling  a  statement  that  the 
conversation  he  had  published  "passed 
in  a  private  company  during  a  convivial 
hour."  The  earl  could  not  refuse  so  rea- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         CONWAY'S  "  CABAL."— DUEL  WITH  CADWALLADER. 


617 


sonable  a  request,  and  readily  certified  to 
the  fact;  which  was  so  satisfactory,  that 
it  not  only  proved  a  balm  to  the  wound 
of  Wilkinson's  nice  sensibility,  but  a  pre 
ventive  of  the  mischief  threatening  his 
lordship. 

General  Conway  was  deemed  the  main 
instigator  of  these  disgraceful  intrigues 
against  Washington ;  and  the  country 
soon  began  to  discover,  as  the  command- 
er-in-chief  had  predicted,  that  he  was  u  a 
secret  enemy,  or,  in  other  words,  a  dan 
gerous  incendiary."  Sustained  by  a  ma 
jority  in  Congress,  Conway  enjoyed  a 
short  triumph ;  but,  as  he  became  inso 
lent  and  overbearing  in  success,  he  soon 
disgusted  even  those  who  had  been  his 
warmest  friends.  Not  satisfied  with  wri 
ting  letters  to  the  commander-in-chief, 
which  the  latter  did  not  hesitate  to  term 
"  impertinent,"  demanding  the  command 
of  a  division  in  the  army,  he  ventured  to 
complain  to  Congress  of  ill  treatment, 
and  to  offer  his  resignation,  in  such  terms 
of  contemptuous  disrespect,  that  even  his 
friends  did  not  oppose  the  vote  that  it 
should  be  accepted.  Conway  himself  was 
sorely  displeased  at  being  taken  at  his 
word,  and  afterward  strove,  by  letter  and 
personal  interview,  to  withdraw  his  resig 
nation,  but  without  effect.  Without  em 
ployment,  he  still  lingered  in  America, 
venting  his  spleen  upon  Washington  and 
his  army,  when  he  was  called  to  account 
by  G eneral  Cad  wallade r.  A  d tiel  was  the 
consequence ;  and  Conway  received  the 
ball  of  his  antagonist,  which  passed  into 
his  mouth  and  through  the  upper  part  of 
his  neck,  in  its  course  justly  lacerating 
that  "unruly  member"  which  had  villified 
78 


the  character  and  motives  of  the  great 

o 

chief.  He  believed  himself  to  be  a  dying 
man,  and  had  the  grace  to  write  the  fol 
lowing  letter  to  Washington  :  — 

"  SIR  :  I  find  myself  just  able  to  hold 
the  pen  during  a  few  minutes,  and  take 
this  opportunity  of  expressing  my  sincere 
grief  for  having  done,  written,  or  said  any 
thing  disagreeable  to  your  excellency. 
My  career  will  soon  be  over ;  therefore 
justice  and  truth  prompt  me  to  declare 
my  last  sentiments.  You  are,  in  my  eyes, 
the  great  and  good  man.  May  you  long  en 
joy  the  love,  veneration,  and  esteem,  of 
these  states,  whose  liberties  you  have  as 
serted  by  your  virtues. 

"  I  am, 

"  With  the  greatest  respect,  &c., 
"THOMAS  CONWAY." 

The  wounded  general,  however,  sur 
vived  his  injuries,  and  returned  to  France, 
his  adopted  country  ;  leaving  behind  him, 
as  an  immortality  of  dishonor  in  America, 
the  ill-favored  association  of  his  name 
with  the  disreputable  "  Conway  cabal." 

Toward  spring,  the  aspect  of  the  Amer 
ican  camp  became  more  encouraging.  A 
committee  of  Congress  had  been  sent  to 
Valley  Forge,  to  confer  with  Washington 
upon  the  organization  of  a  better  system 
for  the  army.  The  commander-in-chief, 
in  conjunction  with  his  officers,  prepared 
a  document,  in  which  a  plan  of  reform 
was  laid  down,  which  subsequently  was 
for  the  most  part  adopted.  There  was 
yet  much  suffering,  before  the  new  sys 
tem  could  be  thoroughly  carried  out ;  but 
already  supplies  began  to  arrive,  and  the 
troops,  if  still  deprived  of  comforts,  were 


r~ 


618 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


no  lono;er  in  imminent  dread  of  frost  and 

O 

famine. 

The  camp  was  also  enlightened  by  the 
arrival  of  some  distinguished  visitors. 
Mrs.  Washington  had  come  to  solace  with 
her  presence  the  trials  and  anxieties  of 
the  general,  and  was  cheerfully  submit 
ting  to  the  rude  hospitalities  of  the  log- 
huts  of  Valley  Forge.  General  Greene, 
Lord  Stirling, and  General  Knox,likewise 
had  their  wives  now  in  camp.  Bryan  Fair 
fax,  his  old  Virginia  friend  and  neighbor, 
who,  though  still  loyal  to  his  king,  did 
not  fail  to  show  his  warm  attachment  to 
the  American  general  by  a  cordial  visit 
on  his  way  from  the  banks  of  the  Poto 
mac  to  New  York,  and  again  on  his  re 
turn.  General  Charles  Lee,  by  an  ex- 
ihange  for  the  British  general  Prescott 
captured  on  Rhode  island),  was  now  re 
instated  in  his  old  position  as  second  in 
command,  and,  although  still  tenacious  of 
his  oddities,  was  observed  to  be  more  sub 
dued  in  the  exhibition  of  them.  During 
the  later  days  of  his  captivity  he  had  had 
little  to  complain  of  in  his  treatment.  He 
enjoyed,  as  he  tells  us,  the  full  liberty  of 
the  city  of  New  York  and  its  limits ;  had 
horses  at  his  command,  furnished  by  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  and  General  Robertson ; 
and  had  lodged  with  two  of  "the  oldest 
and  warmest  friends"  he  had  in  the  world, 
Colonel  Butler  and  Colonel  Disney,  of  the 
forty-second  regiment.  With  this  taste 
of  the  conventional  comforts  of  life  and 
of  the  pleasures  of  society,  Lee  seemed 
temporarily  sweetened  to  a  better  humor, 
and  his  return  was  cordially  welcomed. 
He  soon  recurred,  however,  to  his  old  bit 
terness  of  temper. 


The  brawny  Colonel  Ethan  Allen  was 
also  restored  to  liberty,  and  was  flashing 
out, in  his  stormy  eloquence,  the  lightning 
of  his  indignation  against  the  tyrants  of 
his  country.  He  found  ready  listeners, 
in  the  camp  at  Valley  Forge,  to  his  rude 
oratory  and  to  the  wondrous  story  he 
had  to  tell  of  his  strange  adventures  and 
daring  feats  during  his  long  captivity  and 
compulsory  travels.  He  was,  he  declared, 
ready  again  to  meet  the  foes  of  his  coun 
try  ;  and  Washington  having  obtained  for 
him  a  colonel's  commission,  it  was  expect 
ed  that  he  would  still  have  remained  to 
do  doughty  deeds,  but  he  preferred  to 
return  to  his  adopted  country  (Vermont), 
where  he  lived  to  tell  over  and  over,  in 
swelling  words,  the  history  of  his  strange 
experience. 

The  young  marquis  Lafayette  had  been 
temporarily  withdrawn  from  the  camp. 
The  new  board  of  war,  under  the  presi 
dency  of  General  Gates,  had  proposed  an 
expedition  against  Canada.  This  was 
supposed  to  have  been  devised  for  the  es 
pecial  glory  of  the  "  Con  way  cabal ;"  and 
an  appointment  in  the  enterprise  was  of 
fered  to  the  young  Frenchman,  with  the 
hope  of  securing  his  adhesion  to  that  fac 
tion.  Lafayette  accepted  the  offer — not. 
however, until  he  had  consulted  Washing 
ton —  and  soon  proved  that  all  attempts 
upon  his  fidelity  to  the  coinmander-in- 
chief  were  futile.  His  first  rebuke,  ad 
ministered  to  the  conspirators,  was  at 
Yorktown,  where  he  had  gone  to  receive 
from  Congress  his  instructions.  Here  he 
was  welcomed  by  the  "  cabal,"  and  flat 
tered  by  every  possible  attention.  Dining 
with  General  Gates,  who  was  surrounded 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  BARON  STEUBEN. 


619 


by  <i  circle  of  his  particular  friends  and 
admirers,  the  wine  passed  freely,  and,  as 
was  usual  in  those  days,  toasts  were  given. 
As  the  company  were  about  rising,  La 
fayette  filled  his  glass,  and,  reminding 
those  at  the  table  that  they  had  forgot 
ten  one  toast,  gave  deliberately,  "  The 
commander-in-chief  of  the  American  ar 
mies."  It  was  received  with  a  coolness 
which  ^proved  what  he  had  suspected  — 
that  he  was  not  surrounded  by  the  friends 
of  Washington. 

Lafayette,  however,  proceeded  on  his 
journey ;  but,  on  reaching  Albany,  where 
he  had  been  led  to  believe  that  at  least 
three  thousand  men  and  a  large  supply 
of  military  stores  were  in  readiness  for 
the  expedition  to  Canada,  he  met  with  a 
great  disappointment,  which  is  emphatic 
ally  described  in  his  letter  to  Washing 
ton  :  "I  don't  believe,"  he  writes,  "I  can 
find,  in  all,  twelve  hundred  men  fit  for 
duty,  and  the  greatest  part  of  these  are 
naked,  even  for  a  summer  campaign.  I 
was  to  find  General  Stark,  with  a  large 
body;  and,  indeed, General  Gates  told  me, 
'  General  Stark  will  have  burned  the  fleet  be 
fore  your  arrival!  Well,  the  first  letter  I 
receive  in  Albany  is  from  General  Stark, 
who  wishes  to  know  what  number  of  men, 
from  where,  what  time,  and  for  what  ren 
dezvous,  I  desire  him  to  raise" 

The  young  marquis,  with  the  nice  sense 
of  ridicule  peculiar  to  a  cultivated  French 
man,  was  heartily  ashamed  of  the  affair, 
and,  with  rather  unnecessary  sensitive 
ness,  was  fearful  that  he  was  disgraced  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world  for  the  failure  of 
an  expedition  so  fruitful  in  promise  but 
so  abortive  in  issue.  He  wrote  to  Wash 


ington,  expressing  his  anxieties,  and  re 
ceived  an  answer,  in  which  he  was  judi 
ciously  told  that  his  fears  respecting  his 
reputation  were  "  excited  by  an  uncom 
mon  degree  of  sensibility."  The  young 
Frenchman  soon  returned  to  the  camp  at 
Valley  Forge,  wrhere  he  resumed  his  com 
mand  of  a  division  of  the  army,  and  his 
frequent  intercourse  with  Washington,  by 
whom  he  was  greatly  beloved. 

There  was  another  arrival  in  the  camp, 
of  more  importance  than  all.  It  was  that 
of  the  baron  FREDERICK  WILLIAM  AUGUSTUS 
STEUBEN,  a  distinguished  Prussian  officer. 
An  old  aid-de-camp  of  the  great  Freder 
ick,  he  had  learned  and  practised  war  un 
der  the  first  military  tactician  of  Europe, 
and  now  came  with  a  singular  vicissitude 
to  impart  to  a  people  struggling  for  in 
dependence  the  lessons  which  he  had  ac 
quired  in  the  service  of  the  most  arbitra 
ry  of  kings.  Steuben's  repute  in  Europe 
was  so  high,  that  crowned  heads  competed 
for  him  as  an  officer  in  their  armies.  The 
emperor  of  Austria  and  the  king  of  Sar 
dinia  both  liberally  bid  for  his  services ; 
and  he  was  created  grand  marshal  of  the 
court  of  Prince  Hohenzollern-Heckingen, 
and  lieutenant-general  and  knight  of  the 
order  of  Fidelity  under  the  prince-mar 
grave  of  Baden,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of 
other  dignities,  with  an  emolument  which 
amounted  to  about  three  thousand  dollars 
annually,  when  he  resolved  upon  going 
to  America. 

While  visiting  Paris,  the  baron  listened 
with  interest  to  the  accounts  which  he 
heard  from  the  French  ministers  of  the 
American  cause,  and  they  succeeded  in 
persuading  him  to  join  his  fortunes  with 


620 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


it.  Franklin  and  Deane,  then  the  Ameri 
can  ngents  in  France,  gladly  welcomed 
the  acquisition  of  the  baron,  from  whose 
thorough  practise  as  a  military  disciplina 
rian  they  expected  good  service  in  the 
training  of  the  loosely-ordered  American 
army,  and  gave  him  strong  letters  of  rec 
ommendation.  The  versatile  Beaumar- 
chais,  the  author  of  "Figaro"-—  by  turns 
watchmaker,  playwright,  courtier,  and 
financier — was  just  then,  while  perform 
ing  in  the  last  capacity,  under  the  aus 
pices  of  the  French  court,  supplying  the 
United  States  with  money  and  military 
stores.  Under  the  assumed  mercantile 
names  of"  Roderique,  Hotales,  and  Com 
pany,"  the  ever-active  Beaumarchais  had 
got  ready  a  ship  and  a  cargo  for  his  cus 
tomers  in  America,  and  he  now  offered 
the  baron  Steuben  a  passage.  Lc  Ilmrmx 
(for  that  was  the  well-omened  name  of 
the  vessel)  made  a  rough  and  dangerous 
voyage,  but  finally  landed  the  baron  in 
safety  at  Portsmouth,  in  New  Hampshire, 
on  the  1st  of  November,  1777.  On  his 
arrival,  he  sent  forward  his  letters  from 
Franklin  and  Deane,  with  one  from  him 
self,  to  Washington  :  — 

"  The  object  of  my  greatest  ambition," 
wrote  the  baron,  "  is  to  render  your  coun 
try  all  the  service  in  my  power,  and  to 
deserve  the  title  of  a  citizen  of  America, 
by  fighting  for  the  cause  of  your  liberty. 
If  the  distinguished  ranks  in  which  1  have 
served  in  Europe  should  be  an  obstacle, 
I  had  rather  serve  under  your  excellency 

»/  *' 

as  a  volunteer  than  to  be  an  object  of  dis 
content  among  such  deserving  officers  as 
have  already  distinguished  themselves 
among  you. 


"  I  could  say,  moreover,  were  it  not  for 
fear  of  offending  your  modesty,  that  your 
excellency  is  the  only  person  under  whom, 
after  having  served  under  the  king  of 
Prussia,  I  could  wish  to  pursue  an  art  to 
which  I  have  wholly  given  myself  up." 

Franklin,  in  his  letter,  spoke  warmly 
of  the  claims  of  Steuben.  "  He  goes  to 
America  with  a  true  zeal  for  our  cause, 
and  a  view  of  engaging  in  it,  and  render 
ing  it  all  the  service  in  his  power.  He 
is  recommended  to  us  by  two  of  the  best 
judges  of  military  merit  in  this  country, 
M.  le  comte  de  Vergennes  and  M.  le  comte 
de  St.  Germain,  who  have  long  been  per 
sonally  acquainted  with  him,  and  inter 
est  themselves  in  promoting-  his  voyage, 
from  the  full  persuasion  that  the  knowl 
edge  and  experience  he  has  acquired  by 
twenty  years'  study  and  practice  in  the 
Prussian  school  may  be  of  great  use  in 
our  armies." 

Steuben,  on  presenting  himself  to  Con 
gress,  offered  his  services  as  a  volunteer, 
which  wrere  accepted  with  expressions  of 
acknowledgment  for  his  generous  disin 
terestedness.  He  then  proceeded  to  the 
camp  at  Valley  Forge.  The  baron  made 
a  favorable  first  impression  upon  Wash 
ington,  who  thus  wrote  :  "He  appears  to 
be  much  of  a  gentleman,  and,  as  far  as  I 
have  had  an  opportunity  of  judging,  a 
man  of  military  knowledge,  and  acquaint 
ed  with  the  world."  He  had  not  been 
many  days  in  camp,  when  Washington  so 
highly  appreciated  his  abilities,  that  he 
recommended  Congress  to  appoint  him 
inspector-general  of  the  army,  an  office  to 
which  the  faction  had  raised  General  Con- 
way,  but  who  never  fulfilled  its  duties. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          CHARACTER  AND  SERVICES  OF  STEUBEN. 


621 


May  5, 


The  baron  Steuben  was  accordingly  ap 
pointed  inspector-general  of  the 
army,  with  the  rank  of  major- 
general,  and  immediately  assumed  his 
new  position.  Other  inspectors  were  ap 
pointed,  subordinate  to  him.  Of  these 
were  Ternant  and  Fleury,  both  of  whom 
were  gallant  and  efficient  officers,  who 
had  been  disciplined  in  the  armies  of 
France,  and  who,  being  fair  English  schol 
ars,  were  enabled  to  act  as  interpreters 
to  the  baron,  of  whose  aid  in  this  respect 
he  stood  greatly  in  need,  as  his  own  Eng 
lish  vocabulary  was  as  yet  very  limited. 
Steuben  was  also  glad  to  avail  himself  of 
the  assistance  of  Captain  Walker,  who  un 
derstood  French,  and  whom  he  appointed 
his  aid. 

The  baron,  with  his  portly  form,  his 
somewhat  venerable  appearance  (though 
he  was  but  forty-eight  years  of  age),  his 
rich  uniform,  his  splendid  diamond-and- 
gold  order  of  Fidelity  hanging  from  his 
neck,  and  his  military  formalities  of  man 
ner,  made  a  great  impression  upon  the 
raw  troops  whom  he  now  undertook  to 
teach  the  tactics  of  war.  He  was  a  rigid 
disciplinarian,  and  exacted  the  most  mi 
nute  obedience  to  orders.  His  scrutini 
zing  eye  was  everywhere  along  the  line, 
and  upon  each  soldier,  closely  inspecting 
every  position  and  every  article  of  accou 
trement  and  dress.  He  required  that  the 
musket  and  bayonet  should  exhibit  the 
brightest  polish ;  not  a  spot  of  rust,  or 
defect  in  any  part,  could  elude  his  vigi 
lance.  He  was  as  severe  in  his  exactions 
of  duty  from  the  officers  as  from  the  men. 
His  attention  was  directed  to  every  de 
partment.  From  the  surgeons  he  re 


quired  lists  of  the  sick,  a  statement  of 
their  accommodations  and  mode  of  treat 
ment,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  visit  the 
hospitals  himself. 

His  trials  may  well  be  conceived  to 
have  been  severe,  with  the  rude,  inde 
pendent  material  which  he  was  striving 
to  form  into  an  orderly  soldiery ;  and  on 
some  occasions  his  patience  and  his  vo 
cabulary  were  alike  exhausted.  "  Viens, 
Walker  ;  men,  bon  ami,  curse  !  G—d  d — n  de 
yaucherie  of  dese  badauts !  je  ne  puis  plus 
—  I  can  curse  dem  no  more  T  cried  out  the 
baron  one  day  to  Captain  Walker,  his  aid- 
de-camp,  when  the  stupidity  of  some  raw 
recruits  had  drawn  so  liberally  upon  his 
polyglott  vocabulary  of  oaths  as  to  leave 
him  destitute  of  resource. 

Severe,  however,  as  Steuben  was  as  a 
military  disciplinarian,  he  was  the  kindest 
of  human  creatures.  He  was  so  charita 
ble,  and  gave  away  his  money  so  freely, 
that  he  never  had  a  dollar  for  himself! 
Washington  said  that  if  any  specific  sum, 
however  large,  were  bestowed  upon  Steu 
ben,  his  generous  heart  would  keep  him 
poor,  and  he  would  die  a  beggar.  He 
was  simple  in  his  habits,  an  early  riser, 
and  a  moderate  man  at  the  table  ;  but  he 
was  so  socially  inclined,  that  he  always 
kept  open  house  for  all  who  came.  He 
was  so  generous,  that  he  was  known  to 
have  sold  his  watch,  to  supply  the  wants 
of  a  sick  friend  ;  and  his  horse,  to  enter 
tain  a  guest!  He  was  only  careless  of 
his  own  interests ;  and  while  his  own  ex 
chequer  was  empty,  and  his  accounts  in 
confusion,  he  was  so  regardful  of  the  pub 
lic  property  confided  to  his  trust,  that, 
while  inspector-general,  only  three  mus- 


622 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAHT  n. 


kets  were  found  deficient,  and  these  ac 
counted  for  in  his  return  to  the  war  de 
partment.  Before  his  appointment.,  five 
thousand  muskets  were  always  the  allow 
ance  made  in  the  estimate  for  loss,  in  the 
number  actually  supplied. 


Steuben's  services  in  organizing  and 
drilling  the  American  army  were  so  great, 
that  the  regulars  who  had  been  formed 
under  his  eye  were  said  never  to  have 
been  beaten  in  a  fair  engagement  with 
the  enemy. 


CHAPTER    LXVIII. 

Occasional  Skirmishes. — "Light-Horse  Harry." — A  Successful  Defence. — Wayne  and  Pulaski. — Successful  Encounters. 
— Captain  Barry  and  his  Row-Boats. — A  Prize. — Sir  Henry  Clinton  in  Danger. — The  Play  not  worth  the  Candle. — 
Fortification  of  West  Point. — Kosciusko. — The  British  Forayers. — The  Queen's  Rangers.— Hay  and  Corn. — Sir  Henry 
Clinton  in  Command  at  Philadelphia. — He  proposes  to  retire. — Lafayette  set  to  watch  the  British. — He  is  caught  in  a 
Critical  Position. — A  Skilful  Manoeuvre  and  Fortunate  Escape. — The  Enemy  return  to  Philadelphia. — A  Successful 
Raid  by  the  British  over  the  Delaware. 


1778, 


FEW  occurrences,  of  a  strictly 
military  character,  took  place  while 
the  two  armies  were  in  winter-quarters. 
There  were, however, occasional  skirmish 
es  between  parties  sent  out  to  forage. 
Captain  Henry  Lee,  as  usual,  did  good 
service  with  his  light-horse,  and  cheered 
the  heart  of  Washington  (who  was  so 
much  attached  to  him)  by  his  frequent 
feats  of  gallantry.  While  stationed  with 
his  troop  of  cavalry  as  an  advanced  guard 
at  Derby,  Lee  was  attacked  by  a  party 
of  the  enemy's  dragoons,  nearly  two  hun 
dred  in  number,  who  endeavored  to  sur 
prise  him.  About  daybreak  they  made 
their  appearance.  Lee  was  on  the  alert, 
and  manned  the  doors  and  windows  of 
the  large  stone-house  where  he  was  quar 
tered.  The  British  dragoons,  trusting  to 
their  vast  superiority  in  numbers,  attempt 
ed  to  force  their  way  into  the  building. 
The  contest  became  very  warm,  but  the 


spirit  of  Lee's  men  baffled  the  enemy, 
and  they  were  driven  off  from  the  house. 
They  made  an  attempt  to  carry  off  the 
horses,  but  they  were  also  forced  from 
the  stables,  without  being  able  to  take  a 
single  animal.  The  British  had  one  com 
missioned  officer,  a  sergeant,  and  three 
soldiers  wounded,  and  three  privates  ta 
ken  prisoners.  The  Americans  lost  four 
privates,  who  belonged  to  the  patrol- 
guard,  and  who,  being  stationed  outside 
of  the  building,  were  overpowered  while 
struggling  manfully  against  the  whole 
troop  of  dragoons.  A  sergeant  was  also 
taken  prisoner,  and  a  lieutenant  and  two 
soldiers  wounded. 

A  small  force  had  been  stationed  by 
Washington  during  the  winter  at  Tren 
ton,  to  keep  in  check  the  foraging-parties 
of  the  enemy.  While  Wayne  and  Count 
Pulaski  were  in  command  of  their  respect- 
j  ive  troops  in  this  quarter,  three  thousand 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         BARRY'S  EXPLOIT.— PLAN  TO  CAPTURE  CLINTON. 


623 


British  crossed  the  Delaware  and  attempt 
ed  to  surround  them.  The  Americans, 
however,  succeeded  in  escaping,  and  har 
assed  the  enemy  severely  on  their  return 
across  the  ferry.  Pulaski  behaved  with 
great  daring  on  the  occasion,  and  during 
a  smart  skirmish  had  his  horse  wounded. 
After  the  British  returned  to  their  camp 
in  the  city,  General  Wayne  crossed  the 
Delaware,  laid  waste  the  forage  in  Phila 
delphia  and  Bucks  counties,  and  retired 
over  the  river,  driving  before  him  the 
horses  and  cattle. 

On  the  water,  too,  Captain  Barry,  of 
the  navy,  had  by  his  gallantry  won  a 
small  triumph.  Having  manned  four 
boats  at  Burlington,  in  New  Jersey,  he 
rowed  down  the  Delaware  with  muffled 
oars,  and  took  two  British  transports  and 
an  armed  schooner  by  surprise.  They 
were  from  Rhode  Island,  and  bound  to 
Philadelphia.  The  transports  were  laden 
with  forage,  and  the  schooner  was  well 
mounted  with  four- pound  cannon  and 
howitzers.  The  exploit  was  gallantly  ex 
ecuted,  as  the  river  was  in  full  possession 
of  the  enemy's  ships.  Barry,  in  fact,  had 
no  sooner  seized  his  prizes,  than  he  was 
obliged  to  burn  one,  to  prevent  its  being 
retaken  ;  and  "  1  fear  the  other,"  he  wrote 
to  Washington,  "  will  share  the  same  fate 
after  discharging  her;  but  I  am  deter 
mined  to  hold  the  schooner  at  all  events." 

There  was  another  affair  which  would 
probably  have  been  successful,  had  it  not 
been  concluded  that  "  the  play  was  not 
worth  the  candle."  While  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  was  in  command  in  New  York,  he 
occupied  the  house  of  Captain  Kennedy, 
of  the  British  navy,  near  the  "  Battery." 


General  Washington  had  learned  the  ex 
act  position  of  all  the  approaches  to  the 
dwelling,  and  even  of  the  bedchamber  of 
Sir  Henry  ;  and  it  was  proposed  to  carry 
him  off  Eight  or  ten  light  whale-boats, 
manned  by  a  hundred  and  fifty  Marble- 
head  seamen  (dressed  in  red,  that  they 
might  pass  for  British  soldiers),  were  to 
move  down  the  Hudson  with  muffled  oars 
from  the  Highlands  to  New  York,  where 
the  men  were  to  land  and  seize  the  Brit 
ish  general.  Everything  was  in  readiness 
for  carrying  out  the  enterprise,  which 
gave  every  promise  of  success,  when  Colo 
nel  Hamilton  took  occasion  to  ask  Wash 
ington,  "  Have  you  examined  the  conse 
quences  of  it?" — "In  what  respect?"  re 
plied  the  general.  "  Why,  it  has  occurred 
to  me,"  rejoined  Hamilton,  "  that  we  shall 
rather  lose  than  gain  by  removing  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  from  the  command  of  the 
British  army,  because  we  perfectly  un 
derstand  his  character;  and,  by  taking 
him  ofi^  we  only  make  way  for  some  oth 
er,  perhaps  an  abler  officer,  whose  char 
acter  and  disposition  we  may  have  to 
learn."  The  good  sense  of  this  remark 
was  immediately  acknowledged  by  Wash 
ington,  and  the  scheme  abandoned. 

The  importance  of  holding  the  High 
lands  of  the  Hudson  was  never  disregard 
ed  ;  and,  after  the  fall  of  Forts  Clinton 
and  Montgomery,  it  was  determined  to 
select  some  other  position,  and  strongly 
fortify  it.  General  Putnam's  attention 
was  directed  to  this  important  matter, 
and  he,  together  with  the  Clintons  of  New 
York,  carefully  reconnoitred  the  banks  of 
the  river,  with  the  view  of  selecting  a 
proper  site  for  a  fort.  West  Point  was 


024 

deemed  most  eligible  by  them,  as  well  as 
by  a  committee  of  the  legislature  of  New 
York;  although  Radio  re,  the  French  en 
gineer,  did  not  approve  of  the  site.  There 
was  some  delay  in  constructing  the  works 
in  consequence  of  the  absence  of  General 
Putnam  from  his  command  on  the  Hud 
son.  Brigadier-General  Parsons,  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  who  succeeded  him  tempora 
rily,  not  feeling  authorized  to  act,  noth 
ing  was  done  until  the  arrival  of 
0« 

General  M'Dougall,  who  assumed 

the  command.  As  Radiere  had  objected 
to  the  site  of  West  Point,  which  it  was 
now  determined  to  fortify,  Kosciusko  was 
chosen  in  his  place  ;  and  the  works  were 
begun,  and  pushed  on  with  great  vigor. 
The  chief  redoubt,  constructed  of  logs 
and  embankments  of  earth,  was  finished 
before  the  month  of  May.  It  was  large, 
and  well  placed  upon  a  cliff  rising  nearly 
two  hundred  feet  above  the  water.  Fort 
Clinton  was  the  name  given  to  it,  in  hon 
or  of  the  governor  of  New  York.  There 
were  other  redoubts  planned  and  finally 
erected  upon  the  eminences  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  while  connected  with  the  works 
were  barracks  and  quarters  for  nearly  six 
hundred  men.  There  was  also  a  heavy 
chain  stretched  across  the  river,  to  pre 
vent  the  passage  of  vessels. 

Although  Sir  William  Howe  was  inac 
tive  with  the  main  body  of  the  British 
army  at  Philadelphia,  some  of  his  fora- 
ging-parties  showed  great  enterprise  and 
alacrity.  Colonel  Mawhood  and  Major 
Simcoe,  with  the  corps  of  America  loyal 
ists  called  the  "  Queen's  Rangers,"  made 
themselves  memorable  by  their  success 
ful  activity  at  Salem  and  at  Quintian  and 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


May  18, 


Hancock's  bridges.  "  They  generally  suc 
ceeded  in  their  petty  objects,"  says  one 
of  their  own  historians.  "  The  fighting 
was  chiefly  for  hay  and  corn,  clothes  and 
blankets." 

As  it  was  rumored  that  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  (who  had  taken  command  of  the  Brit 
ish  army  on  the  resignation  of  Sir  Wil 
liam  Howe)  was  about  to  evacuate  Phila 
delphia,  the  young  marquis  Lafayette  was 
detached  with  twenty-four  hundred  of  the 
choicest  of  the  American  troops  and  five 
fieldpieces, "  to  move,"  as  Washington  said, 
"  between  the  Delaware  and  the  Sell  ivy  1- 
kill,  for  restraining  the  enemy's  parties 
and  procuring  intelligence,  and  to  act  as 
circumstances  may  require." 

Lafayette  accord  ingty  marched  from 
headquarters,  and  took  post  at 
Barren  hill,  on  the  east  side  of 
the  Schuj'lkill  river,  about  half  way  be 
tween  Philadelphia  and  Valley  Forge. 
Here  his  troops  were  encamped  on  com 
manding  ground,  with  the  artillery  in 
front,  the  Schuylkill  and  rocky  precipices 
on  the  right  flank,  and  wooden  and  some 
strongly-built  stone  houses  on  the  left. 
In  advance  of  the  left  wing  was  posted 
Captain  M'Lane  with  his  company,  and 
about  fifty  Indians.  On  the  roads  lead 
ing  to  Philadelphia,  videttes  and  pickets 
were  stationed ;  and  six  hundred  Penn 
sylvania  militia  were  ordered  to  watch 
those  which  led  to  Whitemarsh.  At  a 
short  distance  from  the  left  of  the  en 
campment  was  a  church,  where  two  roads 
joined,  both  of  which  led  to  Valley  Forge, 
one  by  Matson's  ford  and  the  other  by 
Swedes'  ford,  leading  across  the  Schuyl 
kill. 


RKVOLUTIONARY.] 


SKILFUL  RETREAT  OF  LAFAYETTE. 


May  20. 


Early  on  the  second  morning 

•/ 

after  encamping,  while  Lafay 
ette  was  conversing  with  a  young  girl, 
who  was  about  setting  out  for  Philadel 
phia,  to  collect  information, under  the  pre 
text  of  visiting  her  relatives,  intelligence 
was  brought  to  him  that  some  cavalry, 
dressed  in  red,  had  been  seen  at  White- 
marsh.  The  marquis  was  expecting  some 
American  dragoons;  and  at  first  he  in 
ferred  that,  as  they  were  to  come  in  that 
direction,  those  reported  to  have  been 
seen  were  his  own  men.  To  make  sure, 
however,  he  sent  out  an  officer  to  recon 
noitre,  who  soon  returned  with  the  alarm 
ing  intelligence  that  one  column  of  the 
enemy  was  in  full  march  from  White- 
marsh  to  Swedes'  ford,  and  that  their 
front  had  already  gained  the  road  which 
led  from  Barren  hill  to  Valley  Forge ; 
while  another  column  was  approaching 
by  the  Philadelphia  road.  The  Pennsyl 
vania  militia,  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch 
at  Whitemarsh,  had  shifted  their  position 
without  orders,  and  thus  exposed  Lafay 
ette  to  a  surprise. 

The  young  marquis  now  found  himself 
in  a  critical  position  ;  but,  without  losing 
for  a  moment  his  presence  of  mind,  he 
calmly  yet  rapidly  set  about  extricating 
himself.  He  first  changed  the  front  of 
his  troops,  and,  having  so  disposed  them 
as  to  bring  them  under  the  cover  of  the 
woods  and  stone-houses,  in  case  of  a  sud 
den  attack  from  the  approaching  enemy, 
he  then  strove  to  seek  out  a  way  of  re 
treat.  The  direct  road  to  Valley  Forge, 
by  Swedes'  ford,  was  in  possession  of  a 
large  force  of  the  British.  The  only  route 
left  was  the  somewhat  circuitous  one  by 
79 


Matson's  ford.  This  was  his  only  chance 
of  escape,  and  this  he  availed  himself  of. 
He  first  sent  off  the  advanced  guard,  un 
der  the  command  of  General  Poor,  and 
followed  himself  with  the  rear. 

To  conceal  his  intention,  however,  from 
the  enemy,  who,  as  the  road  to  Matson's 
ford  was  hidden  by  an  intervening  hill 
covered  with  trees,  could  not  see  the  re 
treating  Americans,  Lafayette  now  and 
then  despatched  small  parties  through  the 
woods  to  make  a  demonstration,  as  if  they 
were  heads  of  columns  inarching  to  an 
attack.  The  enemy  were  completely  de 
ceived.  General  Grant,  w7ho  commanded 
the  detachment  of  British  advancing  in 
that  direction,  halted  and  prepared  for 
action.  This  gave  the  young  marquis  an 
opportunity  of  accomplishing  his  purpose; 
and  he  succeeded  in  throwing  his  main 
body  across  the  Schuylkill  at  Matson's 
ford,  without  the  least  interruption,  and 
posting  it  on  some  stony  ground  on  the 
opposite  bank.  The  artillery  naturally 
lagged  behind,  and,  before  it  could  pass 
the  river,  some  skirmishing  occurred  with 
the  enemy,  who  came  up,  undeceived,  at 
the  last  moment.  The  Americans  lost 
nine  killed  and  taken  prisoners,  and  the 
British  two  or  three  in  all. 

General  Grant,  finding  himself  outma 
noeuvred,  pushed  on  toward  Swedes' ford, 
where  he  joined  the  other  British  detach 
ment,  which  Sir  Henry  Clinton  himself 
commanded.  They  reached  the  river, 
and  took  a  survey  of  the  marquis  and  his 
troops  on  the  other  side;  but,  finding 
them  too  securely  posted  to  be  dislodged, 
they  turned  and  marched  back  to  Phila 
delphia. 


626 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


When  Washington  heard  the  firing,  he 
was  in  great  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the 

o  •/  J 

marquis.  He  and  his  officers  ascended 
some  rising  ground  beyond  the  camp  at 
Valley  Forge,  and  with  their  field-glasses 
watched  the  movements  of  the  troops 
with  the  deepest  solicitude,  which  was  not 
relieved  until  Lafayette  arrived  in  camp, 
bringing  the  report  and  proof  of  his  clev 
erly-managed  escape  from  the  enemy. 

The  British  were  more  successful  in  a 
raid  which  they  made  upon  the  water. 
A  party  ascended  the  Delaware  in  flat- 
bottomed  boats,  and  set  fire  to  the  small 


American  vessels  which  had  sought  ref- 

O 

uge  in  the  shallow  part  of  the  river  above. 
and  destroyed  the  storehouses  at  Borden- 
town,  on  the  New- Jersey  side. 

There  was  little  else  accomplished,  wor 
thy  of  record,  until  the  beginning  of  sum 
mer.  There  were,  however,  other  events 
occurring  in  the  meantime,  which  were 
of  more  importance  in  their  effect  upon 
the  cause  of  American  independence  than 
any  of  the  inglorious  feats  of  arms  that 
we  have  had  occasion  to  narrate  in  this 
chapter.  To  these  matters  let  us  now 
turn  our  attention. 


CHAPTER    LXIX. 

Good  News  at  Valley  Forge. — Treaty  between  France  and  the  United  States. — Celebration. — Brilliant  Appearance  of  tne 
American  Army.— -Public  Dinner. — Huzzas! — Simeon  Deane. — His  Arrival  at  Yorktown. — French  Diplomacy. — 
Lord  North's  "  Conciliatory  Bills." — British  Commissioners. — Free  Circulation  of  the  Bills. — Counter-Statements. — 
Warm  Reception  of  the  Bills  in  Rhode  Island.— Arrival  of  the  Commissioners. — The  "  Dandy  Carlisle." — His  Asso 
ciates. — Secretary  Ferguson. — Departure  of  Sir  William  Howe. — Evacuation  of  Philadelphia. — Discouragement  of 
the  Inhabitants. — The  Commissioners  refused  a  Passport. — British  Address  to  Congress. — No  Negotiation  without 
Independence. — Intrigue. — Attempt  at  Corruption. — Memorable  Reply  of  Reed. — Justification  of  Johnstone. — Appeal 
to  the  People. — Lafuyetta challenges  Lord  Carlisle. — A  Sensible  Answer. 


1778, 


WEDNESDAY,  May  7th,  was  a  day 
of  such  exulting  joy  in  the  camp  at 
Valley  Forge  as  the  most  sanguine,  du 
ring  that  winter  of  privation  and  suffer 
ing  which  had  just  passed,  never  ventured 
to  hope  for.  "  Our  independence  is  un 
doubtedly  secured  —  our  country  must 
be  free  !"  was  now  the  feeling  which  glad 
dened  the  hearts  of  even  the  most  de 
sponding  patriots,  on  learning  that  a  trea 
ty  had  been  signed  between  France  and 
the  United  States.  It  was  proper  that 
such  an  ocoasion  should  be  marked  by 


every  observance  and  ceremonial  which 
could  fix  it  in  the  memories  of  all.  Ac 
cordingly,  Washington  determined  to  cel 
ebrate  the  auspicious  day. 

With  that  reverence  for  religion  which 
was  a  strong  characteristic  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  in  his  public  as  well  as 
private  conduct,  the  first  part  of  the  day 
set  apart  for  the  celebration  of  the  occa 
sion  was  devoted  to  a  grateful  acknowl 
edgment  of  the  Divine  goodness,  "  it  hav 
ing  pleased  the  Almighty  Ruler  of  the 
universe  to  defend  the  cause  of  the  Uni- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         REJOICINGS  AT  THE  TREATY  WITH  FRANCE. 


627 


ted  American  states,  and  finally,"  in  the 
words  of  Washington's  order  for  the  day, 
"  to  raise  us  up  a  powerful  friend  among 
the  princes  of  the  earth,  to  establish  our 
liberty  and  independence  upon  a  lasting 
foundation."  The  brigades  were  all  as 
sembled  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
May  7,  .  . 

morning ;   and  the   intelligence 

of  the  treaty  having  been  communicated 

j  o 

to  them  by  the  chaplains,  prayer,  thanks 
giving,  and  a  "  discourse  suitable  to  the 
occasion,"  followed. 

At  half-past  ten  o'clock,  a  cannon  was 
fired,  as  a  signal  for  the  men  to  be  under 
arms.  The  dress  and  accoutrements  hav 
ing  been  inspected,  the  battalions  formed, 
and,  the  order  to  load  and  ground  arms 
given,  a  second  cannon  was  fired  as  a  sig 
nal  to  march.  The  whole  army  then  pa 
raded.  A  discharge  of  thirteen  cannon 
now  took  place,  followed  by  a  fcu-de-joie 
of  musketry  running  along  each  line.  A 
signal  having  been  given,  the  entire  ar 
my  burst  forth,  shouting,  "Long  live  the 
king  of  France  /"  A  second  discharge  of 
thirteen  cannon,  and  a  feu-de-joie  of  mus 
ketry,  followed.  Then  another  shout — 
"Lone/  lice  the  friendly  European  powers  I" 
Again,  a  third  discharge  of  artillery  and 
musketry,  closing  with  a  loud  huzza  for 
<•  The  American  Slates  /" 

The  army  made  a  most  brilliant  appear 
ance  on  parade,  and  entered  with  great 
spirit  into  the  celebration.  In  the  after 
noon,  Washington  dined  in  public,  with 
all  the  oflicers  of  the  army,  and  attended 
by  a  band  of  music.  "  I  never  was  pres 
ent,"  wrote  one  of  the  American  oflicers, 
''  where  there  was  such  unfeigned  and 
perfect  joy  as  was  discovered  in  every 


April  13. 


countenance.  The  entertainment  was 
concluded  with  a  number  of  patriotic 
toasts,  attended  with  huzzas.  When  the 
general  took  his  leave,  there  was  a  uni 
versal  clap,  with  loud  huzzas,  which  con 
tinued  till  he  had  proceeded  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  during  which  time  there  were  a 
thousand  hats  tossed  in  the  air.  His  ex 
cellency  turned  round  with  his  retinue, 
and  huzzaed  several  times." 

The  treaties  of  commerce  and  alliance 
between  France  and  the  United  States 
were  signed  as  early  as  the  6th  of  Feb 
ruary.  They  were  brought  to  the  Uni 
ted  States  by  Simeon  Deane,  the  brother 
of  Silas  Deane,  one  of  the  American  com 
missioners  in  Paris.  He  arrived  at  Fal- 
mouth  (now  Portland), in  Maine, 
on  board  the  French  frigate  Sen 
sible,  of  thirty-six  guns,  which  Louis  XVI. 
had  expressly  ordered  to  convey  him. 
Deane  did  not  present  himself  to  Con 
gress,  at  Yorktown,  until  the  2d  of  May  ; 
and  five  days  more  passed  before  the  im 
portant  intelligence  which  he  bore  was 
received  at  the  camp  at  Valley  Forge. 

The  French  government  strove  to  con 
ceal  from  England  the  fact  of  the  signing 
of  the  treaty  with  the  United  States  un 
til  it  had  made  some  progress  in  carrying 
out  its  objects.  The  British  cabinet,  how 
ever,  though  not  directly  informed,  had 
received  such  intelligence  as  to  induce 
its  members  to  believe  it,  and  act  accord 
ingly.  Lord  North,  the  prime  minister,  in 
order  to  counteract  the  French  alliance, 
immediately  introduced  his  "  conciliatory 
bills,"  which  were  rapidly  passed  through 
Parliament.  Tlie.se  conceded  more  than 
was  ever  asked  by  America  as  a  colony, 


028 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u. 


and  would  have  been  thought  generous 
in  1774.  In  1778,  all  concessions  offered 
by  Great  Britain  to  the  United  States 
were  considered  as  gratuitous  insults  to 
an  independent  nation,  and  were  thrown 
back  with  indignant  contempt.  British 
ministers,  however,  were  still  hopeful ; 
and,  having  secured  the  passa-ge  of  the 
conciliatory  bills,  they  sent  copies  of  them 
to  be  industriously  circulated  in  America, 
and  appointed  three  commissioners  to  car 
ry  out  their  purpose. 

There  was  some  anxiety  felt  even  in 
the  United  States  about  the  possible  ef 
fect  of  these  measures  of  the  English  gov 
ernment.  Lafayette  declared  he  feared 
the  arrival  of  the  commissioners  more 
than  that  of  ten  thousand  men.  Wash 
ington  himself  was  fearful  that  Congress 

O  O 

might  not  be  equal  to  the  emergency. 
"  This  more  than  ever,"  said  he,  "  is  the 
time  for  Congress  to  be  filled  with  the 
first  characters  from  every  state,  instead 
of  having  a  thin  assembly,  and  many  states 
totally  unrepresented,  as  is  the  case  at 
present." 

The  British  agents  spared  no  exertions 
in  distributing  copies  of  the  conciliatory 
bills ;  and  Tryon,  the  tory  governor  of 
New  York,  was,  as  usual,  among  the  most 
prominent  of  them,  lie  sent  Washing 
ton  a  supply,  impertinently  asking  him 
to  circulate  them  among  his  officers  and 
men.  "  They  were  suffered,"  wrote  the 
American  general,  in  answer,  "  to  have  a 
free  currency  among  the  officers  and  men 
under  my  command,  in  whose  fidelity  to 
the  United  States  I  have  the  most  perfect 
confidence."  lie  also  returned  Tryon  a 
Roland  for  his  Oliver,  in  the  shape  of  sev 


eral  printed  copies  of  a  resolution  of  Con 
gress,  offering  pardon  io  all  who  had  taken 
up  arms  against  the  United  States,  with  the 
request  that  he  would  be  instrumental  in 
communicating  its  contents,  as  far  as  it 
might  be  in  his  power,  to  the  persons  who 
were  intended  to  be  the  objects  of  its  op 
erations.  -'The  benevolent  purpose  it  is 
intended  to  answer,"  added  Washington, 

'  O  7 

sarcastically,  "  will,  I  persuade  myself,  suf 
ficiently  recommend  it  to  your  candor." 

The  popular  feeling  in  reference  to  the 
"  conciliatory  bills"  was  in  character  with 
that  so  emphatically  expressed  by  the  peo 
ple  in  Rhode  Island,  who  seized  and  burnt 
them  under  the  gallows.  Congress,  as 
well  as  the  nation,  was  proof  against  the 
British  bills.  That  body  unanimously  re 
solved  "that  these  United  States  can  not 
with  propriety  hold  any  conference  or 
treaty  with  any  commissioners  on  the 
part  of  Great  Britain,  unless  they  shall,  as 
a  preliminary  thereto,  either  withdraw 
their  fleets  and  armies,  or  else  in  positive 
and  express  terms  acknowledge  the  inde 
pendence  of  the  said  states."  This  did 
not  promise  very  favorably  for  the  com 
ing  commissioners. 

In  accordance  with  the  provisions  of 
the  '"conciliatory  bills," three  commission 
ers  were  duly  appointed,  who  arrived  at 
Philadelphia  in  the  early  part  of 
the  summer.  They  were  all  no 
table  men,  though  perhaps  not  the  best 
adapted  for  such  an  embassy.  The  earl 
of  Carlisle  was  well  known  as  an  aristo 
cratic  dandy  —  or  maccaroni,  as  he  would 
have  been  called  in  those  days.  No  one 
had  fluttered  his  ruffles  more  gayly  on 
the  matt  in  St.  James's  park.  He  was  fresh 


June  6. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  BRITISH  COMMISSIONERS  IN  PHILADEPHIA. 


629 


from  exchanging  scandal  with  Walpole  at 
"Arthur's,"  and  from  playing  hazard  at 
"  Brooke's,"  where  his  companions  may 
have  been  statesmen,  but  he  knew  them 
only  in  their  pleasures,  and  not  in  their 
business.  His  intimate  friend  was  George 
Selwyn,  the  man  of  fashion,  of  whom  he 
was  a  correspondent ;  and  not  Charles 
James  Fox,  the  statesman  and  orator,  who 
condemned  his  appointment — declaring 
that  Governor  Johnstone  was  the  only 
member  of  the  commission  "  who  could 
have  the  ear  of  the  people  in  America."* 

Johnstone,  who  had  been  governor  of 
Florida,  was  prominent  in  Parliament  as 
an  advocate  for  the  American  cause,  and 
was  believed  to  be  a  firm  friend  of  the 
colonies.  He,  however,  like  the  earl  of 
Chatham  and  others,  who  boldly  stood 
forward,  at  the  beginning  of  the  struggle, 
for  political  concessions  to  the  Americans 
as  colonists,  was  strenuously  opposed  to 
their  acknowledgment  as  an  independent 
nation.  The  third  commissioner  was  Wil 
liam  Eden,  afterward  Lord  Auckland,  the 
brother  of  the  colonial  governor  of  Ma 
ryland. 

The  secretary  of  the  commission  was 
Doctor  Adam  Ferguson,  who  was  at  that 
time  about  fifty-five  years  of  age,  and, 
by  his  "Essay  on  ike  History  of  Civil  Socie 
ty"  had  obtained  a  high  rank,  among  the 
Humes  and  Smiths  of  his  native  Scotland, 
as  a  philosophical  writer.  He  subsequent 
ly  became  still  more  famous  by  his  pro 
found  and  learned  "  History  of  the  Progress 

*  "  Lord  Carlisle  was  a  voting  man  of  pleasure  and  fash 
ion  ;  fond  of  dress  and  gaming,  by  which  he  had  greatly  hurt 
his  fortune;  was  totally  unacquainted  with  business;  and, 
though  not  void  of  ambition,  had  but  moderate  parts  and 
less  application."  —  HORACE  WALPOLK. 


and  the  Termination  of  the  Roman  Republic." 
Ferguson  had  a  most  gallant  spirit  in  a 
martial  frame  of  body,  and  was  as  well 
fitted  to  fight  battles  as  to  describe  them.* 

When  the  commissioners  reached  Phil 
adelphia,  the  easy,  indulgent  Sir  William 
Howe  had  been  gone  a  fortnight.  His 
departure  was  deeply  regretted,  for  he 
was  greatly  beloved  by  both  his  officers 
and  men  ;  having  been,  as  is  sarcastically 
observed  by  an  English  writer,  "on  all 
occasions  extremely  careful  of  their  lives"  and 
attentive  to  their  comforts.  The  parting 
was  tender  and  affecting.  The  bravest 
of  the  band  are  said  to  have  shed  tears 
when  the  general  stepped  into  his  barge. 
Admiral  Lord  Howe  would  have  accom 
panied  his  brother  home  to  England,  but 
he  had  been  urged  to  stay  by  the  British 
ministers,  who  anticipated  that  a,  French 
war,  which  was  imminent,  would  soon  fur 
nish  an  occasion  for  the  active  services 
of  him  and  his  fleet.  Although  their 
names  were  included  in  the  commission, 
the  Howes  resolved  not  to  act  under  the 
leadership  of  Lord  Carlisle,  from  some 
feeling  of  pique  or  jealousy  toward  him, 
or  from  discontent  with  the  conduct  of 
the  ministers. 

The  commissioners  were  received  by 
the  inhabitants  of  Philadelphia  with  ev 
ery  manifestation  of  joy ;  and 
they  would  have  been  sanguine 
of  the  success  of  their  embassy,  had  they 
not  found,  much  to  their  surprise  and  vex 
ation,  that  orders  had  been  sent  out  to 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  unknown  to  them,  to 
evacuate  the  city.  Everything  was  in 
great  confusion  as  the  British  army  was 

*  Pictorial  History  of  En<rland. 


June  6. 


630 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[TAUT  n. 


about  leaving;  and  thousands  of  Philadel 
phia  tories  were  crowding  on  board  the 
transport-ships,  as  they  did  not  care  to 
trust  their  loyalty  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  pat-riots.  The  inhabitants,  loath 
to  leave  their  homes,  clung  to  the  com 
missioners  with  earnest  appeals  for  pro 
tection.  "  Why  were  you  so  long  in  com 
ing?  Do  not  abandon  us!"  they  cried, 
and  entreated  that  the  army  should  be 
retained  and  sent  against  Washington. 
They  were  also  liberal  of  promises,  and 
declared  that  twenty  thousand  men  were 
ready  to  arm  as  soon  as  they  were  sup 
plied  with  the  means  and  the  British  gen 
eral  should  take  the  field.  Johnstone  was 
inclined  to  believe  them,  and  said  after 
ward  in  Parliament,  "I  am  persuaded,  if 
we  had  been  at  liberty  to  have  acted  in 
the  field,  our  most  sanguine  expectations 
would  have  been  fulfilled."  But  General 
Howe  could  have  told  them  that  the 
American  loyalists  were  more  liberal  in 
promise  than  in  execution.  The  commis 
sioners,  however,  had  no  power  to  alter 
the  destination  of  the  army,  as  Sir  Henry 
Clinton's  orders  to  evacuate  Philadelphia 
were  peremptory. 

The  first  act  of  the  commissioners  was 
to  charge  their  secretary  with  despatches 
for  Congress;  and  Sir  Henry  Clinton  ad 
dressed  a  letter  to  Washington,  asking 
for  Ferguson  a  passport  to  York  town, 
where  that  body  was  in  session.  English 
writers  have  declared  that  this  request 
was  harshly  refused.  Washington's  let 
ter  on  the  occasion  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
disproves  the  charge.  Nothing  can  be 
more  courteous  than  the  terms  in  which 
it  is  couched  :  — 


"  HEADQUARTERS,  Jane  9,  1778. 

"SiK:  At  nine  o'clock  this  evening  I 
had  the  honor  to  receive  your  excellen 
cy's  letter  of  this  date.  I  do  not  conceive 
myself  at  liberty  to  grant  the  passport 
you  request  for  Doctor  Ferguson,  without 
being  previously  instructed  by  Congress 
on  the  subject.  I  shall  despatch  a  copy 
of  your  letter  to  them,  and  will  take  the 
earliest  opportunity  of  communicating 
their  determination. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  &c., 

"  GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

Without  waiting  for  the  decision  of 
Congress  upon  the  application  of  Sir  Hen 
ry  Clinton  for  a  passport  for  Ferguson, 
the  commissioners  forwarded  their  de 
spatches.  Among  these  was  an  '"address" 
to  Congress,  which  the  president  was  de 
sired  to  read  immediately.  He  began  at 
once,  and  continued  reading  till  he  came 
to  a  passage  containing  strong  expres 
sions  of  disrespect  to  the  king  of  France, 
when  he  was  interrupted  ;  and  the  house, 
directing  him  to  seal  up  the  papers,  ad 
journed.  At  a  subsequent  session,  the 
subject  was  resumed  ;  when  Congress  or 
dered  a  reply  to  be  sent  to  the  commis 
sioners,  in  which  their  previous  resolution 
was  reiterated,  not  to  enter  into  negotia 
tions  with  Great  Britain  for  peace  with 
out  an  explicit  acknowledgment  of  (lie 
independence  of  the  United  States,  or  a 
withdrawal  ef  British  ileets  and  armies. 

The  commissioners,  now"  giving  up  all 
hope  of  formal  negotiation,  made  a  vain 
effort  to  effect  by  intrigue  and  bribery 
what  they  had  i'ailed  to  obtain  by  honest 
means.  Governor  Johnstone  wrote  a  let 
ter  to  Robert  Morris,  the  financier,  in 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 

•which  he  said:  '•  I  believe  the  men  who 
have  conducted  the  affairs  of  America  in 
capable  of  being  influenced  by  improper 
motives.  But  in  all  such  transactions 
there  is  a  risk,  and  I  think  that  whoever 
ventures  should  be  secured  at  the  same 
time;  that  honor  and  emolument  should 
naturally  follow  the  fortunes  of  those  who 
have  steered  the  vessel  in  the  storm  and 
brought  her  safely  into  port.  I  think 
Washington  arid  the  president  [of  Con 
gress]  have  a  right  to  every  favor  that 
grateful  nations  can  bestow,  if  they  could 
once  more  unite  our  interests,  and  spare 
the  miseries  and  devastations  of  war.  I 
wish  above  all  things  to  see  you,  and  hope 
you  will  so  contrive  it." 

Morris  was  an  acquaintance  which 
Johnstone  had  formed  while  living  in 
America  as  governor  of  West  Florida- 
Henry  Laurens,  of  South  Carolina,  who 
was  now  president  of  Congress,  was  an 
other  old  friend,  to  whom  a  similar  epis 
tle  was  addressed.  A  correspondence  also 
took  place  with  General  Joseph  Reed,  but 
a  still  bolder  attempt  was  made  upon  his 
integrity,  as  he  stilted  in  Congress,  of 
which  he  was  a  member.  A  "  married 
lady  of  character,  having  connections  with 
the  British  army,"  intimated  to  Reed  that 
ten  thousand  pounds  in  money,  and  any 
office  in  the  colonies  which  the  king  could 
bestow,  awaited  his  exertions  toward  the 
reconciliation  of  the  colonies  with  the 
mother-country.  Reed's  memorable  an 
swer  was:  "I  am  not  worth  purchasing; 
but,  such  as  I  a,m,  the  king  of  Great  Brit 
ain  is  not  rich  enough  to  do  it." 

It  is  but  just  to  Johnstone  to  state  that 
Adam  Ferguson,  who  wras  the  soul  of 


BRITISH  ATTEMPTS  AT  BRIBERY. 


631 


honor  and  truth,  declared  that  Johnstone 
denied  (and  confirmed  the  assertion  by 
proofs  and  documents)  that  the  bribe 
proffered  to  Reed  was  authorized  by  him. 
He  could  not,  however,  deny  the  letters 
to  Laurens  and  Morris,  although  his  as 
sociates  in  the  commission  (Lord  Carlisle 
and  Eden)  disclaimed  all  responsibility 
for  or  even  knowledge  of  them,  until  they 
appeared  in  the  newspapers.  Congress 
had  declared  these  letters  of  Johnstone  to 
be  atrocious  attempts  upon  its  integrity, 
and  resolved  that  no  further  correspond 
ence  should  be  held  with  the  commission 
er  who  had  been  guilty  of  them. 

Finding  all  their  efforts  to  negotiate 
with  the  members  of  Congress  in  their 
private  or  public  capacity  fruitless,  the 
commissioners  appealed  to  the  people, 
and  artfully  strove  to  bring  the  prejudice 
against  the  French,  which  the  Americans 
shared  in  common  with  their  English  rel 
atives,  to  bear  in  opposition  to  the  alli 
ance  with  France.  Lafayette's  Gallic  sen 
sibility  was  greatly  wounded  by  the  at 
tacks  upon  his  native  land,  and  in  his 
youthful  ardor  he  challenged  Lord  Car 
lisle  ;  but  his  lordship  coolly  answered 
that  he  did  not  hold  himself  responsible 
to  any  but  his  king  and  country  for  his 
public  conduct,  and  refused  to  accept  the 
challenge.* 

*  "Lord  Carlisle,  before  lie  left  that  quarter  of  the  world, 
had  received  a  challenge  from  the  marquis  de  Lafayette,  a 
young  Frenchman  of  quality,  married  into  the  powerful 
family  of  Noaillcs,  and  who,  from  enthusiasm  for  liberty, 
had  resorted  to  America  seemingly  without  the  approbation 
of  his  court,  though  certainly  with  its  connivance,  as  at  his 
return  he  received  only  a  short  exile  ten  miles  from  Paris, 
and  had  been  very  active  in  the  service  of  the  Congress. 
This  young  adventurer  hud  taken  offence  at  expressions 
reproachful  to  his  country  in  the  proclamation  of  the  com 
missiuners,  and  very  absurdly  had  addressed  himself  to  Lord 


032 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


This  last  effort  of  the  British  commis 
sioners,  however,  proved  no  less  unsuc 
cessful  than  their  previous  attempts  ;  and 
being  thus  totally  balked,  they  finally 
left  the  country  —  with  a  feeling  of  con 


tempt  on  the  part  of  the  American  peo 
ple  toward  them,  and  an  ill-concealed  dis 
gust  with  themselves  for  having  engaged 
in  an  embassy  that  proved  to  be  a  fool's 
errand. 


CHAPTER    LXX. 

Evacuation  of  Philadelphia. — Secrecy  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Washington  in  the  Dark. — A  Divided  Council. — Opinion 
of  Washington. — The  Retreat  of  the  British  to  be  harassed. — Washington  crosses  the  Delaware. — General  Lee  in  Op 
position. — He  gives  up  his  Command  to  Lafayette,  and  retreats. — Sir  Henry  Clinton  changes  his  Line  of  March.-  - 
Lee  ordered  to  the  Advance. — His  March. — Washington's  Eagerness. — Lee  ordered  to  attack. — Contradictory  Orders. 
— Bewilderment. — Plans. — Lee  in  High  Spirits. — General  Wayne's  Charge. — Altercation  between  Lee  and  Lafayette. 
— Washington  summoned. — Retreat  of  Lee. — Meeting  with  Washington. — Fierce  Words. — Nothing  further  to  do.-  - 
The  Struggle  at  Monmouth. — Hot  Engagement. — Check  of  the  British. — Formation  of  the  American  Line. — The 
Enemy  beaten  back. — Fall  of  General  Monekton. — The  Day  over — Washington  sleeps  on  the  Field. 


1778, 


June  18, 


SIR  HENRY  CLINTON,  in  pursuance 
of  his  orders  from  the  British  min 
istry,  was  about  evacuating  Philadelphia ; 
but  so  adroitly  had  he  made  his  prepara 
tions,  that  even  on  the  very  day  of  his 
march,  his  destination  and  route 
were  unknown  in  the  American 
camp.  "As  yet,"  wrote  Washington,  on 
the  morning  of  that  day,  "  I  am  not  fully 
ascertained  [informed]  of  the  enemy's  des 
tination  ;  nor  is  there  wanting  a  variety 
of  opinions  as  to  the  route  they  will  pur 
sue,  whether  it  will  be  by  land  or  sea,  ad 
mitting  it  to  be  New  York." 

On  the  previous  day  a  council  of  war 
was  held,  in  which  the  question  as  to  the 
policy  of  attacking  the  British  army  on 

Carlisle  for  satisfaction.  The  latter,  in  a  very  sensible  let 
ter,  told  him  that  he  did  not  at  all  think  it  became  him  to 
answer  for  his  conduct  as  a  public  minister  to  a  private 
man,  and  that  he  thought  the  national  quarrel  would  be 
best  decided  by  Admiral  Byron  and  Comte  D'Estaing."— 
HORACE  WALPOLE. 


its  march  from  Philadelphia  (should  New 
Jersey  be  the  route)  was  submitted.  A 

*/ 

great  variety  of  opinion  was  entertained, 
but  most  of  the  officers  considered  it  too 
hazardous  to  make  a  general  attack  ;  for, 
although  the  Americans  had,  including 

O  /  i_; 

the  militia, nearly  fourteen  thousand  men, 
and  the  British  numbered  less  than  ten 
thousand,  the  latter  wrere  effective  troops. 
General  Lee  was  opposed  to  doing  any 
thing  beyond  skirmishing  with  the  out- 
guards,  and  harassing  the  enemy  as  cir 
cumstances  would  permit.  His  influence 
in  the  council  was  great,  and  he  carried 
with  him  many  of  the  other  officers.  The 
decision  of  the  majority  was  therefore  in 
accordance  with  Lee's  views. 

After  the  council  broke  up,  however, 
Generals  Greene,  Lafayette,  and  Wayne, 
wrote  to  Washington,  explaining  more 
fully  their  opinions,  which  differed  from 
those  of  the  majority.  They  did  not  do- 


KKVOLUTIONATIY.]         LEE  AND  LAFAYETTE.— THE  BRITISH  MOVING. 


633 


clfire  in  favor  of  pushing  the  enemy  at 
all  events  to  a  general  action,  but  they 
strongly  urged  an  attack  upon  their  rear 
with  a  large  detachment,  and  such  a  dis 
position  of  the  main  body  of  the  army  as 
to  be  ready  for  an  engagement  should  cir 
cumstances  seem  favorable.  Washington's 

o 

own  opinion  being  in  accordance  with  this 
plan,  he  determined  (if  the  British  gave 
him  an  opportunity)  to  adopt  it.  He, how 
ever,  as  soon  as  he  was  well  assured  of 
Sir  Henry  Clinton's  movement  across  the 
Delaware,  sent  out  General  Maxwell  with 
his  brigade  to  co-operate  with  the  New- 
Jersey  militia  in  obstructing  the  inarch 
of  the  British.  In  accordance  also  with 
the  decision  of  the  council,  Washington 
ordered  a  detachment  of  fifteen  hundred 
men,  under  General  Scott,  to  act  on  the 
enemy's  left  flank  and  rear,  preliminary 
to  carrying  out  the  more  general  plan  of 
attack  which  he  anticipated,  in  further 
ance  of  his  own  views,  and  those  of  Gen 
erals  Greene,  Wayne,  and  Lafayette. 

Washington  now  broke  up  his  camp  at 
Valley  Forge,  and,  crossing  the  Delaware 
at  Coryell's  ferry,  marched  with  his  main 
body  to  Cranberry.  Having  here  learned 
that  the  British  were  taking  the  route 
toward  Monmouth  courthouse,  he  deter 
mined  to  carry  out  his  plan,  and  ordered 
a  thousand  of  his  choicest  troops  under 
Brigadier-General  Wayne  to  advance  im 
mediately,  and,  having  formed  a  junction 
with  Maxwell's  brigade,  the  force  under 
Scott,  and  the  other  detachments  which 
had  already  been  sent  forward,  to  attack 
the  enemy's  rear  and  flanks. 

As  General  Lee  was  second  in  rank,  the 
whole  advanced  corps  fell  under  his  com- 
80 


mand.    Lafayette,  however,  always  eao;er 

V  «'  O 

for  an  opportunity  to  distinguish  himself, 
was  glad  to  take  advantage  of  Lee's  sup 
posed  reluctance  to  execute  a  plan  which 
he  had  so  strenuously  opposed.  Accord 
ingly,  the  young  marquis,  suggesting  to 
Washington  the  probability  of  Lee's  em 
barrassment,  offered  himself  as  a  substi 
tute.  The  commander-in-chief  answered 
that  such  an  arrangement  would  be  agree 
able  to  him,  but  that  it  was  necessary  to 
obtain  General  Lee's  consent,  La.fa.v- 

\J 

ette's  desire  met  with  no  opposition  from 
Lee,  who  immediately  resigned  the  com 
mand  to  him,  with  an  emphatic  denunci 
ation  of  the  plans  of  Washington,  which 
he  was  sure,  he  declared,  would  fail,  and 
that  he  was  therefore  glad  to  be  rid  of 
any  responsibility  in  their  execution. 

General  Lee,  on  reflection,  however, 
repented  of  the  readiness  with  which  he 
had  granted  the  request  of  Lafayette, 
and  strove  to  get  back  his  command.  He 
wrote  to  Washington,  and,  acknowledge 

o  t  /  o 

ing  that  he  had  been  rash,  asked  to  have 
his  command  restored  to  him.  But  the 
commander-in-chief  declared  that  he  could 
not  reinstate  him  without  the  consent  of 
Lafayette.  Lee  appealed  to  the  young 
marquis,  who  said  that,  as  the  command 
had  been  yielded  to  him  freely,  he  was 
very  reluctant  to  give  it  up.  Lee,  how 
ever,  becoming  urgent,  Lafayette  finally 
consented,  provided  (as  he  was  now  on 
his  march)  he  did  not  come  up  with  the 
enemy  during  that  day. 

In  the  meantime,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  on 
inarching  from  Allentown,  had  changed 
the  disposition  of  his  army,  by  placino- 
the  baggage  in  advance,  under  the  guard 


634 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


of  Knyphausen  and  his  Hessians,  and  his 
best  troops,  consisting  of  the  British  gren 
adiers,  light-infantry,  and  chasseurs  of  the 
line,  under  the  command  of  Earl  Cornwal- 
lis,  in  the  rear.  Washington,  on  discov 
ering  this,  found  it  necessary  to  strength 
en  his  advanced  corps,  and  immediately 
detached  Major- General  Lee,  with  two 
brigades,  to  form  a  junction  with  Lafay 
ette  at  English  town.  This  nt  once  set 
tled  all  difficulty  between  these  two  offi 
cers;  as  Lee,  being  the  higher  in  rank, 
on  being  ordered  to  reinforce  the  ad 
vanced  troops,  necessarily  assumed  the 
general  command.  Washington's  object, 
in  sending  Lee  with  the  reinforcement, 
was,  to  relieve  him  of  his  "  uneasiness," 
which  was  "  rather  increasing  than  aba 
ting At  the  same  time  that  I  felt  for 

General  Lee's  distress  of  mind,"  observed 
Washington,  writing  to  Lafayette,  "I  have 
had  an  eye  to  your  wishes,  and  the  deli 
cacy  of  your  situation ;  and  have  there 
fore  obtained  a  promise  from  him  that, 
when  he  gives  you  notice  of  his  approach 
and  command,  he  will  request  you  to 
prosecute  any  plan  you  may  have  already 
concerted  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  or 
otherwise  annoying  the  enemy." 

Washington,  in  the  meantime, 
having  lightened  his  march  by 
leaving  his  baggage  behind,  moved  on 
with  the  rest  of  the  troops,  and  encamped 
within  three  miles  of  Englishtown,  where 
the  advanced  corps,  now  consisting  of  five 
thousand  men,  under  the  command  of 
General  Lee,  was  posted. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  on  reaching  Allen- 
town,  found  Washington  almost  in  front; 
and,  not  wishing  to  hazard  a  battle,  he 


June  25. 


June  27. 


changed  his  original  purpose  of  marching 
his  troops  to  the  Karitan,  and  embarking 
them  at  Brunswick  or  South  Amboy  for 
New  York.  He  now  turned  to  the  right, 
and  took  the  road  toward  Monmouth,  with 
the  intention  of  proceeding  in  all  haste 
to  Sandy  Hook. 

The  British,  being  hindered  by  their 
immense  baggage  and  camp-appurtenan 
ces,  fagged  by  their  fatiguing  marches  in 
the  hot  summer  weather,  and  harassed 
by  the  skirmishing  of  the  country  militia, 
were  slow  in  their  movements. 
They  encamped  in  a  strong  po 
sition,  with  their  right  extending  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  beyond  Monmouth  court 
house,  and  their  left  along  the  road  from 
Allentown  to  the  village  of  Monmouth. 
Their  right  flank  lay  on  the  skirt  of  a 
small  wood,  while  their  left  was  secured 
by  a  very  thick  one.  There  wras  a  morass 
in  their  rear,  and  again  another,  together 
with  a  wood,  in  their  front. 

The  position  of  the  enemy  was  deemed 
too  strong  for  an  attack,  and  Washington 
awaited  the  moment  when  they  should 
begin  to  march,  to  commence  operations. 
He  accordingly  ordered  General  Lee  to 
make  his  disposition  for  the  assault  on 
the  British  rear  as  soon  as  they  should 
get  in  motion  from  their  present  ground. 
Lee  was  directed  to  keep  his  troops  con 
stantly  tying  upon  their  arms,  in  order  to 
be  in  readiness  at  the  shortest  notice  ;  for 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  only  ten  or  twelve 
miles  to  march  in  advance,  to  reach  the 
heights  of  Middletown,  where  it  would  be 
impossible  to  attempt  anything  against 
him  with  a  prospect  of  success.  The  at 
tack,  to  be  made  at  all,  must  be  made  in 


TSKVOLTJTIONAHY.J         WASHINGTON'S  ANXIETY.— LEE'S  BEWILDERMENT. 


(335 


the  interval  of  time  between  his  march 
from  his  present  strong  ground  to  the 
still  stronger  one  beyond.  The  greatest 
alertness  was  therefore  necessary,  to  seize 
upon  the  critical  moment.  Washington 
not  only  enjoined  this  upon  Lee,  but  took 
care  to  secure  it  on  the  part  of  the  troops 
under  his  immediate  command,  which  he 
kept  in  reserve  at  Cranberry,  several  miles 
distant,  and  was  prepared  to  bring  up  to 
sustain  the  advanced  corps  so  soon  as  it 
should  have  begun  its  attack  on  the  ene- 
nry's  rear. 

Washington  was  so  anxious  lest  the 
British  should  escape  him  by  decamping 
unobserved  before  the  break  of  day,  that 
at  midnight  he  sent  word  to  General  Lee 
to  order  out  a  corps  of  observation.  The 
New-Jersey  militia,  under  General  Dick 
inson  were  accordingly  sent  forward,  to 
lie  as  close  as  possible  to  the  enemy,  in 
order  to  watch  their  movements.  At  five 

o'clock  the  next  morning;,  an  ex- 
Juii6  28» 

press  from  Dickinson  came  into 

Washington's  camp,  with  the  intelligence 
that  Sir  Henry  Clinton's  front  had  begun 
to  move.  The  day  had  no  sooner  broken, 
than  General  Knyphausen  marched  with 
his  long  train  of  baggage  and  bat-horses, 
extending  ten  or  twelve  miles  along  the 
narrow  road.  It  was  about  eiiHit  o'clock 

O 

when  Sir  Henry  Clinton  followed  with  the 
rear,  composed  of  the  main  body  of  the 
army  and  the  choicest  troops,  under  the 
immediate  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis. 
As  soon  as  he  received  intelligence  of 
the  enemy's  march,  Washington  sent  one 
of  his  aids  to  General  Lee,  with  orders  to 
move  on  and  attack  them,  "  unless  there 
should  be  very  powerful  reasons  to  the 


contrary."  The  commander-in-chief  liim- 
v  self,  having  ordered  his  men  to  throw  off 
their  packs  and  blankets,  that  they  might 
march  with  the  greater  rapidity  and  com 
fort  during  that  sweltering  summer  day, 
immediately  advanced  to  the  support  of 
Lee,  to  whom  he  had  sent  due  notice  of 
his  approach. 

General  Lee,  on  receiving  Washing 
ton's  orders,  despatched  a  body  of  light- 
troops  in  advance  to  skirmish  with  the 
enemy,  while  he  moved  forward  with  the 
brigades  of  Wayne  and  Maxwell  to  sus 
tain  it.  In  the  course  of  his  march,  Lee 
received  a  variety  of  contradictory  re 
ports.  Now  one  aid-de-camp  rode  back 
with  the  intelligence  that  the  main  body 
of  the  British  was  marching  to  attack 
him ;  and,  again,  another  brought  word 
that  Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  moved  off  in 
precipitation,  and  left  only  a  covering- 
party  to  protect  his  retreat!  Lee  was 
obliged  to  manoeuvre  accordingly;  and, 
skirmishing  as  he  went,  he  advanced  and 
retired  again  and  again.  At  one  time, 
hoping  to  find  the  enemy  in  small  force, 
he  crossed  the  bridge  over  the  morass  on 
his  route,  in  order  to  attack  them  ;  at  an 
other,  fearing  that  their  main  body  was 
approaching,  he  rapidly  retired,  lest  he 
should  be  caught  in  the  dangerous  posi 
tion,  with  a  morass  in  his  rear,  and  only 
a  narrow  bridge  to  cross  it.  While  thus 
bewildered,  Lafayette  came  up  with  the 
main  body  of  Lee's  division,  which,  when 
united  with  the  advanced  troops,  formed 
a  force  (exclusive  of  Morgan's  corps  and 
the  New-Jersey  militia,,  then  out  skirmish 
ing)  of  about  four  thousand  men.  Thus 
reinforced,  Lee  pushed  forward  until  he 


03  6 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


reached  the  plains  of  Monmouth.  on  the 
edi^e  of  which,  and  within  the  cover  of  a 

o 

wood,  he  formed  his  line,  that  it  might 
be  concealed  from  the  view  of  the  Brit 
ish. 

General  Lee,  accompanied  by  Wayne, 
now  rode  out  to  reconnoitre ;  and,  from 
his  own  observations,  and  the  intelligence 
received  from  his  scouts,  he  concluded 
that  the  troops  of  the  enemy  which  he 
saw  were  only  a  covering-party,  and  that 
there  was  a  sufficient  distance  between 
them  and  their  main  body  to  allow  of  a 
chance  to  cut  them  off.  Lee  formed  his 
plans  accordingly.  lie  sent  off  Wayne, 
with  seven  hundred  men  and  two  field- 
pieces,  to  attack  them  in  the  rear,  but  not 
with  such  impetuosity  as  to  drive  them 
either  to  seek  safety  by  a  junction  with 
their  main  body  in  advance,  or  to  cause 
reinforcements  to  be  sent  to  their  aid. 
Lee  himself  proposed  to  take  them  with 
a  strong  force  in  front,  and  strove  accord 
ingly  to  carry  out  his  purpose  by  leading 
his  men  along  a  short  and  cross  route  by 
which  he  expected  to  intercept  the  en 
emy. 

Full  of  confidence  in  his  plan,  the  gen 
eral  was  riding  at  the  head  of  his  troops, 
and  hurrying  on  their  march,  when  he 
was  accosted  by  an  aid-de-camp  of  Wash 
ington,  who  rode  up  for  intelligence.  Lee 
was  in  high  spirits,  and  his  face  beamed 
with  an  expression  of  confident  success, 
while  with  a  firm  tone  of  voice  he  told 
the  aid-de-camp  to  inform  his  excellency 
that  the  rear  of  the  enemy  was  composed 
of  only  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand 
men,  and  that  they  did  not  seem  to  un 
derstand  the  roads  •  that  the  route  he  was 


on  cut  off*  two  miles  of  distance;  that  he 
expected  to  fall  in  with  them,  and  felt 
great  certainty  of  cutting  them  off;  and 
that  General  Wayne  and  Colonel  Butler 
were  amusing  them  with  a  few  loose  shot 
while  he  was  inarching  to  the  attack. 

As  Wayne  approached  and  prepared  to 
skirmish  with  the  rear  of  the  enemy,  a 
party  of  British  dragoons  were  seen  pa 
rading  as  though  they  were  about  charg 
ing  the  American  light-horsemen  in  ad 
vance,  when  General  Lee's  aid-de-camp 
rode  forward  and  suggested  to  the  officer 
in  command  of  the  latter,  to  appear  to 
await  the  attack,  and  then  at  the  last 
moment  to  retire  toward  General  Wayne 
and  allow  him  to  receive  it.  This  ma 
noeuvre  succeeded  :  the  British  dragoons 
made  the  charge,  and,  while  in  pursuit  of 
the  retreating;  American  horsemen,  came 

o 

within  the  fire  of  Wayne's  troops,  when 
they  were  suddenly  compelled  to  wheel 
round  and  gallop  back. 

General  Wayne's  men  now  pushed  on 
with  fixed  bayonets,  and  charged  the  en 
emy  with  such  spirit,  that  Lee  sent  word, 
in  order  to  check  his  impetuosity,  that  lie 
(Wayne)  was  only  to  feign  an  attack,  or 

\  i/  /  «/  o  / 

otherwise  he  would  spoil  his  game.  Colo 
nel  Oswald,  in  command  of  the  artillery, 
observing  the  impression  which  Wayne's 
charge  had  made  upon  the  British,  be 
lieved  that  they  were  about  retreating, 
and  hurried  forward  with  his  two  field- 
pieces  across  the  morass  in  front,  and, 
planting  them  on  some  high  ground  on 
the  other  side,  commenced  a  cannonade. 
Wayne  was  disappointed  by  the  check 
which  he  received  in  the  orders  of  Lee, 
but  he  obeyed  them;  although,  with  his 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          GENERAL  LEE'S  DISGRACEFUL  RETREAT. 


637 


usual  sanguineness  of  temper,  lie  believed 
that  his  obedience  had  cost  him  an  almost 
certain  victory.  He,  however,  waited  in 
the  hope  that  Lee,  by  a  vigorous  blow  in 
front,  would  retrieve  the  loss. 

General  Lee,  however,  was  proceeding 
with  caution  ;  and,  as  he  approached  the 
British,  instead  of  coming:  forward  at  once 

O 

with  his  whole  force  and  striking  a  rapid 
blow,  his  troops  made  their  appearance 
emerging  from  the  woods  in  separate  de 
tachments.  The  enemy  were  drawn  up 
to  receive  him,  and,  as  Lee  was  formin<»- 

o 

his  line,  their  cavalry  began  to  manoeuvre 
in  the  direction  of  the  American  riirht. 

O 

Lafayette's  ardentand  youthful  spirit  was 
much  chafed  by  General  Lee's  cautious 
movements,  and,  eager  for  action,  he  at 
this  movement  begged  to  be  permitted 
to  try  to  get  to  the  rear  of  the  enemy. 
"Sir,"  answered  Lee,  '-you  do  not  know 
British  soldiers  ;  we  can  not  stand  against 
them;  we  shall  be  certainly  driven  back 
at  first,  and  we  must  be  cautious." — "It 
may  be  so,  general,"  responded  the  young 
marquis,  "but  British  soldiers  have  been 
beaten,  and  may  be  beaten  again  ;  at  any 
rate,  1  am  disposed  to  make  the  attempt." 
Lee  so  far  yielded  to  the  desire  of  the 
impulsive  Frenchman  as  to  allow  him  to 
wheel  his  column  to  the  right,  for  the 
purpose  of  attacking  the  enemy's  left 
flank. 

Lafayette  seems  to  have  been  so  much 
dissatisfied  with  Lee's  conduct,  that  he 
took  the  occasion  of  the  riding  up  of  one 
of  Washington's  aids-de-camp  to  send  back 
word  to  the  commander-in-chief  that  his 
presence  on  the  ground  was  absolutely 
necessary.  Lee  continued  to  act  with 


the  same  deliberate  circumspection,  and 
seemed  by  no  means  impatient  for  action. 
While  reconnoitring,  the  enemy  were  dis 
covered  to  be  in  so  much  greater  num 
bers  than  he  expected,  that  Lee  acknowl 
edged  that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  their 
strength.  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  moreover, 
was  making  preparations  for  a  vigorous 
attack  upon  the  Americans  in  his  rear, 
with  the  view  of  forcing  them  to  call  to 
their  aid  Dickinson  with  his  militia  and 
Morgan  with  his  rifle-corps,  who  were  se 
verely  harassing  the  British  van,  which 
was  marching  with  the  ba^ini^e.  While 

O  o  O      O 

Lee  was  cautiously  manoeuvring,  to  pre 
pare  to  meet  the  enemy,  a  confusion  took 
place,  either  in  his  orders  or  in  the  under 
standing  of  them  by  his  subordinate  offi 
cers  :  one  whole  brigade  having  retreat 
ed  when  it  had  been  ordered  merely  to 
fall  back,  the  rest  of  the  troops  followed 
in  disorder,  pursued  by  the  British. 

General  Washington,  in  the  meantime, 
was  pushing  on  to  the  support  of  Lee. 
When  he  reached  the  church  at  Free 
hold,  where  two  roads  joined,  General 
Greene  with  the  right  wing  took  one,  in 
order  to  prevent  a  flank-movement  on  the 
part  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton  ;  while  Wash 
ington  led  the  rest  of  the  force  along  the 
other  directly  to  the  rear  of  General  Lee, 
who  was  supposed  to  be  at  that  time  en 
gaged  with  the  enemy.  This  disposition 
having  been  made,  the  march  had  hardly 
been  resumed,  when  a  countryman  was 
met,  with  intelligence  that  the  continen 
tal  troops  were  in  full  retreat.  Washing 
ton  could  not  believe  it,  as  he  had  re 
ceived  from  Lee  such  an  encouraging  ac 
count  of  his  prospects,  and  there  had  been 


638 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n, 


June  28, 


no  indication  of  an  engagement,  beyond 
the  sound  of  a  cannon  or  two.  Soon,  how 
ever,  others-  came  up  with  the 
same  report ;  and  finally  the  re 
treating  troops  themselves  followed. 

"The  conviction  that  Lee  was  a  TRAI 
TOR,"  says  Lossing,  "  and  that  this  retreat 
was  the  first  bitter  fruit  of  his  treason, 
now  flashed  upon  the  mind  of  Washing 
ton.  Already  the  belief  that  he  was  un 
true,  and  a  dangerous  man  in  the  army, 
had  been  forced  upon  the  consideration 
of  many  officers;  but,  until  the  previous 
evening,  the  generous  heart  of  the  com 
mand  er-in-chief  would  not  harbor  such  a 
suspicion.  Late  at  night,  the  Reverend 
David  Griffiths,  a  Welshman,  and  chap 
lain  of  the  third  Virginia  regiment,  had 
repaired  to  headquarters,  and  warned  the 
chief,  in  presence  of  Hamilton,  Harrison, 
and  Fitzgerald,  not  to  employ  General 
Lee  in  commanding  the  advance  on  the 
ensuing  morning.  Washington  received 
the  warning  doubtingly ;  when  the  rev 
erend  gentleman,  on  retiring,  observed, '  1 
am  not  permitted  to  say  more  at  present, 
but  your  excellency  will  remember  my  warning 
voice  lo-morrov.^  in  the  battle  /'  Now  that 
warning  voice,  Lee's  opposition  to  attack 
ing  Clinton  at  all,  and  his  changefulness 
respecting  the  command  of  the  advance, 
all  combined  to  make  Washington  feel 
that  Lee  had  ordered  this  retreat  for  the 
purpose  of  marring  his  plans,  and  disgra 
cing  him  by  the  loss  of  a  battle,  so  as  to 
fulfil  the  traitor's  own  predictions  of  its 
failure." 

Washington  accosted  each  officer  as 
he  rode  up,  ordering  him  to  halt  his  men. 
and  asking  him  for  an  explanation  of  what 


seemed  so  incomprehensible.  He  could 
get  no  satisfactory  answer,  and  therefore 
determined  to  seek  out  General  Lee  him 
self.  Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  gal 
loped  rapidly  along  the  road  until  he 
reached  an  ascent,  from  which  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  Lee,  with  the  remainder  of 
his  troops,  coming  on  in  full  retreat.  The 
commander-in-chief  was  greatly  troubled 
at  what  had  occurred,  and,  holding  Lee 
responsible,  could  not,  on  meeting  him, 
contain  his  indignation. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  sir  ?"  he 
demanded  of  Lee,  looking  at  him  sternly, 
and  speaking  with  angry  emphasis.  "1 
desire  to  know,  sir,  the  meaning  of  this 
disorder  and  confusion  !"  repeated  Wash 
ington,  before  the  recreant  general  could 
sufficiently  recover  himself  from  the  ef 
fect  of  being  thus  accosted,  to  reply. 

Lee  now  in  turn  gave  issue  to  his  own 
temper,  and  answered  fiercely,  while  he 
hurriedly  strove  to  justify  his  conduct, 
saying  that  he  had  not  been  disposed  to 
face  the  whole  British  army  with  such  a 
force  as  he  had. 

"  I  have  certain  information,"  replied 
Washington,  "  that  it  was  only  a  cover 
ing-party." 

"  Covering-party  or  not,"  declared  Lee, 
"  it  was  stronger  than  mine,  and  I  was 
not  disposed  to  run  the  risk." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  then."  rejoined  Wash- 
ington/'thatyou  undertook  the  command, 
unless  you  meant  to  light  the  enemy." 

"  I  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  bring  on 
a  general  engagement,"  retorted  Lee. 

"  Whatever  your  opinion  may  have 
been,  I  expected  my  orders  would  have 
been  obeyed,"  said  Washington.  During 


UEVOLUTIONAKY.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONMOUTH. 


639 


this  brief  interview,  the  enraged  chief  is 
said,  on  the  authority  of  Lafayette,  to 
have  called  Lee  "a  damned  poltroon;" 
and  the  marquis  observed  that  this  was 
the  only  instance  in  which  he  ever  heard 
the  general  swear.  The  ardent  Hamil 
ton,  too,  who  also  remembered  the  chap 
lain's  warning,  here  dismounted,  and,  un 
sheathing  his  sword,  addressed  Washing 
ton  :  "  Your  excellency  and  this  army  are 
betrayed;  and  the  moment  has  arrived 
when  every  true  friend  of  America  and 
her  cause  must  be  ready  to  die  in  their 
defence  !"* 

There  was  no  time  for  further  alterca 
tion,  as  the  British  were  rapidly  pressing 
forward  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  Wash 
ington  rode  off  hastily  to  the  extreme 
rear  of  the  retreating  troops.  Taking  a 
rapid  survey  of  the  ground,  and  finding 
it  favorable  for  forming,  the  chief  ordered 
the  battalions  of  Colonel  Stewart  and 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Ramsay  to  face  about 
and  march  to  the  left,  where,  under  the 
cover  of  the  wood,  they  might  be  some 
what  protected  from  the  enemy's  artille 
ry,  and  also  be  enabled  to  check  their  ad 
vance. 

General  Lee,  on  being  told  by  one  of 
his  aids  that  Washington  had  taken  the 
command  of  his  division,  said,  "Then  I 
have  nothing  further  to  do  ;"  and,  turning 
his  horse,  he  rode  back  to  where  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  was  forming  a  front  out 
of  the  rear  of  the  retreating  troops  to  op 
pose  the  enemy's  approach.  As  he  came 
up,  Washington  asked:— 

"  Will  you  command  on  this  ground  or 
not?  If  you  will,  1  will  return  to  the 

*  Lossin<c. 


main  body,  and  have   them  formed  on 
the  next  height." 

"  It  is  equal  with  me  where  I  com 
mand,"  was  Lee's  reply. 

"  I  expect  you  will  take  proper  meas 
ures  for  checking  the  enemy,"  said  Wash 
ington,  emphatically. 

"  Your  orders  shall  be  obeyed,"  prompt 
ly  answered  Lee,  "and  I  will  not  be  the 
first  to  leave  the  field  !" 

Washington  now  hurried  back  to  the 
main  body,  which  he  formed  on  a  height, 
with  a  morass  in  front,  and  between  him 
and  Lee's  advanced  division.  He  had 
hardly  gone,  when  the  British  brought 
up  their  artillery,  and  began  a  severe  can 
nonade  on  Lee's  right,  which  was,  howev 
er,  well  returned  by  the  Americans.  At 
the  same  time  the  enemy  pushed  forward 
their  light-horse,  which,  making  an  im 
petuous  charge,  followed  by  a  large  body 
of  light-infantry,  drove  the  battalions  of 
Stewart  and  Rarnsay  before  them. 

The  engagement  now  became  hot  be 
tween  the  British  and  Varnum's  brigade 
united  with  Livingston's  regiment,  which 
had  been  stationed  in  front  of  the  bridge 
across  the  morass,  in  order  to  cover  the 
retreat  of  the  artillery  and  the  advanced 
troops.  They,  too,  were  obliged  to  give 
way  before  a  charge  of  the  enemy,  but 
retired  in  good  order.  Lee,  having  post 
ed  Colonel  Ogden  in  a  wood  near  the 
bridge,  ordered  him  to  defend  it  to  the 
last  extremity,  and  remained  in  person 
on  the  ground  until  the  orderly  retreat 
of  his  whole  force  was  secured,  when  he 
himself  crossed  the  bridge,  and  rode  up 
to  Washington.  "Sir,"  said  Lee,  "here 
are  my  troops :  how  is  it  your  pleasure 


640 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


that  I  should  dispose  of  them  ?"  As  they 
were  jaded  by  the  day's  work,  the  coni- 

mander-in-chief  ordered  them  to 
June  28.  .      , 

to  be  marched  to  the  rear,  in  the 

neighborhood  of  Englishtown,  that  they 
might  be  refreshed  by  repose. 

While  the  enemy  were  thus  checked 
by  Lee's  division,  Washington  had  an  op 
portunity  of  forming  his  line,  with  care 
ful  deliberation.  Lord  Stirling  command 
ed  the  left  wing,  where  he  had  posted 
some  heavy  artillery ;  and  Greene,  when 
he  discovered  Lee's  early  retreat,  had 
changed  the  direction  of  his  march,  and 
was  now  posted  with  his  whole  force  on 
his  lordship's  right. 

The  British  continued  to  advance  in 
front, but  Earl  Stirling  soon  checked  them 
with  his  artillery,  and  by  detachments  of 
infantry  pushed  forward  to  oppose  them. 
They  then  attempted  to  turn  his  flank, 
but  were  repulsed.  A  movement  toward 
the  American  front  proved  equally  un 
successful  ;  for  Greene  had  advanced  a 
body  of  troops,  and  Knox  with  his  artil 
lery ,  to  take  possession  of  some  rising 
ground  in  advance,  by  which  the  design 
of  the  enemy  was  checked,  and  their  en 
tire  front  enfiladed.  General  Wayne,  as 
usual,  among  the  most  active  with  his 
brigade,  having  been  posted  in  an  orchard 
close  to  the  foe,  when  Colonel  Monckton, 
of  the  British  grenadiers,  determined  to 
make  an  effort  to  drive  him  off.  So,  form 
ing  his  men  in  close  ranks,  he  ordered 
them  to  charge  with  the  bayonet.  Wayne 
bade  his  men  withhold  their  fire  until  the 
enemy  should  be  close  up.  On  they  came, 
with  their  colonel  at  their  head,  waving 
his  sword,  and  shouting  to  his  men,  when 


the  Americans  opened  their  fire,  and  the 
brave  Monckton  fell  amid  heaps  of  his 
slaughtered  grenad iers. 

The  British  now  fell  back  to  the  posi 
tion  occupied  by  General  Lee  in  the 
morning.  Here  their  flanks  were  secured 
by  thick  woods  and  morasses,  while  their 
front  could  only  be  approached  through 
a  narrow  pass.  Washington  was  not  dis 
posed,  howrever,  well  covered  as  they  ap 
peared  to  be,  to  let  them  escape  without 
another  attempt  to  get  at  them.  lie  ac 
cordingly  ordered  General  Poor,  with  his 
own  and  the  Carolina  brigade,  to  move 
toward  their  right,  General  Woodford  to 
their  left,  and  the  artillery  to  be  brought 
up  so  as  to  gall  them  in  front.  But  be 
fore  this  disposition  could  be  made,  the 
day  was  well  spent;  and  the  men  were 
so  fatigued  by  their  marching  and  coun 
termarching  in  the  sandy  Jersey  soil,  and 
so  prostrated  by  the  excessive  heat  (the 
day  being  one  of  the  most  sultry  of  the 
whole  season),  that  it  was  determined  to 

postpone  the  attack  till  the  next 

1 .  „.  June  29, 

morning.  Ihe  troops  were  ac 
cordingly  ordered  to  lie  upon  their  arms, 
in  order  to  be  in  readiness  for  action  at 
the  earliest  moment ;  while  the  general- 
in-chief  himself  wrapped  his  cloak  about 
him  and  lay  down,  with  the  young  mar 
quis  de  Lafayette  by  his  side,  at  the  foot 
of  a  tree,  talking  over  the  events  of  the 
day,  until  they  both  sought,  in  a  short 
night's  sleep,  refreshment  for  the  expect 
ed  struggle  of  the  coming  morning. 

Thus  ended  the  battle  of  Monmouth, 
which  was  one  of  the  most  hotly-contest 
ed  of  the  war,  and  in  which  great  skill 
was  exhibited  on  both  sides. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       RETREAT  OF  THE  BRITISH.— LOSSES  AT  MONMOUTH. 


641 


CHAPTER    LXXI. 

The  Dawn  of  Morning, — The  Enemy  gone. — Pursuit  impracticable. — Fresh  Graves. — Losses  on  Both  Sides. — Loss  of 
the  British  from  Heat  and  Desertion. — Their  March  through  New  Jersey. — Washington  moves  toward  the  North 
River. — A  Painful  March. — Horses  dying  in  Troops. — A  Refreshing  Halt  at  Brunswick. — Court-Martial  on  General 
Lee. — His  Letter  to  Washington. — lie  complains  of  "  Cruel  Injustice." — Washington's  Answer. — Lee's  Rejoinder. — 
Postponement  of  the  Trial. — Lee's  Skilful  Defence. — He  is  found  guilty. — The  Verdict. — Confirmed  by  Congress. — 
Lee's  Duel  with  Laurens. — Version  of  Lee. — His  Retirement  to  Virginia. — His  Morose  and  Secluded  Life. — His 
Eccentricity. — His  Death. — His  Singular  Will. — A  Traitor? — Justification  of  Washington. 


1778, 


THE  morning  came,  and  the  Amer 
ican  troops  were  aroused  to  arms 
by  the  early  beat  of  drum;  but  the  ene 
my  had  disappeared.  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
having  employed  the  early  part  of  the 
night  in  burying  some  of  his  dead,  and 
collecting  his  wounded,  marched  off  at 
twelve  o'clock,  and  with  such  cautious 
silence,  that  the  most  advanced  of  the 
American  outposts  had  not  the  least  sus 
picion  of  the  movement.  Nothing  was 

left  of  the  whole  army  in  the 
June  29,  .  J 

morning  but  lourollicers  and  ror- 

ty  soldiers,  who  had  been  so  severely 
wounded,  that  they  could  not  be  carried 
oil! 

The  extreme  heat  of  the  weather,  the 
continued  fatigue  of  the  men  from  their 
march  through  a  low,  sandy  country,  al 
most  destitute  of  water,  and  the  distance 
which  the  British  had  gained  by  their  se 
cret  march  in  the  night,  made  a  pursuit 
impracticable.  Washington  was  particu 
larly  apprehensive  of  the  fatal  effects  of 
the  excessive  heat.  Many  of  the  men  in 
both  armies  had  fallen  dead  on  the  field, 
without  a  shot,  while  exposed  to  the  hot 
glare  of  the  noonday  sun. 
81 


The  enemy  left  two  hundred  and  forty- 
five  non-commissioned  officers  and  pri 
vates  dead  on  the  field  of  Monmouth,  and 
four  officers,  among  whom  was  the  gal 
lant  Colonel  Monckton,  of  the  grenadiers. 
There  were  also  several  fresh  graves  ob 
served,  where  in  their  haste  they  had  bu 
ried  some  of  their  dead ;  and  more  than 
a  hundred  prisoners  were  taken.  "  Fifty- 
nine  of  their  soldiers,"  says  Lossing,  "  per 
ished  by  the  heat.  They  were  found  un 
der  trees  and  by  rivulets,  whither  they 
had  crept  for  shade  and  water,  without  a 
wound."  A  large  number  of  wounded 
were  carried  off  with  them  during  the 
action,  and  until  midnight,  when,  as  Wash 
ington  said,  "  they  stole  off  as  silent  as 
the  grave." 

The  American  loss  was,  seven  officers 
and  fifty-two  rank  and  file  killed,  and  sev 
enteen  officers  and  a  hundred  and  twen 
ty  privates  wounded.  The  only  two  im 
portant  officers  who  suffered  were  LieiN 
tenant-Colonel  Briuiier,  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  Major  Dickinson,  of  Virginia. 

The  British,  in  their  inarch  through 
New  Jersey,  suffered  a  loss,  including  the 
lesertions,  which  was  estimated  in  all  at 


642 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


about  two  thousand  men.  More  than  six 
hundred  deserters  went  back  to  Philadel 
phia,  and  many  joined  the  American  ar 
my.  One  of  the  German  regiments  was 
considered  so  disaffected,  that  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  did  not  venture  to  trust  it  on 
land,  and  accordingly  sent  it  to  New  York 
by  sea  from  Philadelphia,  while  he  took 
up  his  march  through  New  Jersey.  The 
British  were  now  left  almost  uninterrupt 
ed  to  pursue  their  way  to  Sandy  Hook, 
and  thence  to  New  York,  where  they  en 
camped  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city. 

Washington,  having  left  the  New-Jer 
sey  brigade,  Morgan's  corps,  and  some 
other  light  parties  behind  him,  to  hover 
about  the  enemy,  in  order  to  countenance 
desertions  from  their  ranks,  and  as  far  as 
possible  to  prevent  depredations,  moved 
on  the  rest  of  his  army  through  New- Jer 
sey  toward  the  North  river,  with  the  in 
tention  of  forming  a  junction  with  Gen 
eral  Gates,  then  in  command  at  Fishkill. 
The  march  from  English  town  to 
Brunswick  was  "  inconceivably 
distressing  to  the  troops  and  horses."  The 
route  lay  for  twenty  miles  through  a  deep 
sand,  during  the  extrernest  heat  of  the 
season,  while  there  was  but  one  shallow 
stream,  throughout  the  whole  distance, 
where  a  drop  of  water  could  be  obtained. 
Some  of  the  men  died  and  many  were  dis 
abled  in  consequence,  and  the  horses  fell 
dead  in  troops.  Upon  the  "  airy,  open 
grounds"  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bruns 
wick,  Washington,  though  eager  to  pur 
sue  his  march,  now  halted  his  army  for  a 
week,  that  his  men  might  obtain  the  re 
pose  and  refreshment  they  so  greatly  re 
quired. 


June  30, 


July  4, 


At  Brunswick  the  court-mar 
tial   first   assembled  which  was 
appointed  to  try  General  Lee  on  the  fol 
lowing  charges:  — 

"First.  Disobedience  of  orders,  in  not 
attacking  the  enemy  on  the  28th  of  June, 
agreeably  to  repeated  instructions. 

"Secondly.  Misbehavior  before  the  ene 
my  on  the  same  day,  by  making  an  unne 
cessary,  disorderly,  and  shameful  retreat. 

"Thirdly.  Disrespect  to  the  command- 
er-in-chief,  in  two  letters,  dated  the  1st 
of  July  and  the  28th  of  June." 

The  irascible  Lee  was  so  provoked  by 
the  angry  reprimand  of  Washington  for 
his  retreat  at  Monmonth,  that,  unable  to 
control  his  temper,  he  wrote  a  letter  1o 
the  commander-in-chief,  in  which  he  in 
dulged  in  personal  reflections  such  as  no 
superior  officer  could,  with  a  proper  re 
gard  to  his  own  dignity,  pass  by  without 
rebuke.  "  From  the  knowledge  I  have 
of  your  excellency's  character,"  wrote 
Lee,  "I  must  conclude  that  nothing  but 
the  misinformation  of  some  very  stupid 
or  misrepresentation  of  some  very  wicked 
person  could  have  occasioned  your  ma 
king  use  of  so  very  singular  expressions 
as  you  did  on  my  coming  up  to  the  ground 
where  you  had  taken  post.  They  implied 
that  I  was  guilty  either  of  disobedience 
of  orders,  want  of  conduct,  or  want  of 
courage.  Your  excellency  will  therefore 
infinitely  oblige  me  by  letting  me  know  on 
which  of  these  three  articles  you  ground 
your  charge,  that  I  may  prepare  for  my 
justification,  which  I  have  the  happiness 
to  be  confident  I  can  do  to  the  army,  to 
the  Congress,  to  America,  and  to  the  world 
in  general." 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         TRIAL  AND  CONVICTION  OF  GENERAL  LEE. 


Lee  then,  with  his  usual  self-sufficiency, 
having  not  only  justified  his  retreat,  but 
claimed  for  it  the  merit  of  having  saved 
the  day,  took  occasion,  after  telling  Wash 
ington  that  he  thought  him  "endowed 
with  many  great  and  good  qualities,"  to 
complain  that  he  had  been  "  guilty  of  an 
act  of  cruel  injustice  toward  a  man  who 
certainly  has  some  pretensions  to  the  re 
gard  of  every  servant  of  this  country. . . . 
And  I  think,  sir,"  added  Lee,  "I  have  a 
right  to  demand  some  reparation  for  the 
injury  committed ;  and,  unless  I  can  ob 
tain  it,  I  must  in  justice  to  myself,  when 
this  campaign  is  closed,  which  I  believe 
will  close  the  war,  retire  from  a  service, 
at  the  head  of  which  is  placed  a  man  ca 
pable  of  offering  such  injuries.  But  at 
the  same  time,  in  justice  to  you,  I  must 
repeat  that  I  from  my  soul  believe  that 
it  was  not  a  motion  of  your  own  breast, 
but  instigated  by  some  of  those  dirty  ear 
wigs,  who  will  for  ever  insinuate  them 
selves  near  persons  in  high  office." 

Washington  wrote  firmly  in  answer, 
telling  Lee  that  his  letter  was,  as  he  con 
ceived,  expressed  in  terms  highly  improp 
er,  and  that  he  was  not  conscious  of  hav 
ing  made  use  of  any  very  singular  ex 
pressions  at  the  time  of  meeting  him  da- 
ing  his  retreat.  "  What  I  recollect  to  have 
said,"  added  Washington,  "  was  dictated 
by  duty  and  warranted  by  the  occasion." 
He  closed  by  promising  him  the  oppor 
tunity  which  he  had  asked  for  justifying 
himself. 

Lee  petulantly  rejoined,  saying  :  "  You 
can  not  afford  me  greater  pleasure  than 
in  giving  me  the  opportunity  of  showing 
to  America  the  sufficiency  of  her  respec 


tive  servants.  I  trust  that  temporary 
power  of  office,  and  the  tinsel  dignity  at 
tending  it,  will  not  be  able,  by  all  the 
mists  they  can  raise,  to  obfuscate  the 
bright  rays  of  truth." 

General  Lee  was  now  arrested  and 
tried.  The  court-martial  was  convened 
as  early  as  the  4th  of  July,  but  its  ses 
sions  were  interrupted  by  the  movement 
of  the  army,  and  it  did  not  come  to  a  de 
cision  until  the  12th  of  August.  Lord 
Stirling  was  president,  and  the  rest  of  the 
court  was  composed  of  a  major-general, 
four  brigadiers,  and  eight  colonels.  Lee 
defended  himself  with  great  skill.  He 
contended  that,  as  his  orders  were  discre 
tionary,  he  could  not  be  justly  charged 
with  disobedience.  In  regard  to  the  re 
treat,  he  declared  that  he  did  not  wish  or 
give  any  orders  for  a  retrograde  manoeu 
vre  from  the  first  point  of  action,  adding  : 
"Even  when  I  was  informed  of  our  left 
being  abandoned,  the  retreat,  however 
necessary,  was,  I  am  ashamed  to  own  it, 
done  contrary  to  my  orders  and  contrary 
to  my  intentions.  He  claimed  that,  in 
falling  back  and  taking  the  ground  that 
he  intended  when  his  division  was  reti 
ring,  the  enemy  would  probably  have 
been  drawn  from  a  good  position,  and 
the  advantage  given  to  the  Americans. 
The  weak  point  in  Lee's  conduct  was  the 
fact  of  his  not  having  sent  word  to  Wash 
ington  of  the  retreat  of  his  troops  —  by 
which  neglect  the  safety  of  the  whole 
army  was  hazarded.  This  looked  either 
like  premeditated  injury  or  uncontrolla 
ble  confusion. 

General  Lee  was  found  guilty  of  all 
the  charges,  though  in  the  second  the  ex- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u. 


Dec.  5, 


pression  "  shameful"  was  omitted,  and  the 
term  "  disorderly"  mitigated  by  the  inser 
tion  of  "  in  some  instances."  The  sentence 
was,  suspension  from  all  command  in  the 
armies  of  the  United  States  for  the  term 
of  twelve  months. 

The  finding  of  the  court  was  now  re 
ferred  to  Congress  for  its  action.  Lee 
went  to  Philadelphia  at  the  time,  and  was 
not  a  little  wounded  in  spirit  to  find  his 
old  popularity  so  much  on  the  wane,  that, 
although  he  had  still  strong  friends,  the 
majority  of  the  members  were  evidently 
against  him.  He  strove  to  better  his 
cause,  by  writing  a  clever  defence,  which 
he  termed  "  General  Lee's  Vindication  to  the 
Public."  The  opinion  of  Congress  was, 
however,  unfavorable  ;  and  in  an 
exceedingly  thin  house,  fifteen 
voted  in  the  affirmative  and  seven  in  the 
negative,  thus  confirming  the  decision  of 
the  court-martial. 

General  Lee's  temper  was  not  improved 
by  these  adverse  circumstances.  He  be 
came  greatly  embittered  against  Wash 
ington,  and  took  every  occasion  to  rail  at 
him  and  his  military  conduct.  The  lat 
ter  remained  in  stoical  indifference  ;  but 
one  of  his  aids,  Colonel  Laurens,  was  hot 
and  young  enough  to  take  up  the  quar 
rel,  and  wrote  to  Lee,  declaring  that,  in 
contempt  of  decency  and  truth,  he  had 
"  publicly  abused  General  Washington  in 
the  grossest  terms,"  and  that  the  relation 
in  which  he  (Laurens)  stood  to  him  for 
bade  him  to  pass  such  conduct  unnoticed. 
He  therefore  demanded  the  satisfaction 
which  he  was  entitled  to ;  and  desired 
that,  as  soon  as  General  Lee  should  think 
himself  at  liberty,  he  would  appoint  time 


and  place  for  a  hostile  meeting,  and  name 
his  weapons." 

Lee  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  chal 
lenge,  and,  taking  advantage  of  his  privi 
lege,  as  the  challenged  party,  of  choosing 
his  weapons,  he  selected  pistols  instead 
of  the  smallsword,  in  the  use  of  which  he 
was  a  great  adept,  but  which  he  now  de 
clined  in  consequence  of  being  in  a  some- 
wluit  weak  state  of  body,  on  account  of  a 
fall  from  his  horse,  and  a  recent  fit  of  the 
gout.  His  courage  was  undoubted,  and 
Lee  bore  himself  in  the  encounter  with 
cool  intrepidity.  His  antagonist, however, 
proved  the  better  shot,  and  wounded  him 
slightly  in  the  side. 

Lee  was  especially  envenomed  against 
the  members  of  Congress  who  were  prom 
inent  in  favor  of  confirming  the  decision 
of  the  court-rnartial ;  and  William  Henry 
Drayton,  of  South  Carolina,  drew  upon 
himself  the  most  concentrated  bitterness 
of  the  wrathful  general,  who  tells  him  in 
a  letter,  "  I  find  that  you  are  as  malignant 
a  scoundrel  as  you  are  universally  allowed 
to  be  a  ridiculous  and  disgusting  coxcomb." 

tJ  e7 

Again,  he  says  :  "  You  tell  me  the  Ameri 
cans  are  the  most  merciful  people  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  I  think  so  too ;  and 
the  strongest  instance  of  it  is,  that  they 
did  not  long  ago  hang  you  up,  and  every  advo 
cate  for  the  stamp-act.  And  do  not  Hatter 
yourself  that  the  present  virtuous  airs  of 
patriotism  you  may  give  yourself,  and 
your  hard-labored  letters  to  the  commis 
sioners  and  the  king,  will  ever  wash  away 
the  stain.  If  you  think  the  terms  I  make 
use  of  harsh  or  unmerited,  my  friend  Ma 
jor  Edwards  is  commissioned  to  point  out 
your  remedy." 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         RETIREMENT  AND  DEATH  OF  GENERAL  LEE. 


645 


Lee  was  not  indulged  in  his  wish  for 
another  duel,  but  was  allowed  to  retire 
to  his  plantation  in  Berkeley  county,  in 
Virginia,  and  there  in  solitude  nurse  his 
discontent.  But  he  nevertheless  still  ex 
hibited  his  malevolence  toward  Washing 
ton,  by  publishing  his  "  Queries.,  Political 
and  Military"  in  which  there  was  a  labored 
attempt  to  depreciate  the  military  quali 
fications  and  conduct  of  the  commander- 
in-chief.  When  the  "  Queries"  were  sent 
to  the  publishers  of  the  Philadelphia  pa 
pers,  they  refused  to  publish  them;  but 
they  were  finally  printed  in  the  "Mary 
land  Journal"  of  Baltimore.  Their  publi 
cation  caused  a  storm  of  indignation,  and 
the  deeply-incensed  people  insisted  upon 
the  name  of  the  author  of  the  gross  li 
bels.  Lee  now  became  an  object  of  al 
most  universal  scorn.* 

The  spirit  of  the  fallen  general  contin 
ued  to  grow  more  and  more  irritable  and 
morose.  Having  heard  a  rumor  that  he 
was  to  be  deprived  of  his  commission  at 
the  close  of  the  term  for  which  he  was 
suspended,  Lee,  without  waiting  to  ascer 
tain  the  truth  or  falsity  of  the  report, 
wrote  an  insulting  letter  to  the  president 
of  Congress,  saying  :  "  Sir,  I  understand 
that  it  is  in  contemplation  of  Congress, 
on  the  principle  of  economy,  to  strike  me 
out  of  their  service.  Congress  must  know 
very  little  of  me,  if  they  suppose  that  I 
would  accept  of  their  money,  since  the  con 
firmation  of  the  wicked  and  infamous  sentence 

*  Among  the  "  Queries,"  twenty-five  in  number,  arc  the 
following,  showing  the  malignant  spirit  which  animated  the 
whole  :  "  Whether  it  is  salutary  or  dangerous,  consistent 
with  or  abhorrent  from  the  spirit  and  principles  of  liberty 
and  republicanism,  to  inculcate  and  encourage  in  the  people 
an  idea  that  their  welfare,  safety,  and  glory,  depend  on  one 
man  ?  Whether  they  really  do  depend  on  one  man  ?" 


which  ivas  passed  upon  me"*  This  was  re 
ceived  in  high  dudgeon  by  Congress,  and 
provoked  that  body  to  do  the  very  act 
which  it  been  unjustly  suspected  of  in 
tending:  Lee  was  summarily  dismissed 
from  the  army.  He  now  hid  himself  from 
all  public  observation,  slinking  away  in 
his  half-ruined  house  on  his  Virginia  es 
tate,  and  avoiding  all  companionship  but 
that  of  his  horses  and  dogs.  "  His  dwel 
ling,"  says  his  biographer,  '"  was  more 
like  a  barn  than  a  palace.  Glass-windows 
and  plastering  would  have  been  luxuri 
ous  extravagance,  and  his  furniture  con 
sisted  of  a  very  few  necessary  articles." 
Without  partitions,  the  one  apartment 
of  the  house  was  divided  into  parts  by 
lines  of  chalk  ;  and  the  eccentric  old  cam 
paigner,  as  he  looked  upon  his  bed  in  one 
corner,  his  guns,  whips,  and  saddles,  in 
another,  his  library  in  a  third,  and  his 
kitchen  in  a  fourth,  congratulated  him 
self  that  he  could  sit  and  oversee  the 
whole  without  moving  from  his  chair! 
Thus  he  lived  for  several  years,  until  he 
found  that  hoeing  tobacco,  as  he  termed 
it,  was  rapidly  bringing  him  into  debt. 
He  now  removed  to  Philadelphia,  where 
he  took  lodgings  at  an  inn  in  Market 
street,  known  by  the  sign  of  "  The  Connes- 
tijoe  Wayyon"  A  few  days  after  his  arri 
val,  he  was  attacked  by  a  fever,  which 
proved  fatal,  and  he  died  on  the  2d  of 
October,  1782.  The  last  words  which  the 
veteran  was  heard  to  utter  in  his  delirium 
(doubtless  inspired  by  the  flickering  re 
membrance  of  his  European  campaigns) 
were,  "Stand  by  inc.,  my  brave  grenadiers  /" 

*  Subsequently,  however,  on  learning  that  the  report  wag 
without  foundation,  he  offered  an  apology  to  Congress. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PABT    II. 


In  his  will,  General  Lee  showed  his 
gratitude  to  those  friends  who  had  been 
faithful  to  him  through  all  the  vicissitudes 
of  his  strange  career.  Among  his  old  aids- 
de-camp  he  divided  his  landed  estate  and 
distributed  most  of  his  horses,  his  "  brood 
mares  and  his  fillies,"  of  which  he  had  a 
choice  variety.  To  his  "  old  and  faithful 
servant,  or  rather  humble  friend,  Guiseppi 
Minghini,"  he  bequeathed  three  hundred 
guineas,  to  his  housekeeper  one  hundred 
and  his  stock  of  cattle,  with  all  his  negroes 
to  be  divided  equally  between  the  two. 
He  also  took  care  to  leave  money  to  buy 
"rings  of  affection"  for  this  and  that  friend 
in  whose  memory  he  desired  still  to  lin- 


This  characteristic  request  closed  the 
will :  "  I  desire  most  earnestly  that  I  may 
not  be  buried  in  any  church  or  church 
yard,  or  uithin  a  mile  of  any  Presbyterian  or 
Anabaptist  meetinghouse ;  for,  since  I  have 
resided  in  this  country,  I  have  kept  so 
much  bad  company  when  living,  that  I  do 
not  choose  to  continue  it  when  dead.::: 

"I  recommend  my  soul  to  the  Creator 
of  all  worlds  and  of  all  creatures ;  who 
must,  from  his  visible  attributes,  be  indif 
ferent  to  their  modes  of  worship  or  creeds 
—  whether  Christians,  Mohammedans,  or 
Jews ;  whether  instilled  by  education  or 
taken  up  by  reflection  ;  whether  more  or 
less  absurd ;  as  a  weak  mortal  can  no 
more  be  answerable  for  his  persuasions, 
notions,  or  even  skepticism,  in  religion, 
than  for  the  color  of  his  skin." 

*  Notwithstanding  this  expressed  wish,  Lee  was  interred 
in  Christ  churchyard,  at  Philadelphia,  with  military  honors, 
and  in  presence  of  a  large  assemblage  of  the  people,  drawn 
together  more  by  curiosity  than  veneration,  to  look  upon  the 
remains  of  one_whose  life  had  been  so  eventful 


Lee  passed  away  under  a  cloud  which 
has  perhaps  for  ever  obscured  his  charac 
ter  and  motives.  His  conduct  at  Mon- 
mouth  has  been  differently  appreciated. 
At  the  time,  most  men  were  of  the  opin 
ion  that  it  was  actuated  by  envy  of  Wash 
ington,  whom  he  had  hopes  of  supplant 
ing  in  the  chief  command,  if,  by  thwarting 
his  purposes,  he  could  make  it  appear 
that  the  general-in-chief  was  unequal  to 
his  position.  Others  have  not  hesitated 
to  charge  Lee  witli  treasonable  designs, 
and  have  connected  with  his  conduct  at 
Monmouth  an  incident  which  occurred  a 
short  time  previously:  — 

"Soon  after  General  Lee  rejoined  the 
army  at  Valley  Forge,"  says  Sparks,  "  a 
curious  incident  occurred.  By  order  of 
Congress,  General  Washington  was  re 
quired  to  administer  the  oath  of  allegi 
ance  to  the  general  officers.  The  major- 
generals  stood  around  Washington,  and 
took  hold  of  a  bible  together,  according 
to  the  usual  custom  ;  but  just  as  he  began 
to  administer  the  oath,  Lee  deliberately 
withdrew  his  hand  twice.  This  move 
ment  was  so  singular,  and  was  performed 
in  so  odd  a  manner, that  the  officers  smiled, 
and  Washington  inquired  the  meaning  of 
his  hesitancy.  Lee  replied  :  '  As  to  King 
George,  1  am  ready  enough  to  absolve 
myself  from  all  allegiance  to  him;  but  I 
have  some  scruples  about  the  prince  of 
Wales.'  The  strangeness  of  this  reply 
was  such,  that  the  officers  burst  into  a 
broad  laugh,  and  even  Washington  could 
not  refrain  from  a  smile.  The  ceremony 
was,  of  course,  interrupted.  It  was  re 
newed  as  soon  as  a  composure  was  re 
stored  proper  for  the  solemnity  of  the  oc 


REVOLUTIONARY]         CHARACTER  OF  LEE.— HIS  TREASON  PROVED. 


647 


ensiori,  and  Lee  took  the  oath  with  the 
other  officers."* 

While  most  men  attributed  Lee's  con 
duct  at  Monmouth  to  envy,  and  some  to 
treason,  there  were  others  who  justified 
it,  as  the  general  himself  strove  to  do,  on 
the  score  of  its  propriety.  Even  Marshall, 
the  impartial  judge,  declares  that  the  rea- 

*  A  document,  found  among  the  papers  of  Lord  and  Sir 
William  Howe,  has  lately  come  into  the  possession  of  the 
New-York  Historical  Society,  which  proves  that  Lee  was 
guilty  of  an  act  of  treason  while  a  prisoner  at  New  York, 
whatever  may  have  heen  his  conduct  before  or  after.  This 
document  is  in  the  handwriting  of  the  general,  and  is  en 
dorsed  "  LEE'S  PLAN,  1777,"  by  Strachey,  the  secretary  of 
Lord  and  Sir  William  Howe.  It  contains  an  elaborate  plan 
for  a  campaign  against  the  Americans,  by  which  the  war, 
as  the  writer  of  the  document  says,  "  may  be  effectually  put 
an  end  to."  The  paper  was  evidently  drawn  up  for  the 
benefit  of  the  enemy,  and  submitted  to  the  Howes,  while 
Lee  was  a  captive  in  New  York.  He  proposed  an  expedi 
tion  against  New  England,  so  as  to  keep  the  inhabitants 
there  at  home,  and  make  it  an  easy  matter  for  the  British  to 
hold  possession  of  New  York  and  the  Jerseys.  He  suggest 
ed  that,  simultaneously  with  this  movement  eastward,  a  con 
siderable  force  should  be  sent  up  the  Chesapeake  bay,  to 
land  at  and  take  possession  of  Annapolis,  and  march  into 
the  interior  of  Maryland  as  far  as  Queen  Anne  county.  An- 
.  other  was  to  be  despatched  up  the  Potomac,  and  take  pos 
session  of  Alexandria,  when  the  two  invading  armies  might 
form  a  junction  ;  while  a  third  should  ascend  the  Delaware 
and  capture  Philadelphia.  The  middle  states  would  now 
be  in  subjection,  and  New  England  and  the  southern  states 
would  be  too  wide  apart  to  act  in  efficient  concert.  "  These 
things  accomplished,"  adds  Mr.  Lossing,  "  and  the  system 
of  resistance  dismembered,  all  that  would  be  necessary,  to 
insure  a  complete  subjugation  of  the  revolted  states  to  the 
crown,  would  be  the  issuing  of  proclamations  of  pardon  to 
all  who  should  desert  the  republican  standard,  and  return 
to  their  allegiance  to  King  George."  The  paper  seems  to 
have  had  its  effect,  for  the  subsequent  southern  campaign 
of  the  British  accorded  witli  the  views  set  forth  by  Lee  in 
his  plan,  upon  the  success  of  which  he  emphatically  declares 
that  he  is  ready  to  stake  his  life.  With  this  document  the 
treason  of  General  Lee  is  proved  beyond  a  doubt;  and  his 
conduct  at  Monmouth  was  doubtless  prompted  by  a  desire 
to  throw  the  game  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  to  whose 
interest  while  at  New  York  he  had  pledged  himself.  (This 
"  plan"  of  Lee  was  discovered  at  the  close  of  1857,  among 
some  papers  said  to  have  been  brought  from  Nova  Scotia, 
and  offered  for  sale  in  New  York.  It  was  published  in  1859 
under  the  auspices  of  Professor  George  H.  Moore,  the  libra 
rian  of  the  Historical  Society.) 


sons  given  by  Lee  for  his  retreat  were 
such  that,  "if  they  do  not  absolutely  es 
tablish  its  propriety,  they  give  it  so  ques 
tionable  a  form  as  to  render  it  probable 
that  a  public  examination  never  would 
have  taken  place,  could  his  proud  spirit 
have  stooped  to  offer  explanation  instead 
of  outrage  to  the  commander-in-chief." 

It  has  been  inferred,  from  the  fact  that 
Washington,  after  Lee's  retreat,  and  hav 
ing  temporarily  deprived  him  of  his  com 
mand, should  have  immediately  reinstated 
him  on  the  field,  that  therefore  it  was  his 
intention  to  have  overlooked  his  conduct, 
until  he  was  provoked  into  noticing  it  by 
Lee's  insolent  letters.  This  supposition, 
however,  seems  so  to  belittle  the  motives 
of  Washington,  by  giving  them  a  person 
al  character,  that  it  is  surprising  that  his 
torians  have  ventured  thus  to  dishonor 
the  great  man. 

"  I  will  defy  any  person  out  of  my  own 
family,"  said  Washington  himself,  "  to  say 
that  I  have  ever  mentioned  his  name,  if 
it  wras  to  be  avoided ;  and  when  not,  that 
I  have  studiously  declined  expressing  any 
sentiment  of  him  or  his  behavior."  Lee 
did  his  utmost  to  provoke  recrimination, 
but  Washington  passed  by  his  malevo 
lence  without  notice,  declaring  :  "  I  have 
neither  the  leisure  nor  inclination  to  en 
ter  the  lists  with  him  in  a  newspaper; 
and,  so  far  as  his  production  points  to 
personality,  I  can  and  do  from  my  inmost 
soul  despise  it."  Lee  havjng  by  will  left 
his  papers  in  charge  of  Mr.  Goddard,  the 
editor  of  the  "Maryland  Journal"  who  in 
1785  proposed  to  publish  them,  and  wrote 
to  Washington,  to  know  if  he  wished  to 
examine  them  previously ;  but  the  latter 


048 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


declined,  solemnly  averring  :  "  I  can  have 
no  request  to  make  concerning  the  work. 
I  never  had  a  difference  with  that  gen 
tleman  but  on  public  grounds;  and  my 
conduct  toward  him,  on  this  occasion,  was 
such  only  as  I  felt  myself  indispensably 
bound  to  adopt  in  discharge  of  the  public 
trust  reposed  in  me.  If  this  produced  in 
him  unfavorable  sentiments  of  me,  I  can 
never  consider  the  conduct  I  pursued  with 
respect  to  him  either  wrong  or  improper, 
however  I  may  regret  that  it  may  have 
been  differently  viewed  by  him,  and  that 
it  excited  his  anger  and  animadversions. 
Should  there  appear  in  General  Lee's  wri 
tings  anything  injurious  or  unfriendly  to 
me,  the  impartial  and  dispassionate  world 
must  decide  how  far  I  deserved  it,  from 
the  general  tenor  of  my  conduct." 

In  passing  judgment  upon  the  charac 
ter  of  General  Lee,  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  from  the  beginning  he  seems 
to  have  acted  from  interested  and  selfish 
motives.  Thus,  when  on  the  19th  of  July, 
1775,  the  continental  Congress  appointed 
a  committee  to  wait  upon  him  and  notify 
him  of  his  appointment,  they' reported 
that  Lee  gave  for  answer :  "  That  he  had 
the  highest  sense  of  the  honor  conferred 
upon  him  by  the  Congress ;  that  no  effort 
in  his  power  shall  be  wanting  to  serve 
the  American  cause ;  but,  before  he  en 
tered  upon  the  service,  he  desired  a  con 
ference  with  a  committee,  to  consist  of  one 
delegate  from  each  of  the  associated  colonies, 
to  whom  he  desired  to  explain  some  par 
ticulars  respecting  his  private  fortune."  A 
committee  having  been  appointed,  and 


reporting  favorably,  Congress  "  resolved 
that  the  colonies  tvill  indemnify  General  Lee 
for  any  loss  of  property  which  he  may  sustain 
by  entering  into  their  service  ;  and  that  the 
same  be  done  by  this  or  any  future  Con 
gress,  as  soon  as  such  loss  is  ascertained." 
This  was  in  marked  contrast  to  the  con 
duct  of  Washington,  who,  though  incur 
ring  a  pecuniary  risk  far  greater  than  that 
of  Lee,  not  only  required  from  Congress 
no  surety  for  the  safety  of  his  private  for 
tune,  but  nobly  served  throughout  the 
war  without  personal  reward. 

General  Charles  Lee  "must  hereafter 
be  deservedly  ranked  with  Church  and 
Arnold,  among  the  traitors  whose  deeds 
stain  the  annals  of  the  American  Revo 
lution —  Reckless  and  unprincipled,  he 
was  willing  to  be  a  traitor  to  both  par 
ties;  but,  fortunately  for  the  republican 
cause,  he  was  deprived  of  opportunities 
for  doing  mischief  at  a  most  critical  time. 
—  As  a  military  adventurer,  he  was  con 
tinually  aiming  to  secure  personal  advan 
tages.  Proud  of  his  abilities,  and  puffed 
up  by  flatterers,  he  aspired  to  be  the  com- 
rnander-in-chief  of  the  American  armies. 
His  ambition  was  checked  at  the  outset. 
His  meteoric  light  was  dimmed  by  the 
steady  planetary  lustre  of  a  greater  than 
he;  and,  chafed  by  disappointment,  and 
hopes  deferred,  and  a  jealous  spirit  of  ri 
valry,  he  was  ready  to  betray  the  people 
who  confided  in  his  honor,  and  to  seek 
preferment,  fame,  and  fortune,  through 
the  dark  lanes  of  treason  and  its  abiding 
infamy."* 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  THE  BEAUTIFUL  VALLEY  OF  WYOMING. 


G49 


CHAPTER   LXXII. 

Description  of  the  Vale  of  Wyoming. — An  Indian  Paradise. — "  Delightful  Wyoming." — A  Change. — Quarrel  of  the 
Shawnees  and  the  Delawares. — The  Lords  of  Wyoming. — The  First  White  Man. — Count  Zinzendorf. — An  Unbeliev 
ing  Audience. — A  Miracle. — Conversion. — Yankee  Adventurers. — The  Susquchanna  Company. — Peace  and  Happi. 
ness. — A  Sudden  Change. — Indian  Massacre. — The  Pennsylvania  Company. — The  Quarrel  with  Great  Britain. — The 
Patriots  of  the  Valley. — Wyoming  in  Danger. — Colonel  Zehulon  Butler. — Preparations  for  Defence. — Approach  of 
the  Enemy. — The  Butler  Rangers. — Encingerachtan. — The  Battle. — Fratricide. — Massacre. — Suffering. — Horror  upon 
Horror. — Surrender  of  Fort  Forty. — Savage  Orgies. — Tragic  Laughter. — Flight  of  the  Inhabitants. — Adventure  and 
Suffering. — Desolate  Wyoming. — A  Metamorphosis. 


1778, 


AMONG  the  mountains  of  Pennsyl 
vania,  between  the  Blue  Ridge  and 
the  Alleghanies,  lies  the  valley  of  Wyo 
ming.  Through  a  gap  in  the  rugged  wall 
of  mountain  which  encloses  it,  the  river 
Susquehanna  bursts,  and  then  winds  in  a 
gentle  flow  among  the  rolling  fields  and 
level  meadows  which,  for  more  than  a 
score  of  miles  in  length  and  three  miles 
in  breadth,  form  the  fertile  area  of  the 
vale.  As  the  river  turns  and  turns  in  its 
tortuous  course  through  groves  of  wil 
low,  sycamore,  and  rnnple,  it  widens  here 
and  there  into  lake-like  expanses,  where 
its  waters  are  increased  by  the  flow  of 
other  and  smaller  streams,  which  gush  in 
noisy  torrents  from  the  mountains  on  all 
sides,  but  soon  subside  into  gentle  rivu 
lets  as  they  course  smoothly  through  the 
level  meads.  The  scene  of  beauty  pre 
sented  by  Wyoming  is  unsurpassed  in 
Nature.  The  mountains,  often  precipi 
tous  and  rugged,  and  jagged  here  and 
there  with  wild  ravines,  either  choked 
with  the  forest-growth  or  flooded  with 
turbulent  torrents,  increase  by  contrast 
the  gentle  beauties  of  the  valley  which 
they  enclose. 

82 


Inviting,  however,  as  is  this  beautiful 
valley  to  repose  and  happiness,  it  had 
hardly  been  the  abode  of  either  at  the 
time  of  which  we  write.  Long  before 
the  white  man,  attracted  by  its  promise 
of  generous  reward  to  labor,  sought  to  fix 
his  home  upon  its  fertile  soil,  the  Indian 
had  made  it  his  favorite  resort.  The  sav 
age  may  have  been  unconscious  of  the 
beauties,  but  he  was  familiar  with  the 
advantages,  of  the  valley.  Its  seclusion 
offered  comparative  security  to  his  wig 
wam,  his  squaw,  and  his  children,  hidden 
from  a  vindictive  enemy  among  the  ma 
ples  on  the  river-bank,  while  he  roamed 
beyond  the  mountains  in  pursuit  of  the 
elk.  The  stream  which  flowed  close  by 
his  door  was  filled  with  fishes  of  all  kinds 
—  with  the  perch,  the  pike,  the  bass,  the 
catfish,  the  roach,  and  the  shad.  Small 
game,  too,  abounded  everywhere  in  the 
valley.  The  quail  whistled  in  the  mead 
ow  ;  the  pheasant  rustled  in  its  leafy  cov 
ert;  the  wild-duck  reared  her  brood  and 
bent  the  reed  in  every  islet ;  and  even 
the  red  deer  ventured  to  browse  upon 
the  acclivities  of  the  surrounding  hills/'-' 

*  Miner's  History  of  Wyoming. 


050 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


With  nothing  but  the  rude  culture  of 
the  Indian,  the  maize  grew  abundantly 
on  the  fertile  land ;  while  the  wild  plum, 
the  grape,  the  hazelnut,  and  the  butter 
nut,  yielded  a  profuse  harvest,  without 
the  care  or  labor  of  man. 

Such  was  "  delightful  Wyoming"  by  Na 
ture  ;  but  it  was  never  long  a  scene  of 
peace  and  repose.  Different  tribes  of  In 
dians  came  to  build  their  villages  in  the 
valley.  There  was  plenty  of  room  for 
all.  The  Nanticokes  had  settled  on  the 
east  side  of  the  Susquehanna,  and  the 
Shawnees  in  the  meadows  on  the  west ; 
when  the  Delawares,  driven  away  from 
their  native  river  by  the  warlike  IroquoLs, 
came  also  to  settle  in  the  valley,  on  the 
banks  of  the  first-named  stream. 

For  awhile,  peace  reigned  among  them. 
The  Delawares,  however,  being  away  up 
on  the  mountains,  on  a  hunting-expedi 
tion,  some  of  their  squaws  with  their  chil 
dren  went  to  gather  wild  fruits  along  the 
banks  of  the  river,  when  they  came  upon 
a  company  of  Shawnee  mothers  and  little 
ones.  A  Shawnee  boy  (so  runs  the  tradi 
tion)  having  caught  a  large  grasshopper, 
a  quarrel  arose  between  him  and  some 
of  the  little  Delawares  as  to  whom  it  be 
longed.  The  mothers  now  took  part  in 
the  dispute,  and  from  words  they  came 
to  blows ;  when,  after  several  had  been 
killed  in  the  strife,  the  Shawnees  were 
forced  to  take  to  their  canoes  and  paddle 
across  to  the  side  of  the  river  where  they 
belonged. 

When  the  Delaware  warriors  returned 
from  the  mountains,  and  heard  of  the 
quarrel  and  its  fatal  consequences,  they 
resolved  upon  revenge.  A  fierce  conflict 


ensued,  in  which  nearly  one  half  of  the 
whole  tribe  of  the  Shawnees  were  killed, 
and  the  rest  were  driven  for  ever  from 
the  valley.*  In  the  course  of  time,  the 
Delawares  became  the  sole  lords  of  Wy 
oming. 

The  first  white  man  who  penetrated 
through  the  mountains  to  this  secluded 
valley  was  Count  Zinzendorfj  who  came 
with  pious  enthusiasm  to  convert  the  In 
dians,  f  He  arrived  in  1742,  accompanied 
only  by  an  interpreter,  and  boldly  set  up 
his  tent  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village. 
He  told  the  Indians,  as  they  gathered 
threateningly  about  him,  that  he  had 
crossed  the  great  waters,  and  was  a  mes 
senger  from  the  Great  Spirit  sent  to  teach 
them  the  true  worship.  They  listened, 
but  did  not  believe  his  word  ;  and,  think 
ing  that  his  object  was  to  take  their  lands 
from  him,  they  determined  to  destroy  the 
intruder.  With  the  genuine  nature  of 
Indians,  they  chose  the  night  for  the  pur 
pose,  and,  with  their  tomahawks  in  their 
hands,  groped  their  way  to  the  good  man's 
tent.  As  they  lifted  its  folds,  and  were 
stealing  in  with  cautious  steps,  they  saw 

*  They  migrated  to  North  Carolina,  thence  to  Ohio,  and 
were  finally  removed  to  the  "  Indian  reservation"  in  Kansas, 
where  they  now  remain,  in  charge  of  Quakers. 

t  Count  NICHOLAS  Louis  ZINZENDORF,  the  restorer  of 
the  sect  of  Moravians,  was  born  at  Dresden,  in  1700.  He 
was  son  of  the  elector  of  Saxony's  chamberlain;  and  was 
educated  at  Halle  and  Wittenberg.  He  early  manifested  an 
enthusiastic  turn  of  mind  with  respect  to  religious  concerns. 
In  1721,  having  given  an  asylum  on  his  estate  to  some  of 
the  persecuted  Moravian  brethren,  he  espoused  their  doc 
trines,  and  became  the  head  of  their  church.  To  spread 
those  doctrines,  and  procure  toleration  for  the  professors  of 
them,  he  travelled  over  a  large  part  of  continental  Europe, 
visited  England,  and  made  two  voyages  to  America.  He 
died  in  1760.  The  Moravians,  and  their  head,  were  long 
the  subject  of  many  gross  calumnies,  from  which,  however, 
their  meritorious  conduct  has  amply  vindicated  them. —  Cy 
clopaedia  of  Biography. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COUNT  ZINDENDORF.— MASSACRE  OF  WHITES. 


651 


Zinzendorf  seated  upon  a  bundle  of  reeds 
•which  he  had  cut  from  the  margin  of  the 
river,  and  writing  in  a  book  before  him. 
At  that  moment  a  huge  rattlesnake,  which 
had  been  enlivened  by  the  warmth  of  the 
fire  that  the  count  had  lighted,  came  out 
of  the  hollow  of  a  tree,  and  crawled  over 
his  feet,  apparently  without  his  being  con 
scious  of  it.  The  deadly  purpose  of  the 
savages  was  at  once  arrested  ;  and,  believ 
ing  that  their  visiter  was  under  the  pro 
tection  and  truly  a  messenger  of  the  Great 
Spirit,  they  stole  quietly  back  to  the  vil 
lage,  and  told  of  the  wonder  which  they 
had  beheld.  This  secured  a  favorable  re 
ception  for  Zinzendorf  among  the  Dela- 
wares  j  and  the  Moravians  date  their  suc 
cess  as  missionaries  among  the  Indians 
from  this  event. 

Other  white  visiters,  however,  soon 
came,  with  very  different  objects  from 
those  of  the  benevolent  Zinzendorf.  In 
1750,  a  band  of  shrewd  New-Englanders 
crossed  the  mountains,  and,  gazing  from 
the  summits  of  the  surrounding  hills  upon 
the  fertile  valley  of  Wyoming,  were  at 
once  impressed  with  the  advantages  it 
offered  for  a  profitable  enterprise.  On 
contrasting  the  rugged  hills  of  their  na 
tive  Connecticut  with  the  fat  lands  which 
had  gladdened  their  eyes  from  the  mount 
ain-tops  of  the  Susquehanna,  they  became 
dissatisfied  with  their  home,  and  deter 
mined  to  emigrate.  The  "  Susquehanna 
Company"  was  accordingly  formed,  for 
the  purpose  of  trading  with  the  Dela- 
wares  for  their  beautiful  valley,  and  ma 
king  arrangements  for  the  proposed  set 
tlement.  The  Indians  were  readily  per 
suaded  to  part  with  "  delightful  Wyoming" 


for  the  sum  of  "  two  thousand  pounds  of 
current  money  of  the  province  of  New 
York." 

It  was  not,  however,  till  the  year  1762, 
after  the  close  of  the  French  War,  that 
the  New-Englanders  took  possession  of 
their  purchase,  when  some  two  hundred 
men  entered  the  valley,  and  commenced 
clearing  farms.  They  had  cut  down  the 
timber,  built  their  log-houses,  and,  before 
the  winter  frosts  set  in,  had  sown  broad 
fields  with  wheat.  They  now  concealed 
their  implements  of  husbandry,  that  they 
might  be  secure  from  the  depredations 
of  the  Indians,  who  still  preserved  their 
villages  in  the  valley,  and  returned  to 
pass  the  winter  in  Connecticut.  In  the 
spring  of  1763  they  came  back  with  their 
wives  and  their  children* their  cattle  and 
their  household  furniture,  intending  to 
make  Wyoming  their  permanent  home. 

The  season  had  been  favorable ;  their 
crops  had  proved  abundant,  and  the  set 
tlers  were  looking  forward  with  hope  to 
a  life  of  peace  and  happiness,  when  sud 
denly  a  large  party  of  their  savage  neigh 
bors  burst  upon  them  with  a  loud  war- 
whoop,  and  began  an  indiscriminate  mas 
sacre.  Twenty  fell  at  the  first  attack, 
and  the  rest  of  the  white  settlers  fled  in 
fright  to  the  mountains.  The  Indians, 
fearful  that  they  would  suffer  a  severe 
retribution  from  the  hands  of  the  whites, 
disappeared  altogether  from  the  valley ; 
when  again,  after  an  interval  of  six  years, 
another  hardy  band  of  settlers  came  from 
Connecticut.  There  were  no  longer  any 
red  men  to  oppose  them,  but  some  hardly 
less  savage  whites  now  disputed  posses 
sion  of  the  valley. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


A  Pennsylvania  company,  in  the  mean 
while,  had  prevailed  upon  the  Indians  to 
sell  their  land  over  again,  and  repudiate  the 
purchase  of  theNew-Englanders.  Accord 
ingly,  when  forty  of  the  latter,  under  the 
authority  of  the  Susquehanna  Company, 
came  to  take  possession  of  Wyoming,  they 
found  a  formidable  number  of  represen 
tatives  of  the  rival  association  prepared 
to  dispute  it  with  them.  A  fight  ensued, 
and  the  "  Yankees"  were  driven  off;  but, 
coming  back  with  a  reinforcement,  they 
fi  nally,  after  a  prolonged  struggle,succeed- 
ed  in  securing  possession  of  the  ground. 
The  dispute,  however,  still  remained  un 
decided,  when  the  breaking  out  of  the 
Revolutionary  War  diverted  the  inhabit 
ants  of  the  valley  from  their  own  quarrel 
to  that  with  Great  Britain. 

The  people,  with  prompt  patriotism, 
eagerly  came  forward  to  sustain  the  cause 
of  liberty.  Two  companies,  of  eighty-two 
men  each,  were  raised  in  the  town  of 
Westmoreland,  as  the  chief  settlement  in 
the  valley  of  Wyoming  was  called.  These 
readily  obeyed  the  summons  of  Congress 
to  join  Washington,  and  aid  in  fighting 
the  battles  of  the  country.  They  were 
with  the  continental  army  in  its  camp  at 
Brunswick,  when  their  homes  on  the  Sus 
quehanna  were  threatened  with  devasta 
tion  by  the  savage  allies  of  the  British. 
Letters  came  from  aged  fathers,  mothers, 
from  wives  and  sisters,  urging  their  nat 
ural  protectors  to  hasten  to  the  defence 
of  all  they  loved.  The  summons  was 
heard,  but  could  not  be  obeyed.  The 
men  begged  for  permission  to  leave  the 
army,  and  go  to  Wyoming,  but  were  re 
fused.  Congress  and  their  own  state  of 


Connecticut  were  appealed  to,  but  in  vain. 
At  the  last  moment,  some  twenty  men, 
willing  to  risk  all,  deserted,  and  five  com 
missioned  officers  resigned,  and  hastened 
to  Wyoming,  with  the  sad  foreboding  that 
they  might  be  too  late,  and  even  power 
less  if  in  time,  to  avert  from  their  beloved 
vale  the  impending  blow,  but  determined 
to  share  the  common  peril  with  their  kin 
dred. 

Colonel  Zebulon  Butler,  a  continental 
officer,  had  been  successful  in  his  appli 
cation  for  leave  of  absence  from  the  army, 
and,  being  chosen  leader,  now  prepared 
to  make  every  resistance  which  the  val 
ley  with  its  diminished  population  was 
capable  of.  On  each  side  of  the  Susque 
hanna  were  several  old  forts,  rudely  con 
structed  of  logs.  The  principal  one  on 
the  west,  about  two  miles  above  Wilkes- 
barre,  was  "  Fort  Forty,"  so  called  from 
having  been  raised  by  the  forty  pioneers 
who  came  into  the  valley  in  1769.  This 
had  been  strengthened  when  the  Revo 
lutionary  War  began,  and  blockhouses 
were  now  added  to  it,  to  shelter  the  wo 
men  and  children  when  forced  to  seek 
refuge  from  the  enemy. 

Colonel  Zebulon  Butler  now  mustered 
all  the  force  that  he  could  gather.  This 
amounted  but  "to  two  hundred  and  thirty 
enrolled  men  and  seventy  old  people  — 
boys,  civil  magistrates,  and  other  volun 
teers."  Most  of  the  able-bodied  men  were 
with  Washington's  army,  and  those  who 
had  been  left  in  the  valley  were  the  few 
whose  labor  wras  necessary  to  cultivate 
the  land ;  while  the  rest  of  the  male  in 
habitants  were  the  aged  and  the  sick. 
They  all  now  came  forward  in  the  urgen- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         WYOMING  INVADED  BY  TORIES  AND  INDIANS. 


653 


cy  of  danger.  The  strong  men  abandoned 
the  fields ;  the  old  men  and  the  feeble 
left  their  retreats  beneath  the  sweet 
shades  of  the  honeysuckled  porch;  the 
boys  played  no  longer  about  the  school- 
house.  Age,  youth,  and  sickness,  were 
nerved  to  unusual  vigor ;  and  every  one, 
with  musket  on  his  shoulder,  prepared  to 
strike  a  blow  for  the  defence  of  his  home. 

While  the  men  were  being  drilled  from 
morning  till  night  at  the  fort,  the  \vomen 
and  the  girls  cheerfully  went  forth  into 
the  fields  to  plant  seed,  make  hay,  or  gar- 
iier  corn.  They  also  bore  a  share  in  the 
military  preparations.  A  "  pounder"  was 
brought  into  the  settlement;  "and  the 
women  took  up  their  .floors,  dug  out  the 
earth,  put  it  in  casks,  and  run  water 
through  it  (as  ashes  are  leached);  then 
took  ashes  in  another  cask,  and  made 
lye ;  mixed  the  water  from  the  earth  with 
weak  lye,  boiled  it,  set  it  to  cool,  and  the 
saltpetre  rose  to  the  top.  Charcoal  and 
sulphur  were  then  used,  and  powder  pro 
duced  for  the  public  defence."* 

The  expected  foe  finally  approached. 
On  the  last  day  of  June,  1778,  Colonel 
John  Butler,  a  tory  of  Tryon  county,  in 
New  York,  an  ally  of  Sir  William  and  Sir 
Guy  Johnson,  and  like  them  famous  as  a 
leader  of  the  Indians,  entered  the  head 
of  the  valley  of  Wyoming.  The  force 
with  him  numbered  about  eleven  hun 
dred  men,  and  was  composed  of  the  But 
ler  Rangers,  a  detachment  of  Johnson's 
Royal  Greens,  and  about  six  hundred  In 
dians,  led  on  by  Encingcrachtan.,  a  chief  of 
the  "  Turtle"  tribe  of  the  Senecas.  Among 
Butler's  troops  were  some  tories  who  be- 

*  Miner's  History. 


longed  to  Wyoming  valley,  and  who,  hav 
ing  been  driven  away  from  their  homes, 
burned  to  revenge  themselves  upon  the 
patriots,  although  they  had  been  their  old 
neighbors,  and  among  them  were  their 
kindred. 

At  the  head  of  the  valley  there  were 
still  some  settlers  left  who  clung  to  the 
tory  interests ;  and  as  soon  as  Butler  pre 
sented  himself,  his  plans  were  facilitated 
by  their  connivance.  Fort  Wintermost 
was  in  the  control  of  a  family  of  that 
name,  who,  being  loyalists,  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  yield  it  up  at  once  ;  while  another 
fort  was  forced  to  surrender.  Butler  then 
sent  a  summons  to  Fort  Forty,  which  the 
resolute  patriots  who  held  it  answered  by 
a  prompt  refusal. 

As  soon  as  the  enemy  had  entered  the 
valley,  Colonel  Zebulon  Butler  mustered 
alt  his  force  at  the  fort,  where  the  settlers 
had  fled  for  refuge.  The  summons  to  sur 
render  having  been  refused,  a  council  was 
held,  to  consider  what  next  was  to  be 
done.  The  majority  were  for  marching 
out  against  the  foe,  and  giving  them  bat 
tle  at  once.  Butler  and  some  of  the  old 
er  officers  were  in  favor  of  delay,  in  the 
hope  that  some  reinforcements  which  they 
had  urgently  entreated  might  be  sent  to 
their  aid,  would  arrive.  The  impatience 
of  the  rest,  however,  could  not  be  con 
trolled  ;  and  Colonel  Butler,  though  still 
opposed  to  the  march,  mounted  his  horse, 
exclaiming,  "I  tell  you  we  go  into  great 
danger,  but  I  can  go  as  far  as  any  of  you !" 
and  led  forth  his  meager  band  of  "three 
hundred  men,  old  men,  and  boys."  They 
set  out  on  their  march  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon ;  and,  as 


65  t 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA.  • 


they  advanced  toward  the  head  of  the  val 
ley,  they  saw  Fort  Wintermost  in  flames, 
which  had  been  set  on  fire  by  the  enemy, 
to  give  the  impression  that  they  were  re 
tiring. 

The  colonel  pushed  on  until  he  came 
writhin  sight  of  the  enemy,  posted  on  a 
plain  between  the  river  Susquehanna  and 
a  marsh,  when,  selecting  his  ground,  he 
drew  up  his  little  force.  On  the  right  of 
"Indian  Butler"  (as  lie  was  called,  to  dis 
tinguish  him  from  the  commander  of  the 
patriots)  were  his  savage  allies  and  the 
tories  of  Wyoming,  while  on  his  left  were 
his  own  Rangers  and  Johnson's  Royal 
Greens.  The  patriot  Butler  formed  his 
line  of  the  same  extent,  directly  opposite, 
posting  his  right  near  the  river,  and  his 
left,  under  Colonel  Denison,  toward  the 
marsh. 

"  Men,  yonder  is  the  enemy  !"  exclaim 
ed  the  patriot  colonel.  "  We  come  out 
to  fight,  not  only  for  liberty,  but  for  life 
itself;  and,  what  is  dearer,  to  preserve 
our  homes  from  conflagration,  and  our 
women  and  children  from  the  tomahawk. 
Stand  firm  the  first  shock,  and  the  Indi 
ans  will  give  way.  Every  man  to  his 
duty!" — "Be  firm!  everything  depends 
on  resistingthe  first  shock,"  repeated  Colo 
nel  Denison  on  the  left :  and  the  whole 
line  was  ordered  to  fire,  and  at  each  dis 
charge  to  advance  a  step. 

The  men  behaved  themselves  with  cool 
ness,  and  kept  up  the  fire  steadily  and 
with  such  effect,  that  at  one  moment  the 
enemy  appeared  to  waver;  but  the  Indi 
ans  now  came  to  their  rescue.  These  sav 
ages  plunged  into  the  morass,  to  turn  the 
left  flank  of  the  patriots  ;  while  others, 


[PART  n. 

skulking  behind  the  bushes  and  the  pine- 
trees  which  grew  near  the  river,  kept  up 
a  galling  fire  on  the  right.  Colonel  Deni 
son  strove  to  prevent  the  Indians  from 
outflanking  him, and  ordered  the  left  wing 
to  fall  back,  that  it  might  present  a  front 
to  them.  His  raw  militia,  however,  mis 
understood  the  order,  and  began  to  re 
treat.  "Don't  leave  me,  my  children," 
cried  their  colonel,  "  and  the  victory  is 
ours !"  But  it  was  too  late.  The  great 
est  confusion  prevailed,  and  the  patriots 
finally  turned  and  fled  in  all  directions, 
with  the  savages  in  fierce  pursuit.  Few 
escaped  the  merciless  tomahawk;  no  quar 
ter  was  shown,  and  many  of  those  taken 
prisoners  were  put  to  d^eath  with  cruel 
tortures. 

The  Indians  counted  two  hundred  and 
twenty-seven  scalps  as  their  barbarous 
trophies  of  the  day,  and  only  spared  the 
lives  of  five  of  the  captives,  who  were 
saved  with  the  greatest  difficulty  by  the 
interposition  of  their  white  leader,  Butler. 
Great  as  were  the  horrors  of  the  massa 
cre,  they  were  much  exaggerated  by  the 
contemporary  reports,  which  have  been 
repeated  by  most  subsequent  historians. 
Two  well-authenticated  incidents.,  howev 
er,  were  of  a  nature  sufficiently  terrible 
to  set  the  imagination  brooding;,  until  hor- 

O  O-7 

ror  accumulated  upon  horror. 

Several  of  the  fugitives,  having  thrown 
away  their  arms,  succeeded  in  swimming 
to  an  island  in  the  river  called  Monocko- 
nock,  and  hid  themselves  amid  the  brush 
wood.  The  enemy  were  in  hot  pursuit, 
arid  followed  them  across  the  stream,  and, 
having  deliberately  wiped  their  muskets, 
which  had  been  wetted  by  the  water,  re- 


KKVOLUTIONART.]         FRATRICIDE.— FORT  FORTY  SURRENDERED. 


655 


loaded  them,  and  began  to  beat  up  the 
island  in  search  of  the  hidden  fugitives. 
One  of  the  pursuers  was  a  former  tory 
settler  of  Wyoming ;  (  and  as  he  passed 
slowly  along,  carefully  scrutinizing  every 
covert,  he  suddenly  came  upon  a  fugitive, 
who  proved  to  be  his  brother !  "  So,  it 
is  you,  is  it  ?"  exclaimed  he  fiercely.  The 
poor  fellow,  finding  himself  discovered, 
came  out  of  his  hiding-place,  and,  throw 
ing  himself  upon  his  knees,  begged  his 
brother  to  spare  his  life ;  declaring  that, 
if  he  would,  he  would  live  with  him  and 
serve  him  as  a  slave  for  the  rest  of  his 
days.  "  All  this  is  mighty  good,  but  you 

are  a  d d  rebel !"  was  the  only  answer 

to  this  fraternal  appeal ;  and  the  monster 
levelled  his  rifle,  and  shot  his  brother 
dead  upon  the  spot. 

One  Elijah  Shoemaker,  while  endeav 
oring  to  escape,  plunged  into  the  river; 
but,  not  being  able  to  swim,  he  feared  to 
venture  beyond  his  depth.  At  this  mo 
ment  he  was  observed  by  one  of  the  ene 
my,  a  tory  of  the  name  of  Windecker, 
who  had  been  indebted  to  Shoemaker  for 
many  an  act  of  neighborly  kindness  in 
former  days.  "  Come  out.  Shoemaker !" 
hallooed  Windecker.  "I  am  afraid  you 
will  give  me  up  to  the  Indians,"  was  the 
reply.  «No,"  rejoined  Windecker,  "I'll 
save  you  ;  they  sha'  n't  hurt  you."  The 
poor  fellow,  trusting  to  his  word,  no  soon 
er  came  within  his  reach,  than  the  per 
fidious  Windecker  dashed  his  tomahawk 
into  his  head,  and  sent  the  lifeless  body 
floating  down  the  stream. 

Some  fugitives  escaped  by  swimming 
the  river ;  others  by  crossing  the  morass 
to  the  mountains,  and  hiding  themselves 


until  night,  when  they  made  their  way 
back  to  Fort  Forty.  The  two  colonels, 
being  mounted,  were  the  first  to  reach 
the  fort,  and  bring  the  sad  intelligence 
of  the  day's  disaster  to  the  defenceless 
old  men,  Avomen,  and  children,  there  hud 
dled  together.  After  they  had  drawn  up 
terms  of  capitulation  to  be  offered  to  the 
enemy,  Colonel  Butler  crossed  the  river 
to  Wilkesbarre  ;  and  early  next  morning, 
throwing  a  feather-bed  across  his  horse, 
and  mounting  with  his  wife  behind  him, 
he  made  his  escape  from  the  valley,  leav 
ing  Colonel  Denison  in  chief  command 
of  the  fort. 

In  the  evening,  a  small  reinforcement 
of  militia  from  the  neighboring  towns  of 
Salern  and  Huntington  arrived  at  Fort 
Forty,  which  somewhat  strengthened  the 
garrison,  but  did  not  encourage  them  to 
hold  out.  On  the  next  morning,  'f 
Colonel  John,  the  "  Indian"  But 
ler,  sent  in  a  summons  to  Colonel  Deni 
son  to  surrender,  which,  after  a  short  ne 
gotiation,  was  complied  with.  The  terms 
agreed  upon  were,  that  the  settlers  should 
lay -down  their  arms,  and  not  resume  them 
during  the  contest;  that  the  fort  be  de 
molished  ;  that  the  continental  stores  be 
given  up ;  that  the  British  prisoners  in 
the  fort  be  released  ;  that  the  inhabitants 
be  allowed  to  occupy  their  farms,  that 
their  lives  and  property  be  preserved,  and 
that  Colonel  Butler  should  use  his  utmost 
influence  with  his  troops  and  Indians  in 
securing  these  conditions.  It  was  also 
agreed  that  the  property  taken  from  "  the 
people  called  tories"  should  be  made  good, 
and  that  they  should  be  allowed  to  re 
main  in  the  peaceable  possession  of  their 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


July  5. 


farms,  and  unmolested  in  pursuing  a  free 
trade  throughout  the  settlement. 

On  the  ensuing  day,  the  gates 
of  Fort  Forty  were  thrown  open, 
and  the  tory  Butler  entered  with  his  Ran 
gers,  followed  by  the  Seneca  chief  En- 
cingerachtan  and  his  Indian  warriors. 

o 

The  arms  of  the  garrison  were  all  stacked, 
and  Butler,  pointing  to  them  as  his  sav 
age  allies  came  in,  exclaimed,  "  See  what 
a  present  the  Yankees  have  made  you !" 
During  the  day,  the  Indians  contented 
themselves  with  skulking  about  the  set 
tlement,  and  peering  with  their  painted 
faces  through  the  doors  of  the  houses ; 
and,  although  they  greatly  terrified  the 
inhabitants,  they  did  not  harm  them  or 
their  property.  The  savages,  however, 
soon  gave  way  to  their  instincts  for  plun 
der.  Helping  themselves  to  the  rum  in 
the  shops  and  taverns,  they  soon  became 
so  wild  with  drink,  that  their  leader,  But 
ler,  lost  all  control  over  them.  He  was 
remonstrated  with  by  Colonel  Denison, 
for  not  extending  the  protection  to  the 
inhabitants  which  had  been  guarantied 
by  the  treaty.  Butler,  however,  waved 
his  hand  significantly,  and  declared,  "I 
can  do  nothing  with  them."  Without 
further  effort  to  check  their  barbarous 
propensities,  he  marched  out  of  the  val 
ley  with  his  tory  confederates,  and  left  the 
settlement  to  the  mercy  of  his  savage  allies. 

The  Indians,  in  company  with  their 
squaws,  now  went  prowling  about  from 
house  to  house,  from  barn  to  henroost,  in 
search  of  plunder.  Nothing  escaped  them. 
They  tore  the  hunting -shirts  from  the 
men's  backs,  and  pulled  the  bonnets  from 
the  heads  of  the  women.  The  "  great 


chests"  were  ransacked,  and  the  stores  of 
household  linen,  so  dear  to  good  house 
wives,  carried  off  by  the  filthy  hands  of 
drunken  squaws.  The  ovens  were  robbed 
of  the  last  loaf,  before  the  wistful  eyes  of 
famishing  children.  They  seized  upon 
the  feather-beds,  flung  out  the  feathers, 
and,  cramming  in  their  plunder,  threw 
them  upon  the  horses  stolen  from  the  sta 
bles  ;  and  then  decking  themselves  in  ill- 
assorted  finery,  they  paraded  in  grotesque 
triumph  throughout  the  settlement.  The 
drunken,  -painted  squaw,  with  bonnets 
put  on  all  awry,  and  towering  three  deep 
upon  her  head,  with  a  bright  scarlet  cloak 
hanging  before  her,  a  terrific  wand  in  her 
hand  strung  with  bloody  scalps,  and  jolt 
ing  upon  some  sorry  nag  along  the  road, 
presented  a  horrid  picture,  }^et  so  gro 
tesque,  that  it  did  not  fail,  even  in  those 
hours  of  trouble,  to  raise  a  laugh  from  the 
suffering  spectators. 

Thus  the  savages  revelled  in  riot  and 
robbery  from  day  to  day  for  a  week,  un 
til  they  finally  set  fire  to  all  the  houses 
in  the  settlement,  and  gave  up  the  fields 
of  grain  to  the.  trampling  hoof  of  horse 
and  cattle.  The  inhabitants  fled  for  ref 
uge  to  the  fort,  where  they  remained  for 
a  fortnight,  living  upon  a  concealed  store 
of  provisions,  which  had  fortunately  es 
caped  the  observation  of  the  Indian  rob 
bers,  who  did  not  leave  "  a  hoof,  a  kernel, 
or  a  morsel  of  bread  or  meat,"  which  they 
could  either  carry  away  or  burn. 

As  their  provisions  were  being  rapidly 
exhausted,  as  all  hope  of  aid  from  beyond 
the  mountains  passed  away,  and  as  the 
savages  still  prowled  about,  and  peered 
into  the  very  embrasures  of  the  fort,  and 


HK  VOLUTION  ART.] 


DESOLATION  OF  WYOMING. 


657 


jeered  at  the  poor  wretches  huddled  to 
gether  with  the  cruel  threat,  "  Wild  In 
dians  come  soon  —  kill  Yankee  and  eat 
'em  !"  it  was  determined  to  abandon  the 
ill-fated  colony.  Their  work  of  devasta 
tion  .accomplished,  the  savages  returned 
to  their  homes,  having  burnt  every  dwel 
ling  but  a  few  near  the  fort  at  Wilkesbarre. 

A  general  exodus  of  the  survivors  now 
took  place.  Some  constructed  rude  boats, 
and  risked  their  all  upon  the  dangerous 
waters  of  the  Susquehanna;  some  few 
were  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  stray 
horse  or  a  pair  of  oxen,  while  the  greater 
portion  were  obliged  to  travel  their  wea 
ry  wny  on  foot.  With  a  scanty  supply 
of  provisions  to  begin  their  journey,  they 
had  exhausted  them  all  long  before  they 
reached  the  hospitable  homes  of  their 
countrymen  beyond  the  mountains.  In 
their  hunger  they  were  forced  to  feed 
themselves  on  the  twigs  and  roots  of  the 
sassafras  and  the  wild  berries  which  grew 
by  the  roadside.  Women  and  children 
sickened  and  died  by  the  way,  and  strong 
men  almost  gave  up  in  despair  when  they 
found  themselves  powerless  to  save  those 
they  loved. 

In  a  few  weeks,  however,  the  fugitives 
began  to  return,  in  order  to  secure  such 
of  their  crops  as  had  escaped  destruction. 
In  October  they  undertook  to  gather  the 
remains  of  their  comrades  who  had  fallen, 
and  to  give  them  decent  burial.  The 
weather  had  been  so  hot  and  dry,  that  the 
mutilated  corpses  were  shrivelled  up  and 
inoffensive.  They  could  be  recognised 
only  by  the  clothing  that  remained  upon 
them.  They  were  taken  up  with  pitch 
forks,  and  deposited  in  a  common  grave,- 
83 


which  remained  unmarked  for  more  than 
half  a  century.  At  last  a  granite  monu 
ment  was  erected  over  the  spot,  bearing 
appropriate  inscriptions,  and  recording 
the  names  of  those  who  fell  in  that  fatal 
battle. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  war,  Wy 
oming  was  harassed  by  prowling  bands 
of  Indians.  No  man  who  went  into  the 
fields  in  the  morning  had  any  security 
that  he  would  not  be  waylaid,  shot,  and 
scalped,  before  night.  Scarcely  a  month 
passed  which  was  not  marked  by  some 
murder  committed  by  the  marauding  sav 
ages. 

Thus  was  the  beautiful  vale  of  Wyo 
ming  made  desolate  by  a  savage  enemy. 
The  dark  morasses  of  the  Pocono  river, 
through  which  the  wretched  fugitives 
from  the  battle  fled  before  the  ruthless 
tomahawks  of  Butler's  pursuing  Indians 
now  received  the  fitting  appellation  of 
"Tlie  Slmdes  of  Death."  The  valley  had 
never  resembled  the  picture  which  Camp 
bell,  with  a  poet's  license,  had  painted  of 
its  earlier  days:  — 

"  Delightful  Wyoming  !  beneath  thy  skies 

The  happy  shepherd-swains  had  naught  to  do 
But  feed  their  flocks  on  green  declivities, 

Or  skim  perchance  thy  lake  with  light  canoe." 

In  these  later  times,  there  is  but  little 
hope  of  an  Arcadian  revival,  with  such 
unpastoral  elements  as  a  puffing  locomo 
tive,  a  smoky  furnace-chimney, or  a  board 
ed  factory.  Wyoming,  with  all  its  attrac 
tions,  will  ever  owe  more  to  the  genius 
of  the  poet  for  its  picturesque  reputation 
than  to  the  rich  bounty  of  Nature  or  the 
homely  virtues  of  its  inhabitants. 


658 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  n. 


CHAPTER    LXXIII. 

A  Timely  Escape. — Arrival  of  a  French  Fleet. — The  Count  D'Estaing. — Encampment  of  the  Americans. — Character  ot 
D'Estaing. — French  Hyberbole. — Arrival  of  the  French  Minister  and  the  American  Agent. — Admiral  Lord  Howe  on 
the  Move. — Spirit  of  the  British  Tars. — The  two  Fleets  in  Sight. — D'Estaing  prudently  sails  away. — He  arrives  at 
Newport. — Another  Chance  lost. — Expedition  against  Rhode  Island. — Active  Preparations  by  Washington. — John 
Hancock  in  Arms. — Plans  of  Attack. — Postponement. — Gallic:  Sensibility. — An  Apology  demanded. — Appearance  of 
Lord  Howe. — D'Estaing  sails  out  to  meet  Him. — Manoeuvres. — General  Sullivan  begins  the  Siege. — A  Terrible 
gtorm. — No  Appearance  of  D'Estaing. — He  arrives  at  Last. — The  Adventures  of  his  Fleet. — The  Storm. — Fight  with 
the  British. — A  Drawn  Battle. — D'Estaing  goes  to  Boston  to  refit. — Disappointment  of  the  Americans. — Quarrel  with 
Sullivan. — A  Satirical  Order. — Complaint  of  D'Estaing  to  Congress. — Lafayette  interposes. — The  British  Attack. — 
The  Americans  on  the  Defensive. — Retreat  of  Sullivan. — New  Bedford  laid  in  Ruins. 


1778, 


July  8, 


SIR  HENRY  CLINTON  with  his  army 
and  Admiral  Lord  Howe  with  his 
ships  had  escaped  just  in  time.  They 
had  left  Philadelphia  and  the  Delaware 
only  a  few  days  before  the  formidable 
French  fleet,  under  Count  D'Estaing,  ap 
peared  off  the  mouth  of  the  riv 
er.  The  voyage  from  Toulon,  pro 
longed  by  head  winds,  had  lasted  eighty- 
seven  days,  and  the  French  admiral  was 
thus  balked  of  his  purpose  of  caging  the 
English  earl  within  the  Delaware.  D'Es- 
taing's  fleet,  composed  of  twelve  ships-of- 
the-line  and  six  frigates,  and  having  on 
board,  in  addition  to  full  crews,  troops 
amounting  to  over  four  thousand  men, 
was  in  a  condition  to  have  effectually 
checked  the  movements  of  the  British,  if 
not,  with  the  co-operation  of  Washing 
ton's  army,  to  have  forced  both  Howe 
and  Clinton  to  terms. 

This  practical  demonstration  of  the  ad 
vantages  of  the  "French  alliance"  gave 
great  encouragement  to  the  Americans, 
and  they  warmly  welcomed  the  arrival 
of  D'Estaing.  His  personal  reputation 
was  not  such  as  to  be  particularly  assu 


ring,  or  the  reverse ;  but  the  substantial 
aid  be  brought  with  him,  in  the  shape  of 
great  ships  and  powerful  armaments,  to 
gether  with  thousands  of  men,  were  such 
accessions  of  strength,  that  for  the  first 
time  the  people  felt  that  they  had  such 
resources  at  command  as  to  remove  all 
dread  of  being  overwhelmed  by  the  ma 
terial  weight  and  wealth  of  the  powerful 
nation  against  which  they  were  bravely 
struggling. 

Count  CHARLES  HENRY  D'ESTAING,  the 
French  admiral,  was  a  native  of  the  prov 
ince  of  Auvergne,  and  had  acquired  some 
reflected  glory  while  serving  under  the 
great  Marshal  Saxe,  and  in  the  East  In 
dies  under  the  famous  native  Irishman 
and  naturalized  Frenchman  De  Lally. 
D'Estaing  had  somewhat  stained  his  gal 
lantry  by  breaking  his  parole  when  a  pris 
oner  in  the  hands  of  the  English  ;  but  his 
rank  and  family  influence  in  France  se 
cured  him  promotion,  and,  although  his 
early  career  had  been  in  the  army,  when 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  fleet 
now  sent  to  the  succor  of  the  American 
cause,  he  was  among  the  most  prominent 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


COUNT  CHARLES  HENRY  D'ESTAING. 


659 


of  the  French  naval  commanders.  On 
arriving  off  the  mouth  of  the  Delaware, 
he  immediately  sent  a  despatch  to  Wash 
ington,  which  was  characteristic  of  the 
man,  who  had  more  than  the  usual  Gallic 
fondness  for  hyberbole.  He  was  charged, 
he  said,  witli  the  glorious  task  of  giving 
his  allies,  the  United  States  of  America, 
the  most  striking  proofs  of  his  royal  mas 
ter's  affection.  His  happiness  in  perform 
ing  it  wras  enhanced,  he  declared,  by  the 
consideration  of  serving  with  General 
Washington,  whose  talents  and  ureat  ac- 

<— -  *  O 

tions  "  have  insured  him,  in  the  eyes  of 
all  Europe,  the  title  truly  sublime  of  De 
liverer  of  America" 

The  count,  disappointed  in  his  expecta 
tion  of  catching  Lord  Howe  in  the  Dela 
ware,  now  sent  a  small  vessel  to  convey 
to  Philadelphia  Monsieur  Gerard,  the  first 
minister  from  France,  and  the  recalled 
American  agent,  Silas  Deane,  who  had 
come  passengers  with  the  fleet,  and  then 
went  in  pursuit  of  his  lordship. 

In  the  meantime,  Admiral  Howe,  hav 
ing  heard  of  the  count's  arrival,  prepared 
to  receive  him.  The  British  lleet  was 
lying  within  Sandy  Hook,  and,  although 
it  was  small  compared  with  the  French 
(consisting  only  of  six  ships  of  sixty-four 
guns,  three  of  fifty,  two  of  forty,  and  a 
lew  small  frigates  and  sloops,  making  six 
hundred  and  fourteen  guns  in  all,  with 
which  to  oppose  D'Estaing's  eight  hun 
dred  and  fifty-four),  it  soon  showed  a  very 
vigorous  manifestation  of  resistance.  The 
spirit  of  the  English  sailors  was  aroused 
to  great  enthusiasm  by  the  prospect  of 
fighting  with  their  ancient  and  heredita 
ry  enemies.  D'Estaing  arrived  off  New 


York,  but  seemed  to  hesitate  about  ven 
turing  into  the  bav.  He  remained  at  an- 

»/ 

chor  for  eleven  days  off  Sandy  Hook  with 
his  formidable  fleet,  separated  only  by  a 
narrow  strip  of  sand  from  his  adversary. 
During  this  delay,  Lord  Howe  had  a  good 
opportunity  of  putting  his  ships  in  order 
and  recruiting  his  crews.  English  sea 
men  of  all  classes  readily  offered  their 
services.  A  thousand  volunteers  were  im 
mediately  despatched  from  the  transports 
to  serve  in  the  fleet;  others  were  daily 
coming  in,  and  among  them  masters  and 
mates,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  abandon 
their  traders  in  order  to  have  a  brush 
with  the  French.  So  many  officers  and 
soldiers  of  the  army  contended  eagerly 
to  serve  on  board  the  rnen-of-war  as  ma 
rines,  that  it  became  necessary  to  choose 
them  by  lot. 

Count  d'Estaing,  however,  had  doubts, 
strengthened  by  the  judgment  of  his  pi 
lots,  about  the  safety  of  carrying  his  large 
vessels  across  the  bar  ;  and,  after  his  lon<»; 

77  o 

delay,  he  weighed  anchor  and  set  sail  for 
Newport.  He  again  lost  the  chance  of  a 
success.  A  few  days  after  he  put  to  sea, 
several  British  men-of-war  arrived,  which 
belonged  to  Admiral  Byron's  fleet,  that 
had  been  scattered  in  a  storm.  Within 
a  week  after  D'Estaing's  departure,  no 
less  than  four  vessels,  each  one  singly, 
came  and  anchored  inside  of  the  Hook. 
They  were  so  damaged  by  the  severe 
weather  to  which  they  had  been  exposed, 
that  they  were  little  more  than  so  many 
wrecks,  and  were  so  incapable  of  resist 
ance,  that  they  would  have  struck  imme 
diately  had  they  encountered  the  French 
fleet  on  their  arrival.  To  add  to  D'Es- 


G60 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


tiling's  chagrin,  he  soon  learned  that,  a 
few  days  after  he  had  left  the  Delaware, 
a  large  convoy  of  ships  laden  with  pro 
visions  for  the  British  forces,  of  \vhich 
they  were  in  great  need,  had  entered  the 
river.  By  a  neglect  on  the  part  of  the 
British  ministry,  these  storeshipshad  been 
allowed  to  sail  for  Philadelphia,  although 
orders  to  evacuate  that  city  had  been  pre 
viously  sent  out.  Count  d'Estaing  de 
clared,  with  an  emphatic  sacre,  that  the 
English  had  the  devil's  own  luck. 

The  expedition  against  the  British  on 
Rhode  island,  which  was  now  undertaken 
by  the  French  fleet,  was  suggested  by 
Washington,  who  did  his  utmost,  by  an 
active  co-operation,  to  secure  a  successful 
result.  He  urged  General  Sullivan,  then 
in  command  at  Providence,  to  be  on  the 
alert,  and  make  all  possible  preparations 
by  land.  Militia  were  ordered  to  be  called 
out  from  New  England  to  reinforce  the 
regulars  in  the  proposed  enterprise,  and 
Washington  sent  additional  troops  from 
his  own  camp  in  New  Jersey.  These  lat 
ter,  with  their  officers,  as  far  as  possible, 
were  selected  from  those  who  were  con 
nected  with  New  England,  and  especially 
with  Rhode  Island,  in  order  that  to  the 
incentive  of  duty  there  might  be  added 
the  spur  of  interest.  The  Massachusetts 
and  Rhode  Island  brigades  of  Glover  and 
Varnum  were  accordingly  despatched; 
and  General  Greene,  a  Rhode-Islander,  al 
though  he  could  be  ill  spared,  as  he  was 
then  performing  the  important  functions 
of  quartermaster-general,  was  ordered  to 
take  command  of  one  division,  and  La 
fayette  of  the  other.  The  young  marquis 
had  been  selected  because  he  was  a  com 


patriot  of  D'Estaing,  and  it  was  thought 
his  presence  might  serve  to  regulate  and 
harmonize  the  naturally-discordant  com 
bination  of  Americans  with  the  French. 
General  Sullivan,  already  in  command  at 
Providence,  was  of  course  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  land-force,  which  soon  num 
bered  ten  thousand  men.  Such  was  the 
eagerness  to  co-operate  with  their  new 
allies,  and  their  confidence  of  a  triumph 
ant  success,  that  thousands  of  gentlemen- 
volunteers  had  thronged  in  from  Boston, 
Salem,  Newburyport,  and  Portsmouth,  to 
offer  their  services.  John  Hancock,  who 
had  retired  from  the  presidency  of  Con 
gress,  had  buckled  on  his  sword  and  led 
the  militia  of  Massachusetts  as  their  ma 
jor-general,  but  was  not  destined  to  gar 
ner  from  the  field  of  battle  any  fresh  lau 
rels  to  add  to  those  which  he  had  har 
vested  in  the  state. 

Count  D'Estaing  now  arrived  with  his 
formidable  fleet  off  Point  Judith, 
but  it  was  not  until  some  days 
after  that  he  moved  in  toward  the  har 
bor,  where  General  Sir  Robert  Pb-ott.  the 

'  O  / 

commander  of  the  British  forces,  made 
preparations  for  receiving  the  expected 
attack.  The  squadron,  consisting  of  four- 
frigates  and  several  smaller  vessels,  were 
burned  or  sunk  by  the  British;  and  Pigott 
withdrew  all  his  troops,  amounting  to  six 
thousand,  from  the  various  forts  scattered 
over  Rhode  island,  within  his  strong  in- 
trenchments,  about  three  miles  from  New 
port. 

D'Estaing,  having  concocted  with  Gen 
eral  Sullivan  the  plan  of  operations,  by 
which  the  former  was  to  push  into  the  har 
bor  with  his  fleet,  and  the  latter  should 


July  29, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       BRITISH  AND  FRENCH  FLEETS  OFF  RHODE  ISLAND. 


061 


August  8, 


cross  from  the  main  over  Seaconnet  chan 
nel  and  attack  the  British  intrenchments 
by  land,  was  prepared  to  begin  his  part, 
when  unfortunately  a  delay  took  place. 
Sullivan  sent  word  to  the  count  that  he 
was  not  ready,  in  consequence  of  the  non- 
arrival  of  some  expected  troops.  The  at 
tack  was  therefore  postponed  until  the 
10th  of  August. 

In  the  meantime,  the  French 
admiral  took  his  fleet  into  the 
harbor,  under  a  heavy  fire  from  the  Brit 
ish  batteries  (which,  however,  he  soon 
passed),  and  anchored  his  ships  above  the 
town.  General  Sullivan  had  also  moved 
forward  to  Tiverton,  ready  to  cross  Sea 
connet  channel  at  the  time  agreed  upon ; 
but  finding  on  arriving  there  in  the  night 
(August  8th),  that  the  works  on  the  op 
posite  side  had  been  abandoned  in  con 
sequence  of  the  withdrawal  by  the  British 
commander  of  all  his  troops  within  his  in 
trenchments  near  Newport,  he  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  of  crossing.  Early 
the  next  morning,  Sullivan  ac 
cordingly  threw  his  whole  force 
across  to  the  northern  part  of  Rhode  isl 
and,  on  which  Newport  is  situated,  and 
thus  made  this  movement  one  day  sooner 
than  had  been  agreed  upon  with  D'Es 
taing. 

The  French  admiral,  who  had  not  been 
informed  of  the  change  in  the  plan  of  op-- 
erations,  felt  highly  vexed  at  this  appa 
rent  want  of  respectful  consideration  for 
a  man  of  his  rank  and  dignity,  and  now 
refused  to  act  until  his  wounded  sensibil 
ity  was  relieved  by  an  explanation  or 
healed  by  an  apology.  While  the  irrita 
ble  Frenchman  was  undergoing  the  sooth- 


August  9. 


ing  process,  the  appearance  of  Admiral 
Lord  Howe  and  his  fleet  off  Newport  put 
a  sudden  stop  for  the  time  being  to  all 
thought  of  an  attack  upon  the  island,  and 
D'Estaing  concentrated  his  attentions  up 
on  his  naval  antagonist. 

As  soon  as  he  had  discovered  the  des 
tination  of  the  French,  Lord  Howe  hast 
ily  refitted  the  shattered  vessels  belong 
ing  to  Admiral  Byron's  squadron,  and 
with  his  fleet  thus  reinforced  sailed  from 
New  York  in  search  of  D'Estaing.  The 
wind  blew  directly  in  for  the  harbor  of 
Newport,  but  Earl  Howe  thought  it  more 
prudent  to  come  to  anchor  off  Point  Ju 
dith.  The  count  was  eager  to  try  his 
metal  with  his  lordship,  and,  considering 
his  arrival  a  challenge  to  an  encounter, 
he  determined  to  accept  it.  The  wind 
changing,  gave  D'Estaing  an  opportunity 
to  stand  out  with  all  his  fleet;  and  ac 
cordingly,  the  next  morning,  at 
an  early  hour,  he  sailed  out  of 
Newport  harbor,  sending  word  to  General 
Sullivan  before  he  left  that  on  his  return 
he  would  be  prepared  to  carry  out  the 
concerted  plan  against  the  British  on  the 
island. 

In  the  meantime,  Lord  Howe  wei«;hed 

o 

anchor  and  made  preparations  to  receive 
his  antagonist;  but,  not  willing  that  the 
latter  should  have  the  advantage  of  the 
weather-gage  of  him,  the  earl  tacked  and 
manoeuvred  his  fleet,  in  order  to  get  be 
tween  him  and  the  wind.  D'Estaing  was 
not  less  anxious  to  retain  his  position ; 
and  the  two  squadrons,  while  thus  trying 
to  outmanoeuvre  each  other,  ran  out  to 
sea,  and  out  of  sight  of  Rhode  island. 
General  Sullivan  had  already  advanced 


Aug.  10, 


662 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


All*,  12, 


from  the  northern  point  of  the  island, 
where  he  had  landed,  to  Quaker  hill,  about 
ten  miles  from  the  British  lines  near  New 
port  ;  and  when  he  heard  that  his  French 
ally,  instead  of  co-operating  with  him,  had 
gone  to  give  battle  to  Admiral  Howe,  he 
was  so  vexed,  that  he  determined  to  car 
ry  out  the  enterprise  without  waiting  for 
the  impracticable  Frenchman.  Lafayette, 
with  a  natural  sympathy  for  his  compa 
triot,  strongly  urged  Sullivan  not  to  be 
gin  operations  until  the  return  of  D'Es 
taing;  but  the  American  officers  were  all 
strenuously  in  favor  of  commencing  the 
siege  at  once,  without  waiting  for  the 
count,  whose  delays  and  punctilious  for 
malities  had  greatly  disgusted  them. 

The  siege  began ;  but  little 
progress  had  been  made,  howev 
er,  when  a  severe  storm  came  on,  which 
raged  with  the  violence  of  a  tropical  hur 
ricane,  blowing  down  the  tents,  damaging 
the  ammunition,  and  causing  the  death 
of  sa>me  of  the  soldiers  and  horses.  The 
storm  lasted  two  days.  On  the  third,  the 
sun  shone  brightly ;  and  the  troops,  al 
though  somewhat  dispirited  by  their  suf 
ferings,  prepared  themselves  to  continue 
the  siege.  A  day  having  been  spent  in 
drying  the  arms  and  ammunition,  and  re 
pairing  the  tents  torn  by  the  wind,  the 
soldiers  on  the  next  morning  marched 
to  Honeyman's  hill,  within  only  two  miles 
of  the  British  intrenchments.  Here  they 
took  post,  and  began  to  advance  against 
the  enemy's  works  by  regular  approach 
es.  The  men  for  some  time  kept  spirit 
edly  to  their  duty,  encouraged  by  the 
hourly  expectation  of  the  return  of  the 
French  fleet  to  their  aid.  When,  howev- 


Aug.  19. 


er,  they  waited  in  vain  day  after  day, 
they  became  discouraged.  At 
last,  the  camp  was  suddenly  en 
livened  by  the  appearance  of  D'Estaing 
and  his  ships  off  the  harbor,  whose  adven 
tures  during  his  absence  we  shall  now  re 
late. 

Lord  Howe,  having  been  unable,  with 
all  his  manoeuvring,  to  get  the  weather- 
guage  of  his  antagonist,  finally  hove  to, 
formed  his  ships  into  line  to  the  leeward, 
and  waited  for  the  French  fleet  to  bear 
down  upon  him.  D'Estaing,  doubtless, 
would  not  have  hesitated  to  accept  the 
challenge  ;  but  just  at  this  moment,  a  fu 
rious  storm  (the  same  which  had  pros 
trated  Sullivan's  \vhole  camp)  began  to 
rage.  The  vessels  of  both  fleets  were  at 
once  dispersed,  and  all  greatly  damaged. 
The  Languedoc,  of  ninety  guns,  Count 
D'Estaing's  flagship,  wras  dismasted,  and 
several  others  were  completely  disabled. 

On  the  third  day,  when  the 
storm  had  abated,  Admiral  Howe 
had  gathered  only  seven  of  his  scattered 
fleet,  but  he  was  still  disposed  for  the 
fight;  and  two  of  his  ships,  the  Renown 
and  the  Preston,  falling  in  with  the  dis 
masted  Languedoc  and  the  Tormat,  gave 
them  a  rough  handling,  and  would  have 
captured  them,  had  not  other  vessels  of 
the  French  come  to  their  rescue.  A  day 
or  two  subsequently,  chance  brought  to 
gether  two  other  ships  which  had  suffered 
less  in  the  storm  than  any  of  their  con 
sorts.  These  were  the  Isis,  of  fifty  guns, 
commanded  by  Captain  Rayner,  and  the 
C8esar,of  seventy-four, commanded  by  the 
renowned  De  Bougainville.  They  fought 
desperately  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  being 


Aug.  14, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COUNT  D'ESTAING  AND  GENERAL  SULLIVAN. 


663 


for  the  greater  part  of  that  lime  close 
alongside  of  each  other.  De  Bougainville, 
with  his  superior  weight  of  metal,  had 
borne  down  upon  the  Isis  with  confidence 
of  victory,  but  his  guns  were  overloaded 
and  badly  served.  Finding  his  antago 
nist  too  strong  for  him,  he  made  off'  be 
fore  the  wind,  with  his  deck  strewed  with 
seventy  men  killed  and  wounded.  The 
Isis  was  so  severely  damaged  in  her  masts 
and  rigging  as  to  be  unable  to  give  chase, 
although  her  crew  had  suffered  but  little 
—  one  man  only  having  been  killed  and 
three  wounded.  De  Bougainville  lost  an 
arm  and  an  eye. 

There  being  no  farther  disposition  for 
battle  between  the  shattered  fleets,  Lord 
Howe  bore  for  New  York  to  refit,  and 
D'Es tiling  returned  to  Newport,  and  was 
making  for  that  harbor,  when  his  sudden 
appearance,  as  we  have  seen,  enlivened 
General  Sullivan's  troops  with  the  pros 
pect  of  assistance  and  a  successful  result 
to  the  enterprise  in  which  they  were  en 
gaged.  As  soon  as  the  French  fleet  came 
to  anchor,  Generals  Greene  and  Lafayette 
pushed  off  to  visit  the  admiral.  They 
were  sadly  disappointed  to  find  that  he 
had  determined  to  sail  for  Boston,  in  or 
der  to  refit  his  damaged  vessels.  They 
entreated  him  not  to  desert  them  at  the 
very  crisis  of  the  enterprise,  when  the 
British  garrison  was  so  dispirited  by  its 
disappointment  in  not  receiving  supplies 
from  Earl  Howe  and  reinforcements  from 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  at  New  York,  that  it 
would  probably  surrender  at  the  mere 
sight  of  the  return  of  the  French  fleet  to 
the  harbor. 

D'Estaing,  however,  resisted  all  their 


entreaties,  declaring  that  he  was  disposed 
to  yield,  but  that  his  officers  unanimously 
insisted  upon  obedience  to  the  orders  of 
the  French  government,  which  had  di 
rected  that,  in  the  event  of  damage  to 
his  vessels,  he  should  put  into  Boston  for 
repairs.  Greene  and  Lafayette  returned 
to  the  camp  before  Newport  with  the  un 
welcome  intelligence.  General  Sullivan 
was  very  indignant,  and  sent  a  remon 
strance  to  the  French  admiral,  which  was 
signed  by  every  one  of  his  officers  except 
Lafayette.  In  this  paper,  Sullivan  pro 
tested  against  D'Estaing's  taking  the  fleet 
to  Boston,  as  derogatory  to  the  honor  of 
France,  contrary  to  the  intention  of  his 
most  Christian  majesty  Louis  XVI.  and 
the  interests  of  the  French  nation,  de 
structive  to  the  welfare  of  the  United 
States,  and  highly  injurious  to  the  alli 
ance  formed  between  the  two  nations. 
The  remonstrance,  however,  only  served 
to  offend  the  pride  of  the  French  admiral, 
and  not  to  alter  his  resolution.  He  sailed 
with  his  fleet  to  Boston. 

Sullivan,  who  was  fluent  with  his  pen, 
and  rather  prided  himself  upon  his  skill 
in  turning  a  period,  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  indulging  in  what  he  prob 
ably  supposed  was  a  very  delicately  ex 
pressed  bit  of  satire  ;  and  he  accordingly 
nrade  the  following  allusion  to  the  de 
parture  of  the  French  in  his  order  to  his 
troops:  uThe  general  can  not  help  la 
menting  the  sudden  and  unexpected  de 
parture  of  the  French  fleet,  as  he  finds  it 
has  a  tendency  to  discourage  some  who 
placed  great  dependence  upon  the  assist 
ance  of  it,  though  he  can  l>//  no  means  sup 
pose  the  anny  or  any  part  of  it  endangered 


CG4 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


by  this  movement.  He  yd  hopes  the  event  will 
prove  America  able  to  procure  that  by  her  men 
arms  which  her  allies  refuse  to  assist  in  obtain 
ing:' 

On  reaching  Boston,  D'Estaing  wrote 
to  Congress,  justifying  himself,  and  com 
plaining  of  the  remonstrance  of  the  Amer 
ican  officers,  and  Sullivan's  uncourteous 
allusion  quoted  above.  It  required  all 
the  prudence  of  Washington  and  the  con 
ciliatory  tact  of  Greene  to  prevent  this 
quarrel  from  putting  an  abrupt  termina 
tion  to  the  French  alliance.  The  old  anti- 
Callicnn  prejudice  which  the  Americans 
had  inherited  from  England  was  aroused 
to  such  an  extent,  that  the  French  officers 
in  Boston  were  hooted  in  the  streets  ;  and 
in  some  of  the  seaports  riots  occurred,  in 
which  French  and  American  sailors  came 
to  blows,  that  in  several  instances  proved 
fatal. 

General  Sullivan,  though  hopeless  of 
any  aid  from  D'Estaing,  continued  the 
siege  of  Newport.  Lafayette,  howrever, 
trusting  to  his  iniluence  as  a  fello\v-coun- 
trynien,  and  having  volunteered  to  pro 
ceed  to  Boston,  in  order  to  persuade  the 
French  admiral  to  return  to  Rhode  island, 
was  permitted  to  go.  The  young  mar 
quis,  nevertheless,  met  with  no  success 
beyond  an  offer  on  the  part  of  the  count, 
who  was  rather  more  of  a  soldier  than  a 
sailor,  to  march  by  land,  with  the  French 
troops  of  his  fleet,  to  the  succor  of  Sul 
livan. 

The  American  general,  however,  find 
ing  his  militia  deserting  him  by  whole 
regiments  at  a  time,  now  gave  up  all 
hopes  of  a  successful  siege  of  Newport, 
and  only  thought  of  means  of  escape. 


Aug.  29, 


His  chance  of  retreat  was  endangered  by 
the  diminution  of  his  force,  but  Sullivan 
extricated  himself  with  great  prudence 

and  skill.     Having  sent  off  his 

i  1-n  i        All»'  2G| 

heavy  artillery  and  baggage,  tie 

on  the  second  night  afterward  retired 
from  before  the  British  lines  toward  the 
north  end  of  the  island,  where  he  had  first 
landed.  Here  it  was  determined  to  for 
tify  the  camp,  and  aw^ait  the  result  of  the 
mission  of  Lafayette,  who  had  gone  off 
very  sanguine  of  its  success. 

Early  on  the  next  morning  after  the 
Americans  had  begun  to  retreat,  their  de 
parture  was  discovered  by  the 
British,  who  immediately  came 
out  in  pursuit  in  full  force.  Greene,  with 
the  regiments  of  Colonels  Livingston  and 
Laurens,  covered  the  American  rear,  and 
gallantly  kept  off  the  enemy  until  Sulli 
van  had  reached  the  northern  end  of  the 
island.  Here  the  troops  were  drawn  up 
in  order  of  battle.  The  British  continued 
to  advance.  Greene  proposed  that  the 
Americans  should  march  to  meet  them, 
as  he  believed  that  they  were  coming  on 
in  separate  detachments,  and  that  they 
might  be  advantageously  fought  in  detail. 

O  Q  */  O 

His  plan,  however,  was  rejected  as  being 
too  hazardous,  and  it  was  determined  to 
remain  on  the  defensive. 

The  enemy  were  now  close  at  hand. 
The  Americans  were  well  posted,  with 
two  redoubts  in  front  of  their  lines,  and 
waited  confidently  the  approach  of  the 
foe.  On  closing  in,  the  British  stationed 
themselves  on  Quaker  hill,  facing  the 
American  lines,  and  began  a  brisk  can 
nonade  from  their  batteries,  which  was 
well  returned  from  the  redoubts.  The 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         SULLIVAN  RETREATS.— BRITISH  DEVASTATIONS. 


665 


Aug.  30, 


enemy  now  attempted  to  turn  the  Amer 
ican  right,  in  command  of  Greene,  who 
gave  them  a  warm  reception,  and,  being 
reinforced  by  troops  from  the  centre  and 
left,  was  soon  enabled  not  only  to  defeat 
the  manoeuvre  of  the  British,  but  to  drive 
them  back  with  great  slaughter. 

On  the  following  day,  a  Brit 
ish  squadron  being  seen  off  the 
harbor,  General  Sullivan  determined  not 
to  linger  any  longer  upon  the  island.  As 
the  sentries  of  both  armies  were  only  four 
hundred  yards  apart,  the  greatest  caution 
was  necessary  lest  the  enemy  should  be 
come  aware  of  his  purpose,  and  interfere 
with  the  retreat.  The  night  was  accord 
ingly  selected;  and,  during  the  day  pre 
ceding,  tents  were  pitched,  and  the  men 
kept  at  work  on  the  intrenchments,  in  or 
der  to  make  it  appear  that  it  was  intend 
ed  to  remain  on  the  ground  and  resist  to 
the  last. 

The  night  came,  and  the  camp-fires  be 
ing  lighted,  Sullivan  began  his  retreat, 
without  exciting  the  suspicion  of  the  en 
emy.  It  was  near  midnight,  and  all  had 
been  nearly  accomplished,  when  Lafay 
ette  made  his  appearance,  having  ridden 
in  all  haste  from  Boston,  in  order  that  he 
might  share  in  the  engagement  which  he 
knew  to  be  imminent.  He  was  greatly 
mortified  that  lie  had  missed  the  light  of 
the  preceding  day.  He  arrived,  however, 
in  time  to  aid  in  the  retreat,  and  brought 
84 


off  the  pickets  and  covering-parties  in  ad 
mirable  order.  Not  a  man  was  left  be 
hind  on  the  island,  and  not  a  single  ar 
ticle  lost. 

General  Sullivan  had  retired  just  in 
time  from  Rhode  island ;  for  the  British 
ships,  of  which  he  had  caught  a  glimpse 
off  the  coast,  had  Sir  Henry  Clinton  on 
board,  with  about  four  thousand  troops. 
Finding  himself  a  day  too  late,  Sir  Henry 
put  to  sea  again,  for  New  York.  That 
his  enterprise,  however,  might  not  be 
without  some  result,  he,  on  leaving  his 
ships  at  New  London,  directed  General 
Sir  Charles  Grey  («  No-flint  Grey,"  as  he 
was  called,  from  his  fondness  for  the  bay 
onet)  to  proceed  to  New  Bedford  and  ef 
fect  as  much  damage  as  he  could.  Grey 
showed  his  usual  promptitude  in  devas 
tation,  and  laid  waste  an  immense  quan 
tity  of  American  property.  He  burned 
ships  (more  than  seventy  in  number), 
magazines,  stores,  wharves,  warehouses, 
vessels  on  the  stocks,  mills,  and  dwellings, 
amounting  in  value  to  hundreds  of  thou 
sands  of  dollars.  After  laying  New  Bed 
ford  in  ruins,  General  Grey  proceeded  to 
Martha's  Vineyard,  where,  after  destroy 
ing  a  few  vessels,  he  mulcted  the  inhabit 
ants,  by  a  compulsory  levy  of  arms,  of 
all  the  public  funds,  three  hundred  oxen, 
and  ten  thousand  sheep.  He  now  re-em 
barked  and  the  squadron  returned  to  New 
York,  laden  with  spoils. 


. 


66G 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


CHAPTER    LXXIV. 

The  American  Naval  Force. — Difficulties  and  Casualties. — Cruise  of  the  Raleigh  and  the  Alfred. — Cruise  of  the  Ranger. 
— John  Paul  Jones. — His  Life  and  Character. — His  Adventures. — A  "  Hard  Man." — Cruelty. — Abandons  his  Native 
Country. — His  Arrival  in  Virginia. — Command  of  an  American  Vessel. — Arrival  in  France. — Cruise  off  the  English 
Coast. — Attack  on  Whitehaven. — Raid  Upon  Lord  Selkirk. — The  Family  Plate. — Naval  Dignity. — Capture  of  the 
Drake. — Return  to  France. — Gallant  Exploit  of  Rathburne — Less  Glory. — Destruction  of  Vessels  in  the  Delaware.-— 
Captain  Barry.— The  Cruise  of  the  Raleigh.— Her  Fate.— Privateering. 


1778, 


THE  United  States  had  been  very 
unfortunate  in  their  early  attempts 
to  establish  a  naval  force.  The  possession 
of  New  York  and  Philadelphia  by  the  en 
emy,  and  their  command  of  the  Hudson 
and  the  Delaware,  had  led  to  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  principal  men-of-war  which 
had  been  built  by  the  Americans.  The 
few  small  vessels  which  had  succeeded  in 
getting  to  sea,  met  with  various  fortunes. 
The  Randolph,  a  thirty-two  gun  ship,  un 
der  the  command  of  Cap  tain  Nicholas  Bid- 
die,  a  spirited  young  officer,  had  blown 
up  while  in  action  with  a  British  vessel, 
the  Yarmouth,  off  Barbadoes.  The  Han 
cock,  also  of  thirty-two  guns,  commanded 
by  Captain  Manly,  after  a  successful  fight 
or  two,  finally  struck  to  a  superior  force, 
and  was  taken  as  a  prize,  by  the  British, 
into  Halifax.  The  Raleigh  and  the  Al 
fred,  commanded  by  Captain  Thompson, 
whose  gallantry  in  sailing  with  his  ship 
into  the  midst  of  a  whole  squadron  of 
the  enemy  we  have  already  had  occasion 
to  describe,  having  made  their  voyage  in 
safety  to  France,  now  sailed  on  their  re 
turn  to  America.  Their  course  was  kept 
well  to  the  south,  as  was  usual  in  those 
days,  in  order  to  escape  the  large  British 
cruisers,  and  to  pick  up  small  West-India 


traders.  They  had  been  several  weeks 
at  sea,  when  the  British  ships  Ariadne 
and  Ceres  hove  in  sight  and  gave  them 
chase.  The  Raleigh  was  considerably  in 
advance  of  her  escort,  and  escaped;  but 
the  Alfred,  being  overtaken,  and  finding 
it  useless  to  fight  with  the  'odds  of  two 
to  one  against  her,  struck. 

The  most  memorable  cruise  of  the  year 
was  that  of  the  Ranger,  an  eighteen-gun 
ship.  She  is  described  as  a  crank,  clum 
sy  vessel,  with  a  gun-deck,  but  no  arma 
ment  above,  and  a  dull  sailer.  Her  de 
fects,  however,  were  more  than  compen 
sated  by  the  excellent  nautical  qualities 
of  her  commander,  who  was  no  less  a  per 
sonage  than  the  famous  Paul  Jones,  "  a 
short,  thick,  lithe  fellow,  about  five  feet 
eight  inches  in  height,  and  of  a  dark, 
swarthy  complexion,"  as  he  is  described. 

JOHN  PAUL  was  born  on  the  Gth  of  July, 
1747,  at  Arbigland,  Selkirkshire,  on  the 
frith  of  Sol  way,  in  Scotland.  His  father 
was  the  gardener  of  a  Mr.  Craik,  a  gen 
tleman  of  property  in  that  neighborhood. 
The  son,  bred  up  on  the  seacoast,  natu 
rally  took  to  a  sailor's  life,  and  at  the  age 
of  twelve  years  readily  consented  to  be 
come  the  apprentice  of  a  shipmaster  in 
command  of  a  small  vessel  trading  with 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


JOHN  PAUL  JONES 


667 


the  American  colonies.  This  first  brought 
him  to  Virginia,  where  he  found  his  broth 
er,  married  and  settled,  and  from  whom 
he  acquired  an  inclination  toward  a  colo 
nial  life.  He  was,  however,  obliged  to  re 
turn,  but  did  not  remain  long  with  his 
master,  whose  bankruptcy  released  him 
from  his  indentures. 

Young  John  Paul's  next  transition  wras 
to  the  forecastle  of  a  slaver ;  and  subse 
quently,  by  the  death  of  the  captain  and 
mate,  to  the  quarter-deck,  as  commander. 
In  this  capacity  he  served  for  several 
years ;  and  it  may  be  supposed  that,  al 
though  he  was  in  a  good  school  for  the 
improvement  of  his  nautical  skill  and  the 
development  of  his  daring  qualities,  he 
was  not  likely  to  have  his  sensibilities 
refined. 

The  youthful  commander  was  already 
known  as  a  "  hard  man,"  and  not  seldom 
complaints  we  re  made  of  his  cruelty  by 
his  sailors.  On  one  occasion,  he  was  called 
to  account  before  a  court  in  the  West  In 
dies  by  Mungo  Maxwell,  one  of  his  crew, 
who  complained  of  ill  treatment.  The 
complaint  was  dismissed  as  frivolous  ;  but 
Mungo,  shipping  soon  after  in  another 
vessel,  died  suddenly  at  sea,  and  there 
were  not  wanting  people  to  blame  Cap 
tain  Paul  for  his  death.  This  created  a 
prejudice,  which,  together  with  the  ill  re 
pute  of  his  occupation,  clung  to  him  so 
tenaciously,  that  he  determined  to  leave 
his  native  country. 

In  1773,  his  brother  died,  and  John 
Paul  went  to  Virginia  to  settle.  There, 
changing  his  name  simultaneously  with 
his  life  and  country,  he  began  his  new 
career  as  JOHN  PAUL  JONES.  He  had  re 


solved  to  quit  the  sea  for  ever,  when  the 
Revolutionary  War  breaking  out,  he  be 
came  an  enthusiastic  American  patriot, 
and  was  appointed,  in  consequence  of  his 
well-known  abilities  as  a  seaman,  a  lieu 
tenant  in  the  navy.  His  first  cruise  was 
in  the  Alfred,  from  which  he  was  soon 
transferred  to  the  Providence  as  captain, 
and  again  in  a  short  time  promoted  to 
the  Ranger,  the  cruise  of  which  we  shall 
now  relate. 

Jones  had  gone  to  France,  with  the 
expectation  of  receiving  the  command  of 
the  Indien  ;  but  she  had  been  given,  pre 
vious  to  his  arrival,  as  a  present  to  King 
Louis  XVI.,  and  the  ambitious  young  cap 
tain  had  to  content  himself  with  the  Ran 
ger,  which  was  thought  quite  unworthy 
of  so  gallant  a  commander.  He  was  prom 
ised  a  better  ship,  but  he  had  not  the  pa 
tience  to  wait,  and  accordingly  put  into 
Brest,  to  refit  his  vessel  and  prepare  for 
a  cruise. 

Having  completed  her-  preparations, 
the  Ranger  sailed  for  the  Irish  channel, 
where  Jones  was  perfectly  "  at 
home,"  and  knew  almost  every 
foot  on  the  land  and  fathom  of  the  sea. 
As  he  passed  along  the  coast,  he  made 
several  prizes,  and  then  bore  away  for 
Whitehaven,  England,  with  the  intention 
of  burning  the  colliers  crowded  into  that 
port.  The  weather,  however,  was  unfa 
vorable  for  the  project,  and  he  sailed  to 
the  north  until  he  reached  the  coast  of 
Scotland,  where,  having  pursued  a  reve 
nue-vessel  without  success,  he  bore  aw7 ay 
for  Ireland.  While  off  Carrickfergus,  he 
observed  a  vessel  at  anchor  in  the  roads ; 
and  ha  vino-  learned  from  some  fishermen, 


April  10. 


668 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATtT    II. 


who  boarded  the  Ranger,  that  she  was 
the  Drake  sloop-of-war,  Jones  determined 
to  run  in  and  try  to  take  her. 

The  night  was  chosen  for  the  purpose  ; 
and  Jones  having,  daring  the  daylight,  ac 
curately  taken  the  hearings  of  the  Drake, 
now  in  the  dark  stood  for  the  roads  where 
she  was  anchored.  His  intention  was,  to 
brino;  his  vessel  close  to  the  bows  of  his 

o 

enemy  ;  but  the  anchor  was  not  let  go  in 
time,  and  she  drifted  astern  of  the  Drake. 
Jones,  finding  his  object  defeated,  ordered 
his  cable  to  be  cut;  and,  making  sail,  he 
hauled  his  ship  by  the  wind  in  all  haste. 
A  gale  coming  on,  he  barely  succeeded 
in  weathering  the  land,  and  getting  back 
into  the  channel. 

The  wind  now  being  favorable,  Captain 
Jones  determined  to  carry  out  his  design 
upon  Whitehaven.  The  Ranger  accord 
ingly  stood  for  the  Cumberland  coast,  on 
the  English  side  of  the  channel,  and  soon 
made  the  port  which  was  the  object  of 
attack,  and  out  of  which  the  captain  had 
often  sailed  in  his  early  days  when  a  tra 
ding-skipper.  He  waited  until  night,  and 
then  dividing -into  two  parties  as  many 
of  his  crew  as  could  be  spared  from  the 
ship,  lowered  his  boats  and  pulled  for  the 
shore.  As  he  was  familiar  with  the  ground, 
Jones  took  the  lead  in  command  of  one 
party,  and  his  lieutenant  Wallingford  fol 
lowed  in  charge  of  the  other.  The  forts 
were  seized,  the  guns  spiked,  and  the  sen 
tries  gagged  and  bound.  The  men  had 
been  provided  with  candles  in  lanterns, 
which  were  to  be  used  not  only  as  lights, 
but  as  torches  to  set  fire  to  the  shipping. 
There  was,  however,  some  delay,  and  the 
candles  had  sill  burned  out  when  they 


were  wanted  for  the  secondary  purpose. 
The  day  was  fast  approaching,  and  there 
was  but  little  time  to  spare.  The  lieu 
tenant  and  his  party,  therefore,  giving  up 
all  hope  of  success,  took  to  their  boat  and 
pulled  back  to  the  ship,  without  effecting 
anything. 

«/  o 

The  resolute  captain,  however,  was  not 
to  be  thus  balked  of  his  purpose.  So  he 
sent  one  of  his  men  to  a  neighboring  cot- 

o  O 

tage,  and  obtained  a  candle.  Thus  pro 
vided,  Jones  boarded  a  large  ship  in  the 
port,  and  with  a  barrel  of  tar  kindled  a 
fire  in  her  steerage,  and  soon  had  her  in 
flames.  As  the  tide  was  out,  and  the  ves 
sel  lay  high  and  dry  in  the  midst  of  a 
large  fleet  of  other  craft,  he  was  in  hopes 
that  they  would  all  take  fire,  and  his  ob 
ject  be  thus  effectually  accomplished.  The 
burning  ship  soon  alarmed  the  inhabit 
ants,  w ho  rushed  out  in  numbers,  crowd 
ing  the  adjacent  heights,  and  thronging 
to  the  rescue  of  the  shipping.  Jones  and 
his  party  still  remained  ashore,  and  with 
their  drawn  hangers  presenting  a  resolute 
attitude,  kept  back  the  people  till  it  was 
thought  that  the  ship  was  sufficiently  in 
flames  to  secure  a  general  conflagration, 
and  then  the  captain  drew  off  his  men  to 
their  boat,  and  pulled  back  for  the  Ran 


ker. 


The  inhabitants,  however,  succeeded  in 
extinguishing  the  fire  before  it  had  done 
much  harm  to  the  shipping ;  and,  recov 
ering  somewhat  from  their  panic,  they 
were  enabled  to  bring  a  gun  or  two  to 
bear  upon  Jones's  boat,  but  not  in  time 
to  reach  it  with  a  single  shot.  The  fright 

o  Q 

produced  by  this  audacious  attempt  was 
such  that,  even  to  this  day,  the  name  of 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


JONES  ON  THE  BRITISH  COAST. 


600 


PAUL  JONES  is  a  terror  nlong  the  whole 
English  coast. 

The  Ranger  now  stood  for  the  oppo 
site  shore  of  Solway  frith ;  and  Captain 
Jones  again  took  to  his  boats,  and  landed 
a  party  at  the  mouth  of  the  Dee,  near  to 
the  town  of  Kirkcudbright,  on  the  Scot 
tish  coast.  Jones  was  here  upon  his  na 
tive  soil,  and  knew  every  point  of  rock 
and  inch  of  ground.  He  at  once  led  his 
men  to  St.  Mary's  isle,  where  the  earl  of 
Selkirk  had  a  country-seat,  and  where 
Jones  is  said  to  have  lived  while  his  fa 
ther  was  in  his  lordship's  service.  The 
earl  and  his  family  were  absent,  and  the 
servants  left  in  charge  were  overpowered 
and  the  mansion  plundered.  One  of  the 
officers  brought  away  with  him  a  quanti 
ty  of  the  family  plate,  whereat  the  cap 
tain  was  greatly  indignant,  it  being  in  his 
opinion  an  act  quite  unbecoming  the  dig 
nity  of  a  naval  officer.  He  accordingly 
determined  to  restore  it,  and,  having  paid 
his  crew  out  of  his  own  pocket  the  sum 
of  a  hundred  pounds  sterling  (the  sup 
posed  value  of  the  plunder,  which  they 
claimed  as  their  prize),  he  sent  back  the 
plate,  with  a  courteous  note  to  the  count 
ess  of  Selkirk,  expressive  of  his  regret 
that  it  had  been  carried  off. 

Jones  fretted  to  think  that  the  Drake 
had  escaped  him,  and  it  was  a  point  of 
honor  with  him  to  make  another  attempt 
at  her  capture.  He  accordingly  sailed 
again  for  the  Irish  coast,  and  was  pleased 
to  find,  on  arriving  off"  Carrickfergus,  that 
the  Drake  still  lay  in  the  roads.  The 
saucy  Ranger  was  soon  observed  from  the 
English  man-of-war,  and  a  boat  sent  out 
to  discover  who  the  stranger  was.  and 


what  she  wanted.  As  soon  as  he  saw  the 
boat,  Jones  began  to  manoeuvre  his  ves 
sel  in  such  a  way,  that  only  her  stern 
could  be  seen.  The  British  officer  in  com 
mand  was  thus  induced  to  pull  alongside 
the  Ranger,  which  was  just  what  Jones 
wanted,  as  it  gave  him  the  opportunity, 
of  which  he  immediately  took  advantage, 
of  seizing  the  boat,  officer,  and  crew.  From 
his  prisoners  he  learned  that  intelligence 
of  the  Ranger's  audacious  proceedings  at 
Whitehaven  and  St. Mary's  isle  had  reach 
ed  Ireland,  and  that  the  commander  of 
the  Drake  was  on  the  alert. 

Jones  expected  that  the  detention  of 
the  boat  would  bring  the  Drake  herself 
out  in  search  of  it,  and  in  this  expecta 
tion  he  was  not  disappointed.  The  Eng 
lish  ship  immediately  got  under  way  in 
the  roads,  but  soon  lay  to,  waiting  for  the 
Ranger  to  come  on.  Jones, however, stood 
off  the  land,  in  order  to  draw  his  antago 
nist  more  into  the  channel.  The  Drake, 
observing  the  manoeuvre,  began  to  work 
out  of  the  roads;  but,  as  the  tide  was 
against  her,  she  moved  slowly,  and  did 
not  succeed  in  drawing  near  the  Ranker 

o  o 

until  almost  nightfall;  but  she  came  out 
defiantly,  with  her  decks  crowded  with 
volunteers,  eager  for  a  brush  with  "the 
American  privateer,"  and  accompanied  by 
a  number  of  small  craft  to  see  the  fight. 
As  soon  as  the  Drake  closed  in  suffi 
ciently,  she  hailed  her  antagonist,  and 
asked  her  name ;  which  she  received,  with 
a  challenge  to  come  on.  The  two  ships 
were  standing  on.  The  wind  was  light, 
and  such  as  to  admit  of  but  little  manoeu 
vring.  As  the  Drake  was  somewhat  to 

o 

leeward  and  astern,  the  Ranger  put  her 


i 


670 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


helm  up.  The  enemy  followed  suit,  when 
Jones  poured  in  his  first  broadside.  The 
two  vessels,  now  running  free  under  easy 
canvas,  continued  to  cannonade  each  oth 
er  for  an  hour  and  four  minutes,  when  the 
Drake,  hauling  down  her  ensign,  called 
for  quarter.  She  had  suffered  severely, 
her  hull  and  rigging  being  well  cut  up, 
her  captain  and  lieutenant  wounded  mor 
tally,  and  forty  of  her  crew  killed  or  dis 
abled.  The  Ranger,  although  carrying 
fewer  guns  and  a  smaller  crew,  suffered 
much  less  than  her  antagonist.  Lieuten 
ant  Wallingford  and  one  of  the  crew  were 
the  only  killed,  and  there  were  but  five 
wounded. 

Captain  Jones,  putting  a  crew  on  board 
his  prize,  and  securing  his  prisoners,  sailed 
away  triumphantly,  with  the  captured 
Drake  in  company,  for  France.  Pie  took 
the  North  channel,  and,  although  chased 
repeatedly  on  his  round-about 
passage  by  British  ships-of-war, 
succeeded  in  reaching  Brest  in  safety 
with  his  prize. 

A  gallant  little  exploit  was  achieved 
by  Captain  Rathburne,  in  command  of  the 
Providence,  a  twelve-gun  sloop.  Her  met 
al  was  only  of  the  weight  of  four-pound 
ers,  and  she  carried  a 'crew  of  but  fifty 
men.  Rathburne,  however,  with  his  little 
vessel,  bore  for  New  Providence,  one  of 
the  Bahamas,  and  lauded  on  the  island 
with  twenty-five  men.  Here  he  was  joined 
by  about  thirty  Americans,  who  were  held 
as  prisoners  by  the  British  authorities; 
and  with  this  small  force  her  took  posses 
sion  of  the  forts  and  stores,  and  in  fact  of 
the  whole  island.  The  vessels  in  the  har 
bor,  six  in  number,  among  which  there 


May  8, 


was  a  privateer  of  sixteen  guns,  fell  into 
his  hands.  The  inhabitants  attempted  to 
overpower  him,  but  Rathburne  kept  them 
in  check  by  threatening  to  set  fire  to  the 
town.  After  holding  the  place  for  two 
days  (during  which  a  British  sloop-of-war 
looked  into  the  harbor,  but  finding  the 
Americans  in  possession,  she  hurried  off 
again),  Rathburne  withdrew.  On  leav 
ing,  however,  he  spiked  all  the  guns  of 
the  fort,  burned  two  of  his  prizes,  and 
took  off  with  him  all  the  ammunition  and 
the  rest  of  the  vessels.  In  this  daring 
expedition  the  Americans  did  not  lose  a 
man.  The  very  audacity  of  the  enter 
prise  filled  the  enemy  with  such  terror, 
that  they  were  not  capable  of  striking  a 
blow  in  their  defence. 

A  less  glorious  fortune  than  that  of  the 
little  Providence  awaited  some  of  the  ves 
sels  lately  built.  The  Virginia,  a  twenty- 
eight  gun  ship,  had  just  been  launched, 
and  wras  proceeding  down  the  Chesapeake 
on  her  first  cruise,  in  command  of  Captain 
Nicholson,  when  she  got  aground  during 
the  night,  and  lost  her  rudder.  Her  an 
chor  was  let  go,  and  the  next  morning, 
as  preparations  were  being  made  to  refit 
her,  two  British  vessels-of-war  were  ob 
served  near  at  hand.  Captain  Nicholson 
now  thought  it  advisable  to  leave  her,  and 
went  ashore  with  his  papers,  while  the 
enemy  took  possession  of  his  ship.  Con 
gress,  after  investigating  the  conduct  of 
the  captain,  acquitted  him  of  all  blame, 
although  there  were  many  who  censured 
him  for  deserting  his  vessel. 

We  have  already  had  occasion,  in  speak 
ing  of  the  movements  of  the  British  while 
in  possession  of  Philadelphia,  to  allude  to 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         CRUISE  OF  CAPTAIN  BARRY  AND  THE  RALEIGH. 


671 


the  destruction  of  the  American  vessels 
on  the  Delaware.  It  is  appropriate  that  in 
this  chapter  we  should  narrate  the  facts 
more  in  detail. 

E;irly  in  May,  an  expedition,  headed 
by  Major  Maitland,  left  Philadelphia,  and 
ascended  the  Delaware,  in  order  to  de 
stroy  the  American  vessels  which  had  been 
taken  above  the  city  for  the  purpose  of 
escaping  the  British  men-of-war  below. 
To  the  land-force  of  a  battalion  of  light- 
infantry  and  two  fieldpieces  was  joined 
a  flotilla,  under  the  command  of  Captain 
Henry  of  the  British  navy,  consisting  of 
the  schooners  Viper  and  Pembroke,  the 
galleys  Hussar,  Cornwallis,  Ferret,  and 
Philadelphia, four  gun-boats,  and  eighteen 
flat-boats. 

The-  expedition  succeeded  in  its  pur 
pose,  without  the  least  show  of  resistance. 
Landing  a  little  above  Bristol,  the  enemy 
burnt  the  Washington,  of  thirty-two  guns, 
and  the  Effmgham,  of  twenty-eight,  both 
of  which,  being  new  ships,  had  never  been 
to  sea ;  also  several  privateers,  and  a  num 
ber  of  merchantmen.  Their  next  point 
was  Crosswise  creek,  where  the  Sturdy 
Beggar,  an  eighteen-gun  privateer,  and 
eight  other  vessels,  were  destroyed.  Six 
more  craft  were  set  fire  to  at  Bill's  island  ; 
and  on  descending  the  river,  on  their  re 
turn  to  Philadelphia,  the  British  burned 
as  many  more,  among  which  were  proba 
bly  the  Hornet,  the  Sachem,  the  Independ 
ence,  and  the  Musqueto,  as  nothing  is  re 
corded  of  them  after  that  period. 

Captain  Barry,  whose  spirited  capture 
of  the  enemy's  armed  storeships  in  the 
Delaware  has  already  been  described,  had 
soon  another  opportunity  of  distinguish 


ing  himself.  The  Raleigh  had  been  taken 
from  Captain  Thompson,  in  consequence 
of  his  having  allowed  his  consort  the  Al 
fred  to  be  captured  by  the  enemy  without 
going  to  her  assistance,  and  was  now  given 
to  Barry. 

"  Under  the  orders  of  this  new  com 
mander,"  says  Cooper,  of  whose  authority 
as  a  naval  historian  we  have  freely  availed 
ourselves,  "  the  Raleigh  sailed  from  Bos 
ton  on  the  25th  of  September,  at  six  in 
the  morning,  having  a  brig  and  a  sloop 
under  convoy.  The  wind  was  fresh  at 
northwest,  and  the  frigate  ran  off  north 
east.  At  twelve,  two  strange  sail  were 
seen  to  leeward,  distant  fifteen  or  sixteen 
miles.  Orders  were  given  to  the  convoy 
to  haul  nearer  to  the  wind,  and  to  crowd 
all  the  sail  it  could  carry,  the  strangers  in 
chase.  After  dark  the  Raleigh  lost  sight 
of  the  enemy,  as  by  this  time  the  two 
ships  were  ascertained  to  be,  and  the  wind 
became  light  and  variable. 

"  The  Raleigh  now  cleared  for  action, 
and  kept  her  people  at  quarters  all  night, 
having  tacked  toward  the  land.  In  the 
morning  it  proved  to  be  hazj7,  and  the 
strangers  were  not  to  be  seen.  The  Ra 
leigh  was  still  standing  toward  the  land, 
which  she  shortly  afterward  made  ahead, 
quite  near.  About  noon,  the  haze  clear 
ing  away,  the  enemy  were  seen  in  the 
southern  board,  and  to  windward,  crowd 
ing  sail  in  chase.  The  weather  became 
thick  again,  and  the  Raleigh  lost  sight  of 
her  two  pursuers,  when  she  hauled  off  to 
the  eastward. 

"  Finding  nothing  visible  at  six  in  the 
morning,  the  Raleigh  crowded  sail  once 
more,  and  stood  southeast  by  east.  At 


672 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


.  26, 


half-past  nine,  the  two  ships  were 

.      ,.  -,   • 

again  discovered  astern,  and  in 

chase.  The  Raleigh  now  hauled  close 
upon  a  wind,  heading  northwest,  with  her 
larboard  tacks  aboard.  The  enemy  also 
came  to  the  wind,  all  three  vessels  carry 
ing  hard  with  a  staggering  breeze.  The 
Raleigh  now  fairly  outsailed  the  stran 
gers,  running  eleven  knots  two  fathoms, 
on  a  dragged  bowline." 

Oo 

Unfortunately.,  at  noon  the  wind  mod 
erated,  when  the  leading  vessel  of  the  en 
emy  overhauled  the  Raleigh  quite  fast, 
and  even  the  ship  astern  held  way  with 
her.  At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the 
Raleigh  tacked  to  the  westward,  with  a 
view  to  discover  the  force  of  the  advanced 
vessel  in  pursuit;  while  at  the  same  time 
she  made  several  signals,  which  were  not 
recognised.  "  At  live  o'clock,  the  leading 
vessel  of  the  enemy  having  nearly  closed, 
the  Raleigh  edged  away  and  crossed  her 
forefoot,  b  railing  her  mizzen  and  taking 

/  O  O 

in  her  staysails."  In  passing,  the  Raleigh 
delivered  her  broadside,  which  was  re 
turned  by  her  antagonist,  who  set  the  St. 
George's  ensign,  and  showed  her  force, 
which  proved  to  be  a  battery  of  fourteen 
guns  of  a  side,  including  both  decks.  The 
Englishman  now  came  up  under  the  lee 
quarter  of  the  Raleigh,  and  the  two  were 
soon  warmly  engaged  ;  but  the  former, 
apparently  getting  the  worst  of  it,  shot 
ahead. 

The  Raleigh  having  lost  her  fore-top 
mast  and  mizzen-top-gallantmast.  her  crew 
were  busy  in  clearing  the  wreck  ;  and  an 
opportunity  was  thus  given  to  the  enemy 
to  get  to  the  windward,  and  fire  at  the 
disabled  vessel  from  a  distance.  The  Eu<>- 


lishman,  however,  soon  edged  away,  and 
made  an  attempt  to  rake  the  Raleigh ; 
when  Barry,  finding  that,  with  the  loss 
of  his  spars,  he  could  not  manoeuvre  his 
ship  as  he  had  done  before,  bore  up  and 
bringing  her  alongside  strove  to  board 
his  antagonist.  But  the  enemy,  having 
all  his  canvas,  and  sailing  best  in  the  light 
wind  then  blowing,  succeeded  in  defeat 
ing  the  American's  object. 

The  Englishman's  consort  now  draw 
ing  near,  Barry  called  a  council  of  his 
officers,  when,  as  in  the  crippled  condi 
tion  of  the  ship  there  was  no  chance  of 
escaping  by  flight,  it  was  determined  to 
run  her  ashore  upon  one  of  the  unknown 
islands  observed  early  in  the  afternoon, 
and  which  was  now  only  a  few  miles  dis 
tant.  The  Raleigh  therefore  wore  round, 
and  stood  directly  for  the  land,  with  her 
antagonist  close  to  her  side,  while  both 
ships  in  the'meantime  kept  up  a  brisk  fire. 
Thus  they  continued  till  midnight,  when 
the  Englishman  hauled  off,  for  fear  of 
grounding,  and  left  the  Raleigh  to  pursue 
her  dangerous  course  alone  among  the 
islands. 

Captain  Barry  now  began  to  bend  new 
sails,  with  the  hope  of  escaping,  as  he  was 
concealed  by  the  increasing  darkness  of 
the  night.  It  was  not  long,  however,  be 
fore  both  of  the  enemy's  ships  again  hove 
in  sight,  closing  fast.  The  Raleigh  wan 
driven  with  all  speed  right  on  the  land, 
firing  her  stern-guns  as  she  went,  which 

O  o  7 

kept  off  her  pursuers  awhile.  They  nev 
ertheless  soon  renewed  the  attack,  pour 
ing  in  their  shot,  which  Barry  gallantly 
returned  until  his  ship  struck  the  ground. 
The  enemy  hauled  oftj  to  avoid  a  similar 


MOVEMENTS  OF  WASHINGTON  UP  THE  HUDSON. 


673 


fate,  and,  taking  a  position  at  a  safe  dis 
tance  011  the  Raleigh's  quarter,  opened 
their  broadsides  upon  her.  Barry  now 
determined  to  land,  to  burn  his  ship,  and 
defend  the  island.  He  had  got  a  large 
portion  of  his  crew  ashore,  and  was  about 
returning  for  the  rest,  when  he  found  that 
the  Raleigh,  through  the  treachery  of  one 
of  his  officers,  had  struck  to  the  enemy ! 
Barry  and  his  men  escaped  from  the  isl 
and—which  proved  to  be  Wooden  Bell, 
one  of  the  group  of  rocky  islands  ott  the 
mouth  of  the  Penobscot — and  on  reach 
ing  the  mainland,  and  relating  the  ac 
count  of  their  struggle,  were  greatly  ap 
plauded  for  their  gallantry. 

The  Raleigh  was  immediately  taken 


possession  of  by  the  two  antagonist  ships, 
which  turned  out  to  be  the  Experiment, 
of  fifty  guns,  Captain  Wallace,  and  the 
Unicorn,  of  twenty-two.  It  was  the  latte 
which  clung  so  closely  and  so  obstinately 
to  the  Raleigh  during  the  long  engage 
ment.  She  was  well  cut  up  in  hull  and 
rigging,  and  had  ten  men  killed  and  a 
considerable  number  wounded.  The  en 
tire  loss  of  the  Americans  was  twenty- 
five  killed  and  wounded. 

Little  else,  beyond  what  has  been  nar 
rated  in  this  chapter,  was  done  or  suffered 
during  the  year  1778  by  the  navy  of  the 
United  States,  privateering  was,  howev 
er,  carried  on  with  great  spirit  and  suc 
cess. 


CHAPTER    LXXY. 

Washington  at  Wkite  Plains. — Strengthening  of  Forts  and  Highlands  of  the  North  River. — General  Putnam  at  West 
Point. — Small  Designs  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Attack  on  Egg  Harbor. — Washington  at  Fishkill.  — Lord  Comwallis 
plans  a  Surprise.-— General  Wayne  timely  warned. — Baylor  less  fortunate. — "No-Flint  Grey." — Yagers  caught. — 
Cruelty  of  Grey. — A  Worthy  Son,  Earl  Grey. —Devastation  at  Egg  Harhor. — Work  of  Death. — Indians  rooted  out. 
— A  Formidable  Expedition. — Suffering: — Return  from  Schoharie. — A  Salvo  of  Artillery. — Tories  and  Savages. — 
Butler  and  his  Rangers. — Cherry  Valley. — Massacre. — Cruel  Indians  and  Hardened  Partisans. — General  Sullivan 
sent  against  the  Indians. — Desolation. — A  Severe  Lesson. — The  Savage  less  formidable. 


1778. 


WASHINGTON,  after  moving  his  en 
campment  from  BrunswicK  to  Pa- 
ramus,  finally  quitted  New  Jersey,  and, 
crossing  the  Hudson,  took  post  at  White 
Plains,  in  Westchester  county,  New  York. 
Here  he  remained  until  September,  when 
he  made  a  different  disposition  of  his  ar 
my,  with  the  view  of  protecting  both  the 
Highlands  of  the  Hudson  and  New  Eng 
land, either  of  which  it  was  thought  might 
be  the  object  of  the  extensive  prepara- 
85 


tions  being  made  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
in  New  York.  Washington  accordingly 
strengthened  the  forts  on  the  North  river, 
and  posted  General  Putnam  with  two  bri 
gades  at  West  Point.  G  eneral  Gates  with 
three  brigades,  and  General  M'Dougall 
with  two,  were  despatched  to  D anbury, 
in  Connecticut;  while  Washington  him 
self  encamped  his  main  body  at  Freder- 
icksburg,  on  the  borders  of  Connecticut, 
and  about  thirty  miles  distant  from  West 


074 


BATTLES   OF  AMERICA. 


[FART  n. 


Point,  in  order  that  lie  might  be  in  readi 
ness  to  defend  either  the  Hudson  or  New 
England,  as  the  plans  of  the  enemy  should 
render  necessary. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  however,  did  not  ap 
pear  to  have  any  very  extensive  military 
designs,  and  contented  himself  with  ap- 

O        '  -1- 

parently  insignificant  forays.  He  now 
planned  an  attack  upon  Little  Egg  Har 
bor,  on  the  New-Jersey  coast,  where  the 
Americans  had  a  number  of  privateers 
and  prizes,  and  some  extensive  salt-works. 
But,  in  order  to  divert  the  attention  of 
Washington  from  his  object,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  procure  a  supply  of  forage 
and  fresh  provisions  for  his  troops,  the 
British  general-in-chief  sent  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  with  one  detachment  to  New  Jer 
sey,  and  General  Knyphausen  with  an 
other  to  the  cast  side  of  tlte  Hudson.  These 
two,  being  separated  only  by  the  river, 
and  well  supplied  with  boats,  were  able  to 
form  a  junction  within  twenty-four  hours 
and  thus  with  their  combined  troops  pre 
sent  a  very  formidable  force. 

Washington,  on  discovering  this  move 
ment,  believed  its  object  was  to  forage, 
and  therefore  sent  General  Wayne  with 
a  detachment  of  troops  to  aid  the  militia 
of  New  Jersey  in  checking  the  enemy. 
In  order,  however,  to  be  ready  for  any 
more  serious  attempt  which  might  be 
made  upon  the  forts  on  the  Hudson,  Put 
nam  was  directed  to  be  on  the  alert  nt 
West  Point,  and  Washington  himself  with 
a  division  of  his  army  marched  to  Fish- 
kill. 

General  Wayne  had  posted  himself  at 
New Tappan, with  the  militia;  but  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Baylor  had  taken  up  his 


quarters,  with  his  detachment  of  light- 
horse,  at  Old  Tappan,  near  the  enemy. 
Lord  Cornwallis  now  devised  a  scheme 
with  Knyphausen  for  surprising  the  en 
tire  American  force.  The  former  was  to 
send  a  detachment  to  take  the  Americans 
under  Wayne ;  while  the  latter  was  to 
throw  across  the  river  another  detach 
ment,  to  take  those  under  Baylor.  Some 
deserters  from  Knyphausen's  troops,  how 
ever,  having  gone  over  to  General  Wayne, 
gave  him  timely  warning,  by  which  he 
was  enabled  to  defeat  the  Hessians'  part 
in  the  scheme. 

Baylor  was  less  fortunate.  His  men, 
quite  unconscious  of  the  movement,  lay 
unguardedly  in  barns,  when.  General  Sir 
Charles  Grey,  who  had  been  despatched 
for  the  purpose  by  Lord  Cornwallis,  came 
suddenly  upon  them  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  Having  cutoff  the  sergeant's  pa 
trol  of  twelve  men  quickly,  the  enemy 
were  enabled  to  fall  upon  Baylor's  troop 
ers  while  they  were  asleep  and  unarmed. 
"No-Hint  Grey,"  with  his  usual  faith  in 
cold  steel,  ordered  his  men  to  take  the 
flints  out  of  their  muskets,  that  they  might 
be  confined  entirely  to  the  use  of  their 
bayonets.  They  thus  rushed  in  upon  the 
helpless  dragoons,  who, finding  themselves 
unable  to  strike  a  blow  in  their  defence, 
sued  for  quarter.  Little  quarter,  howev 
er,  was  given  ;  and  the  merciless  enemy 
were  thrusting  their  bayonets  wherever 
they  could  find  any  sign  of  life,  until  one 
of  the  British  officers,  less  ferocious  than 
his  commander,  interposed  and  saved  the 
lives  of  forty  prisoners.  Sixty-seven,  out 
of  the  one  hundred  and  four  of  Baylor's 
company,  were  either  killed,  wounded,  01 


taken.  Baylor  himself  escaped  with  a 
severe  but  not  a  dangerous  wound. 

"  It  was  a  small  compensation"  for  this 
affair,  as  Washington  said,  that  Colonel 
Butler,  three  or  four  days  subsequently, 
with  a  party  of  infantry  and  Major  Lee's 
light-horse,  surprised  about  a  hundred 
German  yagers  (riflemen)  below  Tarry- 
town,  killed  ten  on  the  spot,  and  took  a 
lieutenant  and  eighteen  men  prisoners. 

The  American  public  was  greatly  in 
dignant  at  the  cruelty  of  Grey,  and  did 
not  hesitate  to  term  his  action  a  cold 
blooded  massacre.  Grey  made  himself 
memorable  by  his  unsparing  cruelty,  but 
was  considered  so  efficient  a  servant  by 
those  who  employed  him,  that  he  was 
soon  after  raised  to  the  peerage,  as  a  re 
ward  for  his  military  services.  He  gave 
birth  to  Earl  Grey,  the  famous  whig  min 
ister,  who  was  as  firm  an  advocate  for  lib 
erty  as  his  father  was  a  rigid  executioner 
of  tyranny. 

The  expedition  to  Little  Egg  Harbor, 
on  iJie  eastern  coast  of  New  Jersey,  was 
in  the  meantime  in  full  progress. 
Captain  Ferguson  was  selected 
to  conduct  this  enterprise,  and  he  sailed 
from  New  York  with  three  hundred  reg 
ular  troops  and  a  number  of  New-Jersey 
royalists.  The  people  at  Egg  Harbor, 
having  heard  of  his  coming,  sent  out  to 
sea  such  of  the  privateers  as  could  be  got 
ready;  hauled  the  larger  vessels,  chieil'y 

»/     /  O  •/ 

prizes,  to  Chestnut  Neck,  about  twenty 
miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river;  and 
the  smaller  privateers  and  other  craft  still 
farther.  None  but  those  which  put  to 
sea,,  however,  escaped  the  insatiable  Fer 
guson.  On  reaching  Egg  Harbor,  and 


Oct.  8, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         BRITISH  EXPEDITION  TO  LITTLE  EGG  HARBOR.  C7f> 

not  being  able  to  enter  with  the  trans 
ports,  the  troops  took  to  the  boats,  and 
pushed  up  the  river  until  they  arrived  at 
Chestnut  Neck,  where  they  landed.  Here 
all  the  vessels,  shipyards,  store  and  dwel 
ling  houses,  and  salt-works,  were  burned. 
These  were  inglorious  enterprises  for  the 
Britons,  but  they  inflicted  great  injury 
upon  the  Americans,  and  especially  upon 
privateering,  which  had  become  a  very 
effective  though  independent  branch  of 
service.  The  purpose  of  the  enemy  was 
to  destroy  those  places  where  the  priva 
teers  were  chiefly  built,  fitted  out,  and 
supplied  for  sea, 

On  Ferguson's  return  to  the  ships,  he 
found  a  French  captain  and  several  pri 
vates,  who  had  deserted  from  Count  Pu- 
laski's  legion,  then  stationed  in  New  Jer 
sey.  They  gave  such  an  account  of  the 
careless  manner  in  which  three  troops  of 
horse  and  the  same  number  of  companies 
of  infantry  were  cantoned,  at  no  great  dis 
tance,  that  the  British  naval  and  military 
officers  made  up  their  minds  to  beat  up 
their  quarters.  The  ships  were  accord 
ingly  moved  along  the  coast  to  a  favora 
ble  point,  and  two  hundred  and 
fifty  men  embarked  in  boats.  Af 
ter  rowing  ten  miles,  the  troops  landed' 
and  took  possession  of  an  unguarded 
bridge,  to  which  they  were  directed  by 
the  deserters,  as  necessary  to  secure  their 
return  to  the  vessels.  Having  posted  a 
guard  at  the  bridge,  the  rest  of  the  men 
pushed  on.  After  a  short  march  in  the 
darkness  and  silence  of  the  night,  they 
came  suddenly  upon  Pulaski's  force  ;  and 
the  cruel  Ferguson,  as  ruthlessly  as  "No- 
flint  Grey,"  bayoneted  fifty  of  them  with- 


Oct.  15. 


GV8 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  n. 


Oct.  1. 


out  heeding  their  cries  for  quarter  !  Two 
French  officers  were  left  among  the  dead, 
Baron  de  Bos-e  and  Lieutenant  de  la  Bor- 
.lerie.  As  soon  as  Pulaski  was  aroused, 
he  brought  his  cavalry  to  the  rescue,  and 
the  enemy  were  thus  driven  away  from 
their  work  of  death. 

The  American  loyalists  and  their  sav 
age  confederates  the  Indians  had,  by  their 
ruthless  depredations,  excited  so  much  in 
dignation,  that  it  was  determined  to  at 
tack  them  in  their  haunts  and  root  them 
but.  Accordingly,  Colonel  William  But 
ler  set  out  from  Schoharie  coun 
ty.  New  York,  with  a  Pennsylva 
nia  regiment,  and  some  riflemen  and  ran- 

o 

gers  to  act  as  scouts.  [laving  gained  the 
head-waters  of  the  Delaware,  he  marched 
for  two  clays  along  its  banks,  and  then 
crossed  the  Alleghany  mountains  to  the 
Susquehanna.  The  journey  was  toilsome 
and  dangerous.  Each  man  carried  on  his 
back  provisions  for  six  days,  and,  thus 
loaded  down,  was  forced  to  wade  through 

7  o 

streams  and  to  swim  rivers.  As  the  sol 
diers  were  without  tents,  they  were  ex 
posed  to  the  heavy  rains  and  cold  nights 
of  that  autumnal  season.  They  reached 
their  destination,  however,  but  were  dis 
appointed  in  finding  that  the  Indians  and 
tory  settlers  had  by  flight  cheated  them 
of  their  revenge.  After  having  totally 
destroyed  every  Indian  fort  and  village, 
and  laid  waste  the  tory  settlements,  But 
ler  led  his  men  back. 

The  hardships  of  the  return  were  still 
more  formidable  than  those  of  the  ad 
vance  march.  The  smaller  streams  and 
the  Susquehanna  itself  had  become  great 
ly  swollen  by  the  heavy  rains.  The  pa 


triots  were  in  an  enemy's  country,  their 
provisions  were  nearly  consumed,  and  it 
seemed  impracticable  for  them  to  con 
tinue  their  journey.  Butler,  nevertheless, 
overcame  every  obstacle.  He  mounted 
his  men,  one  after  another,  upon  the  few 
horses  which  he  had  brought  with  him. 
and,  forcing  the  animals  to  swim  the  swol 
len*  waters,  succeeded  in  getting  them  all 
over  in  safety.  On  their  arrival  in  Scho 
harie,  they  were  so  overjoyed  at  reaching 
their  homes,  of  which  they  had  almost 
despaired,  that  they  gave  vent  to  their 
happiness  by  firing  thirteen  round  of  can 
non  and  a  feu  de  joie  of  musketry. 

The  tories  and  their  Indian  allies,  not 
withstanding,  continued  as  active  in  their 
cruelties  as  ever.  Walter  Butler  (the  son 
of  Colonel  John  Butler,  who  led  the  at 
tack  against  Wyoming  in  the  preceding 
July),  having  escaped  from  his  prison  at 
Albany,  where  his  neck  had  only  been 
saved  from  the  gallows  by  the  interposi 
tion  of  some  of  his  father's  friends,  was 
now  thirsting  for  revenge.  The  elder 
Butler  soon  gave  his  son  the  opportunity 
which  he  sought.  A  detachment  of  ran 
gers,  and  the  Indians  with  Brant  the  fa 
mous  Mohawk  chief  as  their  leader,  were 
placed  under  the  command  of  young  But 
ler,  to  carry  out  an  expedition  against  the 
settlers  of  Try  on  county. 

Walter  Butler,  eager  for  the  enterprise, 
hastened  from  Niagara  with  his  rangers. 
and  formed  a  junction  with  the  Indians 
at  Genesee.  Brant  disliked  young  But 
ler,  and  was  moreover  piqued  at  being 
obliged  to  serve  in  subjection  to  so  youth 
ful  a  leader.  He  was,  however,  finally 
prevailed  upon  to  join  the  expedition. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         SULLIVAN  DEVASTATES  THE  INDIAN  COUNTRY 


677 


which  now  numbered  a  combined  force 
of  seven  hundred  men. 

Cherry  Valley,  situated  near  the  head 
waters  of  the  eastern  branch  of  the  Sus- 
qnehanna,  within  the  state  of  New  York, 
was  the  chief  object  of  the  proposed  at 
tack,  as  it  was  the  most  thriving  of  all 
the  settlements.  Colonel  Ichabod  Alden, 
with  two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  was  in 
command  of  the  fort  called  by  his  name. 
Fort  Alden  was,  however,  merely  a  strong 
stone  dwelling-house,  which  had  been  for 
tified,  and  surrounded  with  rude  pickets 
and  earthen  embankments.  The  colonel 
had  been  duly  informed  of  the  approach 
of  his  barbarous  enemy,  but  he  gave  no 
heed  to  the  intelligence.  The  inhabit 
ants,  nevertheless,  were  greatly  alarmed, 
and  begged  that  they  and  their  most  val 
uable  property  might  be  received  within 
the  fort.  Alden,  ridiculing  their  fears,  re 
fused,  and  was  only  prevailed  upon  by 
their  earnest  entreaties  to  send  out  scouts 
to  gain  information,  and  to  keep  guard 
against  any  sudden  surprise. 

The  scouts  seem  to  have  shared  in  the 
confident  security  of  their  colonel ;  for, 
on  being  sent  out,  they  had  not  gone  far, 
when  they  lighted  a  fire,  and  laid  them 
selves  down  to  sleep.  The  enemy  caught 
them  napping  and  made  them  prisoners, 
and,  obtaining  from  them  the  intelligence 
which  they  wished,  pushed  on  and  took 
post  upon  a  wooded  hill  that  overlooked 
the  settlement  of  Cherry  Valley.  Here 
they  encamped  until  the  next  morning, 

when  they  rushed  into  the  vil- 
IVov,  10,    .  ... 

lageand  began  an  indiscriminate 

O  O 

slaughter  of  the  defenceless  innabitants. 
Whole  families  were  destroyed  by  the 


1779, 


savage  invaders.  Old  men.  women,  and 
children,  appealed  equally  in  vain  to  the 
cruel  instincts  of  the  Indian  and  the  still 
more  cruel  ferocity  of  the  hardened  par 
tisan. 

In  the  course  of  the  next  year,  Wash 
ington  determined  to  strike  a  de 
cisive  blow  against  the  Indians  in 
their  homes  and  haunts.  He  accordingly 
placed  a  considerable  body  of  continental 
troops  under  the  command  of  General 
Sullivan,  to  whom  was  soon  after  joined 
General  Clinton,  of  New  York,  with  one 
thousand  men.  The  Mohawks,  or  the  Six 
Nations*  as  they  were  termed,  were  the 
principal  objects  of  the  expedition.  These 
tribes  inhabited  the  fertile  tract  of  land 
lying  between  New  England,  the  middle 
states,  and  the  province  of  Canada.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  Revolutionary  War. 
they  had  pledged  themselves  to  neutrali 
ty,  but  soon  proved  faithless  to  their  word. 
The  Oneidas,  and  a  few  besides,  alone  re 
mained  faithful ;  while  the  rest,  won  over 
by  the  Johnsons  and  the  profuse  gifts  of 
the  British  agents,  became  hostile  to  the 

Americans,  and  destroved  their  lives  and 

./ 

property  on  every  occasion. 

The  Indians,  on  becoming  aware  of  the 
approach  of  the  Americans,  made  prepa- 

*  This  confederacy  of  Indians,  first  known  as  the  "Five 
Nations,"  was  composed  of  the  Scnecas,  Cayugas,  Oneidas, 
Oriondagas,  and  Mohawks;  but,  in  1713,  the  Tuscaroras, 
being  driven  out  of  the  Carolinas  by  the  whites,  migrated 
northward  and  joined  the  former  tribes,  who  were  thence 
called  the  "  Six  Nations."  After  Sullivan's  expedition,  a 
large  portion  of  them  moved  to  Canada  (from  which  coun 
try  they  appear  to  have  been  forced  southward  at  a  remote 
period  by  the  great  confederacy  of  the  Algonquins).  The 
warlike  Senccas  and  others  of  the  Six  Nations,  or  Iroqiiois, 
as  the  French  called  them,  in  their  migrations  spread  their 
deadly  hostility  to  the  American  whites  throughout  all  the 
tribes  of  the  Northwest. 


678 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


l_PAUT 


rations  to  meet  them.   They  concentrated 
their  forces,  selected  a  good  position,  and 
fortified  it  with  considerable  skill.     For 
two  hours  they  stood  their  ground  man 
fully  against  the  whole  of  Sullivan's  force, 
but  were  finally  compelled  to  give  way  j 
before  his  artillery.     The  savages,  once 
driven  from  their  stronghold,  made  not  ; 
an   effort   to  rally,  but  fled   in   despair.  | 
Sullivan's  avenging  troops  pursued  them 
closely,  and,  penetrating  into  the  heart  of 
their  country,  spread  desolation  every 
where.* 

"  Many  settlements,"  says  Bamsay,  "  in 
the  form  of  towns,  were  destroyed.  All  j 
their  fields  of  corn,  and  whatever  was  in 
a  state  of  cultivation,  underwent  the  same 
fate.  Scarcely  anything  in  the  form  of  a  | 
house  was  left  standing,  nor  was  an  In 
dian  to  be  seen.  To  the  surprise  of  the 
Americans,  they  found  the  lands  about 
the  Indian  towns  well  cultivated, and  their 
houses  both  large  and  commodious.  The 
quantity  of  corn  destroyed  was  immense.^ 
Orchards,  in  which  were  several  hundred 
fruit-trees,  were  cut  down  ;  and  of  them 
many  appeared  to  have  been  planted  for 
a  long  series  of  years.  Their  gardens, 
replenished  with  a  variety  of  useful  ve 
getables,  were  laid  waste. J 

*  Tliis  region  of  country,  then  known  as  Tryon  countv, 
hut  now  comprising  Chemung  and  other  counties,  received, 
from  the  cruel  devastations  and  massacres  of  the  savages, 
the  appellation  of  The  Dark  and  Blood;/  Ground. 

\  It  was  estimated  that  not  less  than  a  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  hushels  of  corn  in  the  granaries  and  fields  were 
thus  destroyed.  In  one  fortnight  tin's  beautiful  country  was 
cast  hack  a  century  in  its  progress  toward  civilization. 

J  Washington,  who  had  conceived  amV  planned  this  most 
righteous  expedition,  and  ordered  its  rigid  execution  in  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  performed,  received  from  the  sav- 
nges  the  name  of  An-nn-ta-kau-lcs,  wtiich  signifies,  in  the 
Seneca  language,  trwn-drst.roi/i'r.  At  a  council  held  in  Phil 
adelphia,  iw  1702,  Corn-Planter,  the  distinguished  Seneca 


"  The  Americans  were  so  full  of  resent 
ment  against  the  Indians  for  the  many  out 
rages  they  had  suffered  from  them,  and  so 
bent  on  making  the  expedition  decisive, 
that  the  officers  and  soldiers  cheerfully 
agreed  to  remain  till  they  had  fully  com 
pleted  the  destruction  of  the  settlement. 
The  supplies  obtained  in  the  country  les 
sened  the  inconvenience  of  short  rations. 
The  ears  of  corn  were  so  remarkably 
large,  that  many  of  them  measured  twen 
ty-two  inches  in  length."  Necessity  suo;- 

*/  o  »/  o 

gested  a  novel  method  of  grinding  the 
grains.  The  soldiers  thrust  their  bayo 
nets  through  the  camp-kettles,  and  thus 
produced  a  rough  surface  upon  which 
they  rubbed  the  corn  into  a  coarse  meal. 
This  severe  lesson  had  its  effect  upon 
the  Indians,  who  became  thenceforward 
less  bold  in  their  cruelties  and  depreda 
tions.  The  frontiers  now  enjoyed  com 
parative  security  from  the  incursions  of 
the  savages.  Brant  and  his  tory  confed 
erates  still  fostered  their  wolfish  propen 
sities  in  their  lair  at  Niagara,  and  would 
occasionally  find  an  opportunity  to  glut 
them  in  the  blood  and  spoils  of  the  un 
guarded  settlers.  These  occasions,  how 
ever,  after  General  Sullivan's  successful 
raid  became  known,  were  availed  of  with 

chief,  thus  addressed  President  Washington:  "FATHER  — 
The  voice  of  the  Seneca  nation  speaks  to  yon,  the  great 
counsellor,  in  whose  heart  the  wise  men  of  all  the  thirteen 
fires  have  placed  their  wisdom.  It  may  be  very  small  in 
vour  ears,  and  therefore  we  entreat  you  to  hearken  with  at 
tention,  for  we  arc  about  to  speak  to  yon  of  things  which  to 
us  arc  very  great.  When  your  army  entered  the  country  of 
the  Six  Nations,  we  called  you  Tlic.  Town- Destroy  er ;  and  to 
this  dav,  when  that  name  is  heard,  our  wcrn.cn  look  behind 
them  and  turn  pale,  and  our  children  cling  close  tc  the  necks 
of  their  mothers.  Our  counsellors  and  warriors  are  men, 
and  can  not  be  afraid  ;  but  their  hearts  are  grieved  with  the 
fears  of  our  women  and  children,  and  desire  that  it  may  ho 
buried  so  deep  that  it  may  be  heard  no  more,." 


•EVOLUTIONARY.]         LAFAYETTE  PLANS  THE  CONQUEST  OF  CANADA. 


679 


less  frequency  and  more  timid  caution. 
Nevertheless,  Brant,  with  sixty  of  his  sav 
ages  and  twenty-seven  white  men  attack 
ed  the  Mininsink  settlement  du- 
July  23,  .  /i^n\ 

ring  the  same  summer  (1779), 

and  burnt  ten  houses,  twelve  barns,  a  fort, 
and  two  mills.  He  moreover  carried  off 
several  prisoners  and  a  large  quantity  of 
plunder.  The  neighboring  militia  gath 
ered  together  and  went  in  pursuit,  but 
were  driven  back  by  the  Indians. 


In  South  Carolina,  Generals  William 
son  and  Pickens  carried  out  an  expedi 
tion  like  that  of  Sullivan,  and  with  simi 
lar  success.  The  villages  and  harvests  of 
the  savages  were  destroyed,  and  they 
themselves  forced  to  fly  beyond  the  fron 
tiers.  Colonel  Broadhead,  too,  was  equal 
ly  successful  in  Pennsylvania.  The  In 
dians  from  this  time  became  much  less 
formidable,  although  we  shall  yet  have 
an  occasional  atrocity  to  record. 


CHAPTER   LXXVI. 

Lafayette  in  a  "  Cul  de  Sac." — A  Brilliant  Flight. — Cheeked  by  Washington. — Return  of  Lafayette  to  France. — Tlio 
Ship  Alliance. — The  Voyage. — A  Conspiracy. — Its  Terrible  Objects. — The  Disclosure. — The  Conspiracy  put  down. 
— An  Enemy  avoided. — Arrival  at  Brest. — Lafayette  in  High  Favor. — A  Formal  and  Royal  Rebuke. — His  Reception 
by  Queen  Marie  Antoinette. — Commander  of  the  King's  Guard. — Washington's  Winter-Quarters. — Disposition  of  tho 
Troops. — Hutting. — Washington  visits  Philadelphia. — General  Putnam  in  Trouble  with  his  Troops. — A  Rebellion 
quelled. — Jollity  in  the  Camp. — A  Christmas  Dinner. — A  Holyday. — A  "  Splendid  Entertainment." — Hospitality  at 
Headquarters. — Colonel  Hamilton  at  the  Dinner-Table. — Visit  of  Monsieur  Gerard. — A  Grand  Review. — Native  Gen 
tlemen. — General  Gayetv. — An  Occasional  Duel. — Affection  under  the  Gallows. 


1778, 


LAFAVETTE,  while  shut  up  in  a  cul 
de  sac,  as  he  termed  it,  at  Bristol,  on 
a  neck  of  land,  with  a  bay  on  the  one  side 
arid  a  river  on  the  other  (where  General 
Sullivan  had  placed  him,  after  the  retreat 
from  Rhode  island,  to  watch  the  motions 
of  the  British),  plumed  his  wings  for  a 
broader  flight.  He  had  conceived  a  bril 
liant  plan  for  an  expedition  against  Can 
ada.  He  would  obtain  from  his  sovereign, 
Louis  XVI.,  a  large  army  and  a  powerful 
ileet,  to  reduce  Halifax  and  Quebec,  while 
the  Americans  should  co-operate  by  the 
lakes,  and  thus  wrest  every  spot  of  earth 
in  North  America  from  British  possession. 
Congress  seemed  to  sanction  the  scheme  ; 


but  Washington,  who,  with  every  trust  in 
the  disinterestedness  of  the  ardent  young 
marquis,  placed  little  faith  in  that  of  his 
country,  defeated  the  wild  and  dangerous 
enterprise  by  his  cautious  counsels. 

Lafayette  proposed  to  return  to  France, 
but  had  postponed  his  voyage  for  the  pur 
pose  of  furthering  his  Canadian  project. 
"If  you  have  entertained  thoughts,  my 
dear  marquis,"  quietly  remarks  Washing 
ton,  '-'of  paying  a,  visit  to  your  court,  to 
your  lady,  and  to  your  friends,  this  win 
ter,  but  waver  on  account  of  an  expedi 
tion  into  Canada,  friendship  induces  me 
to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  conceive  that 
the  prospect  of  such  an  operation  is  so 


080 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


favorable  at  this  time  as  to  cause  you  to 
change  your  views."  Lafayette  now  pre 
pared  to  go  home,  and  would  have  imme 
diately  set  sail,  but  was  detained  by  a  se 
vere  illness. 

The  finest  frigate  in  the  embryo  navy 
of  the  United  States,  the  Alliance,  was  or 
dered  to  convey  the  young  marquis  to 
France.  On  his  recovery,  he  proceeded 
to  Boston  to  embark,  but  found  the  ship 
not  yet  manned.  The  government  of 
Massachusetts  went  so  far  in  its  courtesy 
to  its  distinguished  visiter  as  to  offer  to 
obtain  a  crew  by  impressment.  This  was, 
however,  an  encroachment  upon  the  rights 
of  man  to  which  the  young  French  disci 
ple  of  freedom  most  positively  objected. 
Recourse  was  therefore  had,  in  manning 
the  Alliance,  to  a  number  of  British  sail 
ors,  some  prisoners, and  a  few  Frenchmen, 
who  were  taken  indiscriminately  from  the 
docks  of  Boston. 

The  captain  of  the  Alliance  was  Lan- 
dais,  a  Frenchman  and  a  gallant  officer, 
to  whom  the  command  had  been  given 
as  a  compliment  to  France,  whose  friend 
ship  every  effort  was  at  that  time  made  to 
strengthen,  and  to  which  the  very  name 
of  the  ship  was  a  tribute.  The  prejudice 
against  serving  under  a  Frenchman  was, 
however,  one  of  the  chief  difficulties  in 
manning  the  Alliance  with  American  sail 
ors,  and  forced  Landais  to  content  him 
self  with  a  motley  crew,  of  all  countries 
and  characters. 

With  this  difficulty  about  a  crew,  the 
Alliance  did  not  finally  get^to  sea  until 

Jan  II     tlie  Beginning  oi>  tne  Jear  1779. 

The  passage  was  boisterous,  and 

the  frigate  lost  a  topmast  and  sprang  a 


leak ;  and,  when  she  had  got  within  two 
days'  sail  of  the  English  coast,  a  conspi 
racy  was  discovered  among  the  crew  by 
one  of  the  sailors,  who  was  an  American 
by  birth,  but,  having  lived  a  long  time  in 
Ireland,  was  supposed  by  his  English  ship 
mates  to  be  an  Irishman,  and  therefore 
taken  by  them  into  their  confidence.  It 
was  not,  however,  until  the  morning  of 
the  very  day  for  carrying  their  plans  into 
execution,  that  the  conspirators  disclosed 
them  to  the  American  sailor.  He  pre 
tended  to  enter  into  (heir  views  with  his 
whole  heart,  and  thus  got  from  them  ev 
ery  detail.  He  watched  his  opportunity 
to  convey  the  intelligence  to  the  captain, 
but  was  not  able  to  do  so  until  some  time 
after  three  in  the  afternoon,  although  the 
hour  appointed  for  carrying  out  the  plot 
was  four  o'clock. 

According  to  this  American  sailor's  ac 
count,  the  conspirators  were  mainly  com 
posed  of  Englishmen,  and  their  purpose 
was  bloody  and  determined.  By  the  ori 
ginal  plan,  the  cry  of  "  Sail  ho  !"  was  to 
be  raised  about  daylight,  which  it  was 
supposed  would  bring  all  the  officers  and 
passengers  (of  whom  there  were  several 
besides  Lafayette)  on  deck,  when  it  was 
intended  to  seize  them.  The  mutineers 
had  divided  themselves  into  four  parties, 
of  which  one  was  to  get  possession  of  the 
magazine,  the  second  of  the  wardroom, 
the  third  of  the  cabin,  and  the  fourth  of 
the  upper  deck  aft.  In  case  the  officers 
should  resist,  the  four  nine-pound  guns 
on  the  forecastle  (which  one  of  the  muti 
neers,  a  gunner's  mate,  had  secretly  load 
ed  with  canister)  were  to  be  pointed  aft, 
and  thus  sweep  the  quarter-deck.  A  ser- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LAFAYETTE'S  RECEPTION  IN  FRANCE. 


681 


geant  of  marines,  who  was  also  one  of  the 
party,  had  privately  distributed  firearms 
and  side-weapons  among  his  associates. 

The  officers,  passengers,  and  those  who 
were  in  the  interest  of  the  ship,  were  sev 
erally  to  be  dealt  with  as  follows :  Cap 
tain  Landais,  who  was  particularly  odious, 
was  to  be  heavily  ironed,  and  sent  adrift 
on  the  sea,  in  a  boat,  without  food,  water, 
oars,  sails,  or  compass.  The  marine  offi 
cer  and  the  surgeon  were  to  be  hanged 
and  quartered.  The  gunner,  carpenter, 
and  boatswain,  were  to  be  killed  on  the 
spot.  The  sailing-master  was  to  be  seized, 
hanged  up  to  the  niizzen-mast,  scarified, 
cut  into  morsels,  and  thrown  overboard. 
To  each  of  the  two  lieutenants  was  to  be 
offered  the  choice  of  either  navigating  the 
ship  into  the  nearest  British  port  or  of 
*'  walking  the  plank."  The  passengers 
were  to  be  more  humanely  treated,  as  it 
was  intended  only  to  iron  them  and  de 
liver  them  up  in  England  as  prisoners. 
This  diabolical  conspiracy  was,  however, 
thwarted  by  the  disclosure  of  the  Ameri 
can  sailor. 

Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost;  and  ac 
cordingly,  Captain  Landais, having  armed 
his  officers  and  passengers, rushed  up  with 
them  in  a  body  on  deck  just  in  time  to 
seize  the  ringleaders  of  the  mutiny  before 
the  signal  was  given  for  the  beginning 
of  operations.  Thirty  or  forty  English 
sailors  were  put  in  irons;  but,  as  at  this 
moment  a  twenty-gun  ship  of  the  enemy 
hove  in  sight,  it  was  thought  imprudent 
to  arrest  any  more.  Landais,  with  most 
of  his  crew  in  a  state  of  mutiny,  did  riot 
care  to  show  fight,  and  therefore  so  ma 
noeuvred  as  to  avoid  an  engagement,  and, 
80 


Feb.  6. 


crowding  on  sail,  made  his  way 
with  all  haste  to  the  harbor  of 
Brest,  where  the  Alliance  arrived  after  a 
short  passage.* 

The  young  marquis  was  greeted  on  his 
arrival  with  great  applause.  "I  had  the 
honor,"  he  wrote,  "  of  being  consulted  by 
all  the  ministers,  and,  what  was  far  better, 
embraced  by  all  the  ladies.  Those  em 
braces  lasted  but  one  day ;  but  I  retained 
for  a  greater  length  of  time  the  confidence 
of  the  cabinet,  and  I  enjoyed  both  favor 
at  the  court  of  Versailles  and  popularity 
at  Paris.  I  was  the  theme  of  conversa 
tion  in  every  circle." 

Louis  XVI.  deemed  it  necessary  to  vin 
dicate  his  authority  by  the  formality  of  a 
rebuke  to  the  young  marquis  for  his  for 
mer  disobedience  in  leaving  the  country 
contrary  to  orders ;  but,  with  wonderful 
French  tact,  his  majesty  contrived  to 
sweeten  his  censure  with  a  compliment. 
Lafayette  was  forbidden  to  quit  Paris  for 
some  days,  and  told  to  avoid  those  places 
in  which  the  public  "might  consecrate 
his  disobedience  by  their  loud  applause." 
Queen  Marie  Antoinette,  then  in  all  the 
pride  of  her  youthful  beauty,  and  with  no 
dread  of  days  of  terror,  received  the  rev 
olutionary  hero  with  every  mark  of  favor. 
Through  her  intercession,  Lafayette  was 
given  the  command  of  the  dragoons  of 
the  king's  guard;  and  this  young  enthu 
siast  of  liberty  was  warmed  in  the  very 
bosom  of  despotism. 

In  the  beginning  of  December,  Wash 
ington  disposed  his  army  in  its  winter 
quarters.  The  troops  under  Gen 
eral  Putnam  were  stationed  at  Dan- 


1778, 


*  c 


oopcr. 


682 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


bury,  in  Connecticut;  those  under  Gen 
eral  M'Dougall,  in  the  Highlands  of  the 
Hudson ;  and  the  main  body,  under  the 
commander-in-chief,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Middlebrook,  in  New  Jersey.  Here 
the  old  expedient  of  hutting  was  resort 
ed  to ;  but,  as  the  soldiers  were  better 
clothed,  and  as  it  was  hoped  that  they 
would  be  better  provisioned,  the  prospect 
was  more  promising  at  Middlebrook  than 
during  the  previous  year  at  Valley  Forge. 

Washington  was  urged  to  pass  the  win 
ter,  with  his  wife,  at  Philadelphia,  where 
General  Arnold  was  in  command,  and 
where  Joseph  Reed,  now  president  of 
Pennsylvania,  dwelt.  "  Were  I  to  give 
in  to  private  conveniency  and  amuse 
ment,"  he  wrote  in  answer,  "  I  should  not 
be  able  to  resist  the  invitation  of  my 
friends  to  make  Philadelphia,  instead  of 
a  squeezed-up  room  or  two,  my  quarters 
for  the  winter.  But  the  affairs  of  the 
army  require  my  constant  attention  and 
presence,  and,  circumstanced  as  matters 
are  at  this  time,  call  for  some  degree  of 
care  and  address  to  keep  it  from  crum 
bling." 

The  commander-in-chief,  however,  vis 
ited  Philadelphia  during  the  winter,  where 
Congress  had  been  in  session  since  the 
evacuation  of  the  city  by  the  British  in 
the  previous  May.  His  object  was  to  con 
fer  with  the  members  of  the  government 
in  regard  to  the  coming  campaign  (1779). 
The  result  was,  a  determination  to  pursue 
at  the  North  a  defensive  polioy,  with  the 
exception  of  the  expedition  against  the 
Indians,  which  we  have  already  related. 
Washington's  patriotism  was  greatly 
shocked  by  the  selfish  intrigues  and  par 


tisanship  of  the  public  men  by  whom  he 
found  himself  surrounded  at  the  capital. 
"  If  I  were  called  upon,"  he  wrote,  "  to 
draw  a  picture  of  the  times  and  of  men, 
from  what  I  have  seen,  heard,  and  in  part 
know,  I  should  in  one  word  say  that  idle 
ness,  dissipation,  and  extravagance,  seem  to 
have  laid  fast  hold  of  most  of  them  ;  that  spec 
ulation,  peculation,  and  an  insatiable  thirst  for 
riches,  seem  to  have  got  the  belter  of  every  other 
consideration,  and  almost  of  every  order  of 
men  ;  that  part?/  disputes  and  personal  quarrels 
are  the  great  business  of  the  day  ;  ivhile  the 

MOMENTOUS   CONCERNS   OF  AN   EMPIRE,  a  great 

and  accumulating  debt,  ruined  finances,  depre 
ciated  money,  and  ivant  of  credit  (ivhich  in  its 
consequences  is  the  want  of  ever //thing),  are 
but  secondary  considerations,  and  postponed 
from  day  to  day,  from  iveeJc  to  week,  as  if  oi:r 
affairs  wore  the  most  promising  aspect." 

By  his  personal  efforts  and  tact  in  the 
control  of  others,  Washington  succeeded 
in  securing  unusual  comfort  and  good  dis 
cipline  among  his  troops.  By  timely  in- 
terposition,he  prevented  what  threatened 
to  prove  a  serious  mutiny  on  the  part  of 
the  officers  attached  to  the  New-Jersey 
brigade  of  General  Maxwell,  who  were 
ordered  to  join  Sullivan  in  the  expedition 
against  the  tribes  of  the  Six  Nations.  The 
officers  were  induced  to  withdraw  a  me 
morial  which  they  had  drawn  up  and  sent 
to  the  legislature,  in  which  they  declared 
that  they  would  not  march  until  their  ar 
rears  of  pay  were  settled  ;  and,  by  the  dis 
creet  management  of  Washington,  they 
were  prevailed  upon  to  proceed  to  their 
duty. 

General  Putnam  was  not  so  successful 
with  his  division  at  Dauby  The  men  did 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         HOLYDAY  FESTIVITIES  IN  THE  AMERICAN  CAMP. 


683 


1779, 


not  get  under  cover  in  their  huts  until 
some  time  in  January;  and  while 
obliged  to  remain  in  their  tents  in 
the  height  of  winter,  they  suffered  greatly 
from  the  exposure  to  cold.  Provisions, 
too,  became  so  scanty,  that  for  six  or  nine 
days  together  the  soldier  was  in  want  of 
his  ration  of  bread.  A  revolt  took  place 
in  consequence  in  the  brigade  under  Gen 
eral  Huntington.  Four  hundred  men  got 
under  arms  and  marched  out  of  the  camp 
to  an  advantageous  ground  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  where  they  took  post,  and  ex 
pected  to  be  joined  by  others.  General 
Putnam, however,  finally  succeeded  in  dis 
persing  the  mutineers  and  quelling  the 
rebellion. 

Though  for  awhile  there  seemed  an 
end  to  active  campaigning,  the  dull  rou 
tine  of  camp-life  was  enlivened  by  various 
distractions.  "Military  duty  not  being 
very  urgent,"  says  a  contemporary  annal 
ist,  "  our  officers  appear  disposed  to  relax 
in  their  discipline,  and  contract  a  habit 
approaching  to  dissipation."  Late  sup 
pers,  with  music  and  dancing  continued 
"  through  half  the  night,"  became  the  fa 
vorite  amusements,  particularly  of  those 
hot  bloods  the  Virginian  and  Maryland 
officers.  Brigadier-General  Muhlenberg, 
who  had  doffed  the  surplice  for  the  con 
tinental  uniform,  and  preached  his  fare 
well  sermon  in  sword  and  cockade,  was 
among  the  most  hospitable  of  the  military 
Amphytrions.  We  re-ad  of  his  table  being 
loaded  with  "fourteen  different  dishes," 
and  surrounded  by  "forty-one  respecta 
ble  officers"  as  guests.  The  wine  circu 
lated  freely,  toasts  passed,  and  "  humor 
ous  and  rnerry  songs"  were  sung;  while 


the  conviviality  and  gayety  were  length 
ened  out  to  a  late  hour  in  the  night  with 
military  music,  dancing,  and  punch. 

Christmas  was  not  allowed  to  pass  with 
out  its  appropriate  banqueting ;  and  on 
the  opening  of  the  year,  "  Colonel  Gibson 
made  an  entertainment,  and  invited  all  the 
officers  of  his  regiment  to  dine  at  his  quar 
ters  in  the  country,  a  short  distance  from, 
camp."  The  guests  did  not  leave  the 
"amply-furnished"  table  until  evening, 
when  they  were  invited  to  the  hospitable 
quarters  of  the  ci-devant  parson,  Muhlen 
berg.  "Here  we  were  introduced,"  says 
the  writer  before  quoted,  "  to  a  number 
of  ladies  assembled  to  unite  with  the  gen 
tlemen  in  the  ballroom;  a  very  elegant 
supper  was  provided,  and  not  one  of  the 
company  was  permitted  to  retire  till  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Thus  have  the 
gallant  Virginians  commenced  the  new 
year."* 

The  anniversary  of  the  alliance  with 
France  affords  the  camp  an  occasion  for 
a  holyday,  and  it  is  celebrated  in  "  prop 
er  style"  near  headquarters.  A  "splen 
did  entertainment"  was  given  by  General 
Knox  and  the  officers  of  the  artillery. 
General  and  Mrs.  Washington,  the  prin 
cipal  officers  of  the  army  and  their  wives, 
and  a  number  of  the  leading  gentry  of 
the  neighborhood,  formed  "  the  brilliant 
assembly."  About  four  o'clock,  sixteen 
cannon  were  discharged,  and  the  guests 
collected  in  a  large  public  building  to 
partake  of  the  banquet  prepared  for  the 
occasion.  In  the  evening  fireworks  were 
let  off,  and  the  celebration  was  concluded 
"  by  a  splendid  ball,  opened  by  his  excel- 

*  Thachcr. 


684 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


lency  General  Washington,  having  for  his 
partner  the  lady  of  General  Knox." 

The  commander-in-chief  gives  an  ex 
ample  of  hospitality  by  "  inviting  a  cer 
tain,  number  of  officers  to  dine  at  his  ta 
ble  every  day."  As  his  excellency  can 
not  possibly  be  acquainted  with  every 
officer  by  name,  his  invitations  are  given 
through  the  medium  of  general  orders, 
in  which  is  mentioned  the  brigade  from 
which  the  officer  is  expected.  At  these 
dinners  the  table  is  "  elegantly  furnished 
and  the  provisions  ample,  but  not  abound 
ing  in  superfluities."  Colonel  Hamilton, 
the  aid-de-camp  and  secretary,  does  the 
honors  at  the  head,  while  General  and 
Mrs.  Washington  sit  at  the  side  of  the 
table.  "  In  conversation,  his  excellency's 
expressive  countenance  is  peculiarly  in 
teresting  and  pleasing ;  a  placid  smile  is 
frequently  observed  on  his  lips,  but  a 
loud  laugh,  it  is  said,  seldom  if  ever  es 
capes  him.  He  is  polite  and  attentive  to 
each  individual  at  table,  and  retires  after 
the  compliments  of  a  few  glasses.  Mrs. 
Washington  combines  in  an  uncommon 
degree  great  dignity  of  manner  with  the 
most  pleasing  affability,  but  possesses  no 
striking  marks  of  beauty." 

The  visit  to  the  camp  of  Monsieur  Ge 
rard,  the  French  minister,  and  Don  Juan 
de  Mirilliars,  a  secret  Spanish  agent — 
whose  arrival  is  announced  by  the  firing 
of  thirteen  cannon — was  the  occasion  for 
a  grand  review  of  the  army,  when  Baron 
Steuben's  good  offices  as  a  disciplinarian 
were  made  manifest.  , 

The  whole  of  the  army  was  paraded  in 
martial  array  in  a  spacious  field,  and  a 
stage  was  erected  for  the  accommodation 


of  the  spectators.  "  At  the  signal  of  thir 
teen  cannon,  the  great  and  splendid  cav 
alcade  approached  in  martial  pomp  and 
style.  A  very  beautiful  troop  of  light- 
horse,  commanded  by  Major  Lee,  a  Vir 
ginian,  marched  in  front;  then  followed 
his  excellency  the  commander-in-chief 
and  his  aids-de-camp ;  next  the  foreign 
ministers  and  their  retinue ;  while  the 
general  officers  and  their  aids  closed  the 
procession.  Having  arrived  on  the  field 
of  parade,  the  commander-in-chief,  with 
the  foreign  ministers  and  general  officers; 
passed  in  front  of  the  line  of  the  army, 
from  right  to  left,  in  review,  and  received 
the  military  honors  due  to  their  rank; 
after  which  the  gentlemen -dismounted 
and  retired  to  the  stage,  and  took  seats 
with  Mrs.  Washington,  Mrs.  Greene,  Mrs 
Knox,  and  a  number  of  other  ladies,  who 
had  arrived  in  their  carriages. 

"The  army  then  performed  the  field 
manoeuvres  and  evolutions,  with  firing  of 
cannon  arid  musketry.  The  business  of 
the  day  was  closed  by  the  troops  deploy 
ing:  and  marching  in  front  of  the  stage, 

O  o  tj     / 

and  paying  the  marching  salute  to  their 
excellencies." 

Washington's  tall  figure  and  command- 

O  O 

ing  air  made  him  conspicuous  above  all 
others.  "While  mounted  on  his  noble 
bay  charger,"  continues  our  annalist,  "  his 
stature  appears  remarkable ;  and,  being 
a  good  horseman,  he  displays  a  lofty  car 
riage  and  benign  dignity  of  demeanor."* 
In  a  few  days  more,  some  native  gen 
tlemen  present  themselves  in  the  camp, 
when  Washington  treats  them  to  a  re 
view.  "His  excellency,"  says  Thacher, 

*  Thacher. 


RKVOLUTIOXARY."] 


CAMP-SCENES  AT  MIDDLEBROOK. 


685 


"  with  his  usual  dignity,  followed  by  his 
mulatto-servant  Bill,  riding  a  beautiful 
gray  steed,  passed  in  front  of  the  line  and 
received  the  salute.  He  was  accompa 
nied  by  a  singular  group  of  savages,  whose 
appearance  was  beyond  description  ludi 
crous.  Their  horses  were  of  the  mean 
est  kind,  some  of  them  destitute  of  sad 
dles,  and  old  lines  were  used  for  bridles. 
Their  personal  decorations  were  equally 
farcical,  having  their  faces  painted  of  va 
rious  colors,  jewels  suspended  from  their 
ears  and  noses,  their  heads  without  cov 
ering  except  tufts  of  hair  on  the  crown, 
and  some  of  them  wore  dirty  blankets 
over  their  shoulders  waving  in  the  wind." 
Thus  passed  the  winter  and  early  spring 
of  1779,  in  a  current  of  cheerfulness,  only 
disturbed  by  an  occasional  duel  or  an  ex 
ecution.  Captain  E gives  offence  to 

Captain  H ,  and  is  challenged  to  mor 
tal  combat.  E refuses,  and  H 

horsewhips  him.     E now  challenges 

H !  They  fight;  but,  quaintly  ob 
serves  our  annalist,  "no  blood  is  shed, 
and  not  even  a  hair  of  their  heads  in 
jured."  Both,  however,  retire  from  the 


ground  perfectly  satisfied  that  the  breach 
in  their  "honor"  is  made  whole  —  until 
the  next  occasion  for  repair! 

Five  soldiers,  condemned  to  death  for 
desertion  and  robbery,  are  led  to  the  gal 
lows  in  a  cart,  seated  on  coffins,  and  with 
halters  about  their  necks.  A  detachment 
of  troops  guards  the  unhappy  criminals, 
and  a  large  concourse  of  spectators  gath 
er  in  a  circle  about  the  place  of  execution. 
While  these  poor  wretches  are  awaiting 
the  fatal  moment  which  is  to  end  their 
earthly  existence,  three  of  them  receive  a 
pardon  from  the  humane  commander-in- 
chief,  "  who,"  justly  remarks  the  narrator 
of  these  incidents,  "is  always  tenderly 
disposed  to  spare  the  lives  of  his  soldiers." 
Two  of  the  condemned,  more  culpable 
than  the  others,  are  obliged  to  submit  to 
their  fate.  One  is  accompanied  to  the 
gallows  by  his  brother.  Their  warm  ex 
pressions  of  affection  bring  tears  upon  the 
cheeks  of  every  beholder.  They  cling 
together  in  the  fondest  embrace,  kissing 
each  other,  until  the  hangman  is  forced 
to  part  them,  and  to  perform  his  cruel 
function. 


080 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


fl'AUT    II. 


CHAPTER    LXXVII. 

The  Tory  Plunderers  in  East  Florida. — General  Robert  Flowe  marches  against  Them. — Off  for  Georgia. — Fort  Tonyon 
abandoned. — General  Howe  retires  to  Savannah. — Disappointment. — The  British  Expedition. — Colonel  Campbell. — 
His  Character. — His  Arrival  in  Georgia. — He  attacks  and  beats  Howe. — Howe  tried  and  acquitted  by  Court-Martini. 
— His  Fault. — General  Prevost  on  the  March. — He  takes  Sunbury. — He  arrives  at  Savannah. — All  Georgia  for  the 
British. — Howe  recalled. — General  Lincoln  appointed  to  the  Command  of  the  Americans. — His  Life  and  Character.— 
His  Arrival  in  Georgia. — Success  of  Moultrie  at  Port  Royal. — Lincoln  resolves  to  act, — General  Ashe  defeated  bv 
Campbell. — Restoration  of  Confidence  among  the  Tories.— March  of  Prevost  through  South  Carolina. — Retreat  of 
Moultrie. — Charleston  aroused. — Energy  of  Governor  Rutledge. — Gallant  Sortie  of  Count  Pulaski.— Proposition  of 
the  Charleston  Authorities. — No  Politician. — Lincoln  advances. — Prevost  retires. 


1778, 


THE  tories  bad  gathered  in  con 
siderable  force  in  East  Florida  late 
in  the  autumn,  whence  they  crossed  into 
Georgia,  and  plundered  and  laid  waste 
the  country.  General  Robert  Howe,  who 
was  chief  in  command  of  the  troops  of  the 
southern  states,  now  collected  a  force  of 
two  thousand  men  (a  few  of  whom  were 
continental  soldiers,  but  the  greater  por 
tion  South-Carolina  and  Georgia  militia), 
and  prepared  to  advance  into  Florida  and 
attack  the  tory  depredators  in  their  own 
haunts.  He  was  already  on  his  march, 
when  he  learned  that  the  enemy,  with  a 
body  of  tories  and  Indians,  were  also  on 
the  move,  to  invade  Georgia.  General 
Howe  hastened  to  meet  them ;  and,  on 
reaching  Fort  Tonyon,  situated  on  the 
St.  Mary's  river,  he  found  the  works  par 
tially  demolished  and  abandoned  by  the 
enemy,  who  had  retired  as  he  advanced, 
and  were  retreating  to  ward  St.  Augustine. 
Dissension  now  occurred  among  Howe's 
officers,  and  the  climate  of  that  region  of 
swamps  began  to  sicken  the  men.  In  a 
short  time,  disease  and  death  had  so  di 
minished  and  weakened  the  troops,  that 


hardly  one  half  were  fit  for  duty.  The 
American  commander  therefore  resolved 
upon  retiring,  and  returned  to  Savannah, 
where,  upon  his  arrival,  he  gave  such  a 
sorry  account  of  his  expedition  as  created 
great  disappointment. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  apprized  of  the  ap 
parent  ascendency  of  the  loyalists  at  the 
South,  determined  to  strengthen  the  Brit 
ish  influence  there  by  a  vigorous  mani 
festation  of  force.  Although  the  larger 
portion  of  the  fleet  under  Admiral  Byron, 
who  succeeded  Lord  Howe,  had  sailed  for 
the  West  Indies  (after  looking  into  Bos 
ton  harbor,  and  finding  Count  d'Estainsj 

O  O 

too  strongly  moored  to  be  disturbed),  a 
considerable  number  of  men-of-war  were 
still  at  New  York.  Sir  Henry  Clinton  ac 
cordingly  despatched  a  body  of  about  two 
thousand  troops  for  the  South  under  the 
orders  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell, 
in  a  squadron  commanded  by  Commodore 
Hyde  Parker. 

Campbell  was  the  officer  who  had  been 
captured  off'  Boston,  and  suffered  so  long 
an  imprisonment,  till  he  was  exchanged 
for  General  Lee.  He  was  possessed  of 


RKVOLDTIONAUY.]       INVASION  OF  GEORGIA.— AMERICANS  DEFEATED. 


GS7 


Dec,  29, 


great  military  skill,  and  tact  in  concilia 
ting  his  enemies.  No  better  man  could 
have  been  selected  to  conduct  the  south 
ern  expedition.  He  arrived  off  the  coast 
of  Georgia  near  the  close  of  the  year,  and, 
having  sailed  up  the  Tybee  for  twelve 
miles,  debarked  his  troops  about 
three  miles  below  Savannah,  the 
capital  of  the  state.  General  Prevost,  who 
was  in  command  of  the  British  force  in 
Florida,  was  ordered  to  co-operate  with 
Campbell  by  marching  into  Georgia  from 
the  south. 

Major-General  Howe,  who  had  just  re 
turned  from  his  unfortunate  expedition 
against  the  tory  and  Indian  marauders  of 
East  Florida,  was  posted  with  one  thou 
sand  five  hundred  men  within  half  a  mile 
of  Savannah.  His  ground  had  been  well 
selected.  Parallel  to  and  in  advance  of 
his  front  was  a  lagoon,  over  which  the 
main  road  to  Savannah  passed  by  means 
of  a  bridge,  but  which  the  American  com 
mander  destroyed,  in  order  to  prevent 
the  advance  of  the  British  from  the  town. 
His  right  flank  was  covered  by  a  morass, 
mostly  overgrown  with  a  thick  wood,  with 
here  and  there  a  house,  however,  where 
some  riflemen  were  posted.  His  left  was 
protected  by  the  swamps  of  the  Savannah 
river,  which,  in  order  further  to  strength 
en  his  position,  he  had  connected  with  the 
morass  on  his  rit»-ht  by  db'inno;  a  trench 

o  J  oO        O 

along  his  front.  The  town  and  works  of 
Savannah  covered  his  rear.  Howe,  con 
fident  in  the  strength  of  his  ground,  calm 
ly  awaited  the  approach  of  the  enemy. 

As  the  British  van  came  up,  a  skirmish 
took  place,  but  with  little  result,  beyond 
the  loss  of  a  few  men  and  a  brave  Eng 


lish  officer.  Lieutenant- Colonel  Camp 
bell  had  pushed  forward  with  the  first 
division  of  his  troops,  and  was  reconnoi 
tring  Howe's  position,  when  a  negro  pre 
sented  himself,  who  undertook  to  point 
out  a  by-path  that  led  through  the  swamp 
to  the  American  rear.  Campbell  gladly 
availed  himself  of  the  negro's  information 
and  guidance,  and  instantly  made  them 
available  in  action. 

Sir  James  Baird  was  detached  with  the 
light-infantry  and  the  corps  of  New-York 
loyalists,  to  take  the  path  to  the  American 
rear  disclosed  by  the  negro  ;  while  Camp 
bell  himself  remained  in  front,  arranging 
his  line  and  preparing  for  action.  He  in 
tentionally  delayed  his  attack  until  a  fire 
in  the  American  rear  gave  proof  that  Sir 
James  had  accomplished  his  object.  The 
first  gun  was  a  signal  for  general  assault. 
Campbell  pushed  on  promptly  in  front, 
while  Baird  pressed  in  toward  the  Ameri 
can  rear. 

General  Howe's  troops,  thus  surround 
ed,  were  broken  and  driven  in  confusion 
from  their  ground.  The  defeat  was  in 
stantaneous  and  decisive.  Never  was  a 
victory  of  such  magnitude  so  completely 
gained  with  so  little  loss,  the  British  hav 
ing  but  seven  killed  and  nineteen  wound 
ed.*  The  Americans  were  hotly  pursued 
through  Savannah,  and  Howe  was  only 
able  to  save  a  small  remnant  of  his  force 
by  fleeing  up  the  river  and  escaping  into 
South  Carolina.  He  left  behind  him  five 
hundred  and  fifty  men  either  dead,  wound 
ed,  or  prisoners,  together  with  all  his  ar 
tillery  and  baggage. 

General  Howe  was  subsequently  tried 

*  Lee's  Soutltern  Wur. 


088 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


by  court-martial,  but  acquitted.  What 
ever  may  have  been  his  skill,  however,  in 
the  choice  of  his  ground,  and  his  gallantry 
in  awaiting  the  attack  of  a  superior  ene 
my,  he  certainly  was  amenable  to  the 
charge  of  a  want  of  due  circumspection, 
in  leaving  the  by-path  which  led  to  his 
rear,  open  to  the  advance  of  the  enemy. 
It  could  hardly  have  been  from  ignorance 
—  for  "  how  happens  it,"  as  the  historian 
asks,  "  that  he  who  had  been  in  command 
in  that  country  for  many  months,  should 
not  have  discovered  the  by-way  passing  to 
his  rear,  when  Lieutenant-Colonel  Camp 
bell  contrived  to  discover  it  in  a  few 
hours  ?"* 

Brigadier-General  Prevost  was  equally 
effective  in  accomplishing  his  part  of  the 
enterprise.  Early  in  January,  he 
rapidly  marched  northward  and  en 
tered  Georgia.  Immediately  investing 
Sunbury,  below  Savannah,  he  compelled 
it  to  surrender ;  and,  having  left  a  garri 
son  in  the  fort,  proceeded  to  the  latter 
town  without  opposition.  Being  superior 
in  rank,  Prevost  assumed  the  chief  com 
mand  of  all  the  royal  forces  at  the  South, 
and  detached  his  subordinate  against  Au 
gusta.  Campbell  got  possession  of  the 
town  without  striking  a  blow.  In  the 
course  of  a  short  month,  the  whole  state 
of  Georgia  was  restored  to  the  authority 
of  the  British  crown.  Nor  was  this  result 
due  more  to  the  strength  of  the  enemv's 

o  »/ 

arms  than  to  the  conciliatory  tact  of  the 
British  generals.  Both  Campbell  and  Pre 
vost  spared  the  property  and  protected 
the  lives  of  the  vanquished.  This  pru 
dent  policy  soon  produced  its  legitimate 


*  Lee. 


fruits,  and  was  rewarded  with  the  affec 
tions  of  the  people,  who  now  flocked  to 
the  British  standard. 

After  taking  possession  of  Augusta,  as 
already  mentioned,  Lieutenant- Colonel 
Hamilton  was  detached  into  the  interior 
of  Georgia,  in  order  to  crush  any  remain 
ing  resistance,  and  to  encourage  the  loy 
alists  to  come  forward  and  aid  in  com 
pleting  the  establishment  of  royal  author 
ity  in  the  state.  Colonel  Pick  ens,  of  South 
Carolina,  hastily  gathered  his  regiment 
of  militia,  and  marched  into  Georgia,  with 
the  view  of  thwarting  the  progress  of  Brit 
ish  influence.  Advancing  toward  Hamil 
ton,  he  was  on  the  point  of  giving  him 
battle,  when,  finding  him  too  strong,  sus 
tained  as  he  was  by  the  co-operation  of 
the  inhabitants,  he  retired.  On  his  re 
turn,  Pickens  fell  in  with  a  party  of  loy 
alists,  under  Colonel  Boyd.  These  ma 
rauders  were  desolating  the  frontier  of 
South  Carolina,  on  their  way  to  join  the 
royal  troops,  and  were  now  encountered 

at  Kettle  creek,  within  two  days' 

.      ,  .  /       Feb.  14, 

march  01  Augusta.  A  sanguina 
ry  struggle  took  place,  in  which  the  tory 
leader  and  seventy  of  his  followers  hav 
ing  been  slain,  and  an  equal  number  ta 
ken  prisoners,  the  rest  fled.  This  was 
the  only  check  received  by  the  British 
during  their  invasion  of  Georgia,  Savan 
nah  being  made  the  headquarters  of  their 
army  in  the  South,  and  retained  as  such 
"  until  near  the  close  of  the  contest,  in 
1782,  when  every  rood  of  the  soil,  .out 
side  of  the  intrenchments  around  that 
city,  was  in  possession  of  the  republicans." 
The  fatality  which  seemed  to  attend 
the  expeditions  of  General  .Robert  Howe 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 

created  a  strong  prejudice  against  him ; 
and  the  delegates  in  Congress  from  South 
Carolina  and  Georgia  clamorously  insist 
ed  upon  the  substitution  in  his  place  of  a 
more  experienced  general.  At  the  same 
time,  the  states  of  Virginia  and  North 
Carolina  were  urgently  appealed  to  for 
succor.  The  latter  promptly  responded, 
and  sent  to  the  aid  of  her  suffering  sister- 
state  two  thousand  militia,  under  Gener 
als  Ashe  and  Rutherford.  As  these  were, 
however,  unarmed,  it  was  some  time  be 
fore  they  could  be  of  effective  service.  In 
the  meantime,  Congress  appointed  Major- 
General  Lincoln,  of  Massachusetts,  com 
mander  of  the  southern  department,  in 
the  place  of  General  Howe,  who  joined 
the  main  army,  under  Washington. 

BENJAMIN  LINCOLN  led  the  life  of  a  farm 
er  near  Hingharn,in  Massachusetts, his  na 
tive  town,  until  he  was  more  than  forty 
years  of  age.  Patriotism  made  a  soldier 
<>{'  him,  and,  after  serving  as  an  officer  in 
the  militia,  he  was  appointed  in  1777  a 
major-general- in  the  continental  army. 
He  served  with  Gates  at  Saratoga,  where 
he  was  wounded.  His  great  influence  in 
his  native  state  was  exercised  much  to 
the  advantage  of  the  American  northern 
campaign,  at  a  time  when  the  first  tri 
umphs  of  Burgoyne  had  depressed  the 
hopes  of  the  eastern  patriots.  "  Upright, 
mild,  and  amiable,  he  was  universally  re 
spected  and  beloved  ;  a  truly  good  man, 
and  a  brave  and  prudent  but  not  consum 
mate  soldier,"  is  the  character  written  of 
him  by  Harry  Lee.  In  person,  he  was 
large  and  corpulent,  and  the  heaviest  offi-  , 
cer  in  the  army,  his  weight  at  one  time  j 
being  about  three  hundred  pounds. 
87 


BENJAMIN   LINCOLN. 


General  Lincoln  reached  Charleston  in 
January,  soon  after  Howe's  disaster  at  Sa 
vannah,  and  immediately  hurried 
into  Georgia,  where  he  gathered  the 
scattered  American  force,  and,  uniting  it 
with  the  Carolina  troops,  stationed  his 
army  at  Purysburg,  on  the  Savannah  riv 
er,  about  fifteen  miles  above  the  city  of 
Savannah.  The  American  troops  were 
less  than  four  thousand  in  number,  and 
of  these  only  eleven  hundred  were  regu 
lar  soldiers,  the  rest  being  raw  militia. 

The  enemy's  forces  amounted  to  about 
the  same  as  the  Americans ;  but,  as  they 
were  distributed  at  different  posts  from 
Savannah  to  Augusta,  a  distance  of  one 
hundred  miles,  they  were  not  sufficiently 
concentrated  to  act  with  much  effect  on 
the  offensive.  The  British  general,  more 
over,  was  for  the  present  contented  with 
the  possession  of  Georgia,  which  he  strove 
to  retain  by  maintaining  his  long  line  of 
defence.  Lincoln,  in  the  meanwhile,  al 
though  he  held  his  force  compactly  to 
gether,  did  not  for  some  time  seem  to  be 
disposed  to  begin  operations. 

General  Prevost,  anxious  to  establish 
a  post  in  South  Carolina,  preparatory  to 
the  future  purposes  of  his  campaign,  de 
tached  two  hundred  men  by  sea  to  take 
possession  of  Port  Royal,  an  island  near 
Charleston.  They  succeeded  in  making 
good  their  landing,  but  were  soon  ousted 
by  the  brave  Colonel  Mo ul trie,  who,  at  the 
head  of  a  few  hundred  militia,  drove  the 
British  from  the  island,  and  would  have 
totally  destroyed  them  had  not  the  am 
munition  given  out.  Some  well-known 
Carolina  names,  as  Barnwell,  Heyward, 
Rutledge,  and  Wilkins,  were  among  those 


690 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


IMPART    II. 


which  became  distinguished  in  the  con 
flict  of  that  day. 

General  Lincoln,  being  strengthened 
by  a  large  accession  of  militia  from  the 
Carolina*?,  now  resolved  upon  action.  Fif 
teen  hundred  men,  of  whom  one  hundred 
only  were  regulars,  were  detached,  under 
General  Ashe,  of  North  Carolina, 
to  take  post  on  the  Carolina  side 
of  the  Savannah  river,  opposite  Augusta. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell,  who  was 
stationed  in  the  town,  fell  back  immedi 
ately  on  the  approach  of  the  Americans, 
and,  crossing  Brier  creek,  encamped  at 
Hudson's  ferry,  twenty-four  miles  above 
Ebenezer,  where  General  Prevost  had  his 
headquarters. 

Lincoln's  object  was,  if  possible,  to  cut 
off  the  enemy. from  the  northern  part  of 
Georgia;  and  therefore, after  securing  the 
posts  along  the  Savannah,  on  the  Carolina 
side,  he  ordered  General  Ashe  to  cross  the 
river,  with  the  view  of  keeping  the  Brit 
ish  within  the  lower  country,  along  the 
seaboard,  where  the  malaria  of  that  un 
healthy  region  would  prove  a  formidable 
scourge  to  the  invaders  during  the  ensu 
ing  summer  heats.  Ashe,  in  accordance 
with  General  Lincoln's  directions,  posted 
himself  behind  Brier  creek,  where  it  falls 
into  the  Savannah,  forty  miles  below  Au 
gusta.  Prevost  determined  to  dislodge 
him.  To  conceal  his  object,  the  British 
general  made  a  feint  of  crossing  the  Sa 
vannah  with  his  main  body.  While  Ashe 
was  concentrating  his  attention  upon  this 
demonstration,  Prevost  marched  with  a 
strong  detachment  for  a  distance  of  fifty 
miles  —  forded  Brier  creek,  fifteen  miles 
above  the  American  camp  —  and  fell  sud- 


March  3. 


denly  upon  its  rear.  The  hand 
ful  of  continental  troops,  under 
Elbert,  made  a  brave  though  vain  resist 
ance ;  but  the  militia  were  driven  away 
in  confused  flight.  The  British  loss  was 
insignificant, while  only  four  hundred  and 
fifty  of  the  Americans  ever  rejoined  the 
army.  Some  were  killed,  others  perished 
in  the  morasses,  and  many  were  drowned 
in  attempting  to  cross  the  Savannah  riv 
er.  By  this  disaster,  one  fourth  part  of 
Lincoln's  small  force  was  destroyed. 

The  spirit  of  loyalty  in  Georgia  to  the 
British  throne,  which  had  been  tempora 
rily  discouraged  by  the  advance  of  the 
American  troops,  and  the  retirement  of 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell  from  Au 
gusta,  was  now  revived  by  the  success  of 
Prevost.  But  in  the  neighboring  state 
of  South  Carolina:,  the  disasters  of  the 
American  arms  in  Georgia  only  served  to 
reanimate  the  people  to  more  vigorous 
exertions  for  the  cause  of  independence. 
John  Kutledge,  being  immediately  ap 
pointed  governor,  and  invested  with  the 
powers  of  a  dictator,  imparted  resolution 
to  all  by  his  wise  counsels,  his  eloquent 
appeals,  and  firm  conduct.  The  militia 
rallied  to  the  American  standard,  and  Gen 
eral  Lincoln  (whose  force  had  now  in 
creased  to  five  thousand  men)  was  en 
couraged  in  his  efforts  to  hold  Augusta 
and  the  upper  part  of  Georgia. 

Having  left  a  thousand  men,  under  the 
command  of  Moultrie,  to  defend  the  posts 
of  Purysburg  and  Black,  swamp,  Lincoln 
in  the  latter  part  of  A  >ril  moved  toward 
Augusta.  While  he  -vas  marching  along 
the  right  bank  of  the  Savannah,  General 
Prevost,  aware  of  the  movement,  took  ad- 


THE  BRITISH  APPEAR  BEFORK  CHARLESTON. 


691 


vantage  of  the  American  commander's 
absence,  and  crossed  the  river  to  Purys- 
burg  with  two  thousand  regulars,  and  a 
considerable  body  of  loyalists  and  Creek 
Indians.  After  entering  South  Carolina, 
and  finding  Purysburg  abandoned,  the 
British  general  made  a  forced  march  du 
ring  the  night,  in  the  hope  of  overtaking 
Mo  ul  trie  at  Black  swamp.  He  was,  how 
ever,  three  hours  too  late. 

Moultrie,  being  joined  by  Colonel  Mbln- 
tosh,  who  had  made  a  timely  retreat  from 
Purysburg, took  post  at  Tulifinnee  bridge, 
leaving  Lieutenant-Colonel  Laurens,  with 
a  small  party  of  continental  troops  and  a 
body  of  militia,  at  Coosawhatchie  bridge  ; 
which,  however,  after  a  gallant  defence, 
in  which  he  was  wounded,  he  was  forced 
to  abandon  on  the  advance  of  Prevost. 
The  British  general's  object  was  Charles 
ton,  by  threatening  which  he  hoped  to 
divert  Lincoln,  who  had  now  recrossed 
the  Savannah,  from  his  Georgia  project. 
The  latter,  however,  thinking  Prevost's 
movement  was  but  a  feint,  persevered, 
and  contented  himself  with  despatching 
a  party  of  three  hundred  infantry,  under 
Colonel  Harris,  to  reinforce  Moultrie,  and 
aid  him  in  opposing  the  inarch  of  the  Brit 
ish  through  South  Carolina. 

General  Prevost, nevertheless, 
proceeded  on  his  march  toward 
Charleston.  Moultrie  continued  to  re  treat 
before  him ;  and,  having  no  cavalry,  he 
was  unable  to  check  the  British  advance, 
and  only  to  embarrass  it  by  destroying 
the  bridges.  The  march  of  the  British 
commander  through  South  Carolina  was 
triumphant.  General  Lincoln  was  away 
in  Georgia ;  Governor  Rutledge,  with  the 


May  1, 


reserve  militia,  was  in  the  interior ;  Moul 
trie,  with  his  handful  of  men,  was  in  re 
treat;  the  inhabitants  of  the  state  were 
panic-stricken,  and  many  in  their  frigh 
appealed  to  the  British  for  protection. 
Prevost  might  now  have  pushed  on  and 
carried  Charleston  by  a  coup  de  main.  For 
some  unaccountable  reason,  however,  he 
delayed  for  two  or  three  days  on  his  march, 
and  lost  his  chance. 

The  threatened  city,  in  the  meantime, 
was  aroused  from  the  lethargy  of  despair 
to  the  activity  of  hope.  The  lieutenant- 
governor  and  the  council  made  the  great 
est  exertions  to  stimulate  the  energies  of 
the  inhabitants.  Every  effort  was  made 
to  fortify  the  town.  "  Masters  and  ser 
vants,  boys  and  girls,"  says  Lee,  a  mixed 
in  the  honorable  work  of  self-defence." 
All  the  houses  in  the  suburbs  were  burnt. 
Intrenchments  and  abattis  of  trees  were 
extended  from  Ashley  to  Cooper  rivers, 
and  cannon  mounted  across  the  whole  ex 
tent  of  Charleston  neck.  The  militia  of 
the  neighborhood  thronged  in  at  the  call 
of  the  lieutenant-governor. 

General  Moultrie's  retreating  troops  at 
length  arrived.  Governor  Rutledge  and 
the  militia,  with  a  reinforcement  of  con 
tinental  troops,  followed,  having  hurried 
forward  by  forced  marches.  On  the  10th 
of  May,  all  were  in  the  town. 

It  was  not  until  the  next  day  that  nine 
hundred  of  the  British  troops  crossed  the 

Ashley  river,  and  appeared  be- 

.  .  May  lit 

fore  the  town.     Hie  mam  body, 

with  the  baggage,  were  left  on  the  other 
side.  The  spirited  Pulaski,  with  his  le 
gion  of  light-horse,  arrived  to  aid  in  the 
rescue  of  Charleston  on  the  very  day  on 


692 


BATTLES   OF  AMERICA 


[PAKT    II. 


which  the  British  presented  themselves. 
He  strove  to  make  himself  useful  on  the 
moment.  The  English  had  hardly  arrived 
two  hours,  when  the  gallant  Pole  led  a 
body  of  horse  and  some  infantry  beyond 
the  lines,  and,  having  stationed  the  latter 
in  a  valley,  behind  a  small  breastwork, 
endeavored  to  draw  the  enemy  into  an 
ambuscade.  Advancing  at  the  head  of  a 
troop  of  horse,  Pulaski  provoked  an  en 
gagement  with  the  British  cavalry,  and 
then  retreated  to  the  infantry.  The  lat 
ter,  however,  in  their  eagerness  to  engage, 
had  left  their  ambush,  and  thus  thwarted 
the  design. 

A  struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  Brit 
ish,  with  their  superior  numbers,  had  the 
advantage.  Count  Pulaski,  by  personal 
activity  and  bravery,  did  all  in  his  power 
to  compensate  for  the  imprudence  of  his 
men,  but  was  finally  obliged  to  retreat 
within  the  lines. 

That  the  town  might  not  be  assaulted 
by  surprise  during  the  night,  tar-barrels 
were  lighted  up  in  front  of  the  works. 
This  precaution  gave  rise  to  an  accident 
which  was  greatly  lamented  in  South  Car 
olina,  as  it  deprived  the  state  of  one  of 
its  most  devoted  patriots.  Governor  Rut- 
ledge,  having  discovered  a  breach  in  the 
abattis,  sent  Major  Benjamin  Huger,  at  the 
head  of  a  small  party,  to  repair  it.  The. 
garrison,  seeing  by  the  light  of  the  tar- 
barrels  some  men  at  the  works,  and  not 
being  aware  of  their  purpose,  took  them 
for  enemies,  and  fired  upon  them,  killing 
Huger  and  twelve  of  his  men. 

On  the  following  day  a  council  was 
held,  when,  as  there  was  little 


Nay  12, 


trust  to  be  put  in  the  military 


conduct  of  the  'ohree  thousand  three  hun 
dred  troops  which  defended  the  city,  they 
being  chiefly  raw  militia;  and  as,  although 
Lincoln  was  now  marching  to  their  assist 
ance,  the  time  of  his  arrival  was  uncertain, 
it  was  determined  by  a  majority  of  the 
civil  (though  not  of  the  military)  officers 
to  make  a  proposition  to  the  British  gen 
eral. 

The  proposition  was  as  follows  :  "  That 
South  Carolina  will  remain  in  a  state  of 
neutrality  till  the  close  of  the  war,  and 
then  follow  the  fate  of  its  neighbors,  on 
condition  that  the  royal  army  will  with 
draw."*  The  British  commander  bluntly 
rejected  this  offer,  declaring  that  he  was 
no  politician,  and  demanded  that,  as  the 
garrison  were  in  arms,  they  should  sur 
render  as  prisoners-of-war.  This  was  an 
swered  by  an  absolute  refusal. 

*  "To  gain  time,"  says  Simms,  "was  of  the  utmost  con- 
;quence.  A  day  was  consumed  in  tendering  and  returning 
/jgs.  Prevost  was  deluded.  The  better  to  beguile  him,  a 
urge  hope  was  held  out  as  a  lure  to  expectation.  The  com 
missioners  were  instructed  to  propose  the  neutrality  of  South 
Carolina  during  the  war,  and  that  the  future  of  the  state 
should  be  determined  by  the  event  of  the  war. 

"It  has  been  assumed,  by  certain  writers,  that  this  offer 
was  made  in  good  faith  ;  aruHt  was  the  policy  of  Rutlcdge 
that  it  should  appear  so.  There  were  hundreds  of  loyalists 
in  the  city  who  found  means  to  communicate  by  night  with 
the  enemy.  It  was  necessary  that  people  and  army  should 
equally  believe  that  the  governor  and  his  council  were  in 
earnest,  in  order  that  Prevost  should  believe  it  also.  Mean 
time,  the  end  was  gained. 

"Prevost  discovered,  after  awhile,  that  the  negotiations 
did  not  include  the  army  ;  that,  even  if  the  city  were  surren 
dered,  the  troops  in  it  might  all  cross  to  the  east  side  of  the 
Cooper,  and  escape ;  and  that  he  should  only  possess  the 
shell  of  the  oyster.  He  demanded  lo  treat  with  the  military 
commandant,  who  was  Moultrie.  When  Rutledge  referred 
the  matter  finally  to  him,  he  exclaimed,  'I  will  save  the 
city  !'  and  his  exclamation  excited  the  people  to  enthusiasm. 
They  had  heard  of  the  negotiations.  They  were  roused  to 
mutiny,  people  and  army  ;  and,  had  the  governor  and  coun 
cil  persisted,  which  we  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  they 
designed  to  do,  they  would  have  been  torn  in  pieces." — Hin- 
lory  of  South  Carolina,  p.  233. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         PREVOST  RETREATS.— WESTERN"  FORTS  CAPTURED. 


693 


Provost  now  prepared  for  an  assault; 
but,  having  for  some  days  hesitated  to 
begin  operations, an  express  from  Lincoln 
was  in  the  meantime  captured.  This  sud 
denly  changed  his  plans ;  for,  learning 
that  the  American  general  was  rapidly 
advancing  toward  Charleston,  he  feared 
that  he  might  be  caught  between  two 
fires.  The  British  commander  now  pre 
cipitately  quitted  his  ground.  He  had 
scarcely  crossed  the  Ashley  river,  when 
Lincoln  arrived  at  Dorchester,  within  a 
short  distance  of  Charleston.  Prevost 
began  his  retreat,  by  means  of  the  boats 
at  his  command,  along  the  seacoast;  and, 
having  first  crossed  to  James's  island,  he 
finally  passed  over  to  John's  island, where 
he  awaited  the  reinforcements  which  he 
expected  to  receive  from  Sir  Henry  Clin- 
on  at  New  York. 

West  of  the  Alleghanies,  where  pio 
neers  from  the  seaboard  states  had  plant 
ed  sparse  settlements,  the  storm  of  war 
was  meanwhile  sweeping.  Border  forays 
had  occurred  soon  after  the  war  broke 
out;  and  finally,  in  1778,  a  regular  expe 
dition  ngainst  the  English  frontier  posts 
northward  of  the  Ohio  had  been  led  by 
Major  George  Rogers  Clarke,  the  most 
active  of  the  military  commanders  of  that 
region.  He  was  a  Virginian  by  birth,  and 
commanded  a  company  in  Governor  Lord 
Dunmore's  army  in  1774.  The  following 
year  he  went  to  Kentucky,  and  became 
the  leader  of  the  armed  settlers  in  that 


region.  He  was  in  active  service  most 
ol  the  time  till  the  close  of  the  Revolution. 
Subsequently,  he  was  created  a  major- 
general  in  the  armies  of  France,  and  was 
to  take  command  of  the  expedition  which 
Genet,  the  French  minister,  endeavored  to 
organize  in  Kentucky  against  the  Span 
iards  on  the  Mississippi,  but  which  failed. 
Clarke's  operations  in  1778  were  in  the 
present  states  of  Indiana  and  Illinois :  the 
British  posts  of  Kaskaskia,  Cohokia,  and 
Vincennes,  were  successively  captured. 

In  January,  1779,  the  commander  of 
the  enemy's  post  at  Detroit  retook  Vin 
cennes.  Clarke,  with  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  men,  penetrated  the  country 
from  the  Ohio,  in  February,  to  recover  it. 
Foi  a  whole  week  they  traversed  "  the 
drowned  lands"  of  Illinois,  suffering  ev 
ery  privation  from  wet,  cold,  and  hunger. 
When  they  arrived  at  the  Little  Wabash, 
where  the  forks  of  the  streams  are  three 
miles  apart,  they  found  the  intervening 
space  covered  with  snow-water  to  the 
depth  of  three  feet.  Over  a  distance  of 
five  miles  those  hardy  soldiers  travelled 
through  the  chilling  flood,  in  the  deep 
forest,  the  water  sometimes  up  to  their 
armpits.  At  last  they  appeared, 
with  their  faces  blackened  with 
gunpowder — a  fearful  apparition  —  be 
fore  the  fort  at  Vincennes.  Two  days 
j  afterward,  the  stars  and  stripes  were  wa 
ving  in  triumph  over  that  little  fortress.* 

*  Lossinp. 


Feb.  18, 


094 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


("PART    II. 


CHAPTER    LXXYTTL 

General  Lincoln  smacks  the  Enemy. — Forced  to  retire. — The  British  Policy  in  South  Carolina. — Devastation.— Plunder 
of  Property. — Negroes  er.tieej. — The  British  from  New  York  invade  Virginia. — Fall  of  Portsmouth  and  Norfolk. — 
Wanton  Devastation  and  Robbery. — Vain  Remonstrance  of  the  Assembly  of  Virginia. — Grand  Expedition  of  Sir 
Henry  Clinton. — He  takes  the  Fort  at  Stony  Point. — Verplanck's  Point  surrendered. — The  British  Fleet  ascends  the 
Hudson. — Washington  moves  his  army  toward  West  Point. — Disposition  of  the  American  Force. — General  Wayne  on 
the  Practicability  of  retaking  Stony  Point. — British  Expedition  against  Connecticut. — Plunder  of  New  Haven. — Gov 
ernor  Tryon's  Devastations  at  East  Haven. — Fail-field  in  Ashes. — Tryon's  Conscience  pricked. — Loss  to  Connecticut. 
— Tryon  glorified. — Wayne  in  Readiness. — Description  of  Stony  Point. — Negro  Pompey. — Plan  and  Disposition  of  the 
Attack. — The  Guards  gagged. — Fleury  in  Advance. — The  Struggle. — Wayne  down. —  He  is  carried  into  the  Fortress. — 
The  Victory. — A  Characteristic  Despatch. — The  Enemy's  Guns  turned. — The  British  Fleet  slip  Anchors. — Stony 
Point  abandoned. — The  Works  at  West  Point 


1779, 


PiiEVOST,  as  related  in  the  previ 
ous  chapter,  having  crossed  from 
James's  to  John's  island,  General  Lincoln 
on  leaving  Dorchester  moved  along  the 
mainland  until  he  came  opposite  to  the 
British  encampment,  from  which  he  was 
now  only  separated  by  Stono  inlet.  Pre- 
vost  having  marched  with  a  body  of  his 
troops  to  the  Savannah  river,  Lincoln 
took  the  occasion  of  attacking  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Maitland,  who  was  left  in  com 
mand  of  the  remnant  of  the  British  force 
on  the  island. 

The  attack  was  made  spirited 
ly  and  as  spiritedly  resisted.  The 
object  of  the  Americans,  however,  was  not 
gained,  and  they  were  forced  to  retreat 
to  the  mainland.  The  loss  on  both  sides 
was  about  equal. 

It  was  now  the  hottest  season  of  these 
southern  latitudes,  and  all  active  hostili 
ties  ceased.  Prevost  reached  Savannah, 
and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Maitland, remain 
ing  in  South  Carolina,  took  post  at  Beau 
fort,  on  the  island  ot  Port  Royal.  Lin- 
join,  with  his  force  diminished,  by  the  re- 


Juiie  20, 


turn  of  the  militia  to  their  homes, to  about 
eight  hundred  men,  established  himself 
at  Sheldon,  that  he  might  conveniently 
watch  the  movements  of  the  enemy  at 
Beaufort. 

The  British,  on  their  march  through 
South  Carolina;  did  not  pursue  the  same 
generous  policy  by  which  they  had  gained 
over  the  inhabitants  of  Georgia.  The 
plantations  were  wantonly  laid  waste,  and 
the  houses  plundered  of  plate  and  jewel 
ry.  The  negroes  were  tempted  by  prom 
ises  of  freedom  to  abandon  their  masters, 
and  they  came  in  hundreds  to  join  the 
British,  to  whom  they  revealed  the  hiding- 

•/  o 

places  of  the  planters'  property.  Three 
thousand  slaves  were  thus  lost  to  their 
masters ;  some  were  enrolled  in  the  Brit 
ish  ranks,  but  not  a  few  were  shipped  to 
to  the  West  Indies  and  sold.  South  Car 
olina  estimated  its  loss  in  labor  at  no  less 
than  two  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
dollars.* 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  still  intent  upon  his 
plan  of  detached  expeditions  to  ravage 

*  Lossing. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        VIRGINIA  INVADED.— THE  BRITISH  UP  THE  HUDSON.       695 


May  5, 


and  destroy,  determined  now  to  make  a 
descent  upon  Virginia.  He  accordingly 
selected  two  thousand  troops  for 
the  purpose,  and  put  them  un 
der  the  command  of  General  Matthews. 
Having  embarked  on  board  Sir  George 
Collier's  squadron,  they  reached  Hamp 
ton  roads  on  the  9th  of  May.  On  land 
ing,  Portsmouth,  which  was  defenceless, 
and  Norfolk,  which  was  still  in  ruins,  fell 
at  once  into  the  possession  of  the  inva 
ders.  The  troops  pushed  on  by  land,  and 
destroyed  houses,  stores,  and  property  of 
all  kinds,  at  Suffolk,  Kemp's  landing,  Gos- 
port,  Tanner's  creek,  and  elsewhere.  The 
British  men-of-war  were  no  less  active  in 
wrong  and  injury.  Within  the  fortnight 
during  which  the  expedition  continued 
on  the  coast,  the  damage  they  did  was 
enormous.  More  than  one  hundred  and 
thirty  vessels  of  all  kinds  (merchantmen, 
privateers,  and  men-of-war)  were  either 
burned  or  captured.  Seventeen  British 
prizes  and  three  thousand  hogsheads  of 
tobacco  were  seized  at  Portsmouth  and 
carried  away. 

The  assembly  of  Virginia  resolved  that 
'  the  governor  be  required  to  remonstrate 
to  the  British  commander  against  such  a 
cruel  and  unprecedented  manner  of  wa 
ging  war,  not  authorized  by  any  civilized 
nation."  Unfortunately,  the  more  pow 
erful  argument  of  men  and  arms  could 
not  be  urged ;  and  the  appeals  to  their 
humanity  were  not  listened  to  by  the  en 
emy  in  those  days  of  embittered  hostility. 
The  British  returned  to  New  York,  after 
an  absence  of  only  a  month,  when  other 
service  was  found,  equally  congenial  to 
those  heartless  depredators. 


Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  for  some  time 
projected  an  attack  upon  the  two  Ameri 
can  posts  at  Stony  Point  and  Verplanck's 
Point.  These  sites  on  the  Hudson  river, 
just  below  the  Highlands,  and  a  little 
south  of  Peekskill,  had  been  selected  for 
the  erection  of  forts,  in  order  to  guard 
the  mountain-passes  beyond,  and  King's 
ferry,  forming  the  most  convenient  com 
munication  between  the  eastern  and  mid 
dle  states.  At  Verplanck's  Point,  on  the 
east  side  of  the  river,  a  strong  fort  had 
already  been  completed,  and  was  now  gar 
risoned  by  seventy  men,  under  Captain 
Armstrong.  The  works  on  Stony  Point, 
opposite,  were  unfinished,  and  were  de 
fended  only  by  forty  soldiers. 

The  British  commander-in-chief  deter 
mined  to  lead  the  expedition  in  person; 
and,  having  added  to  his  party  some  of 
the  marauders  just  returned  fromVirginia, 

he  set  out  from  New  York  with 

,,  May  30, 

a  iieet  or  not  less  than  seventy 

sail  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  small  boats, 
carrying  five  thousand  troops.  General 
Vaughan,who  commanded  the  land-force, 
debarked  on  the  east  side  of  the  Hudson  ; 
while  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  advancing  far 
ther  up  the  river,  landed  with  some  ma 
rines  and  guns  on  the  western  bank,  and 
took  possession  of  the  unfinished 
fort  at  Stony  Point  without  op 
position.  Here  cannon  and  mortars  were 
dragged  during  the  night  to  the  summit 
of  the  rocky  heights.  The  next  morning, 
Clinton  opened  his  batteries,  and  poured 
a  storm  of  fire  upon  Verplanck's  Point, 
which  was  completely  commanded  from 
his  position.  In  the  meantime,  General 
Vaughan,  who  had  made  a  long  circuit 


May  31, 


690 


BATTLES  OF  AIM  ERICA. 


[l-ART    II. 


June 


through  the  hills,  arrived  and  invested 
the  fort  by  land.  The  garrison, 
finding  it  useless  to  resist,  sur 
rendered  themselves  as  prisoners-of-war. 
The  enemy  now  applied  themselves  dil 
igently  to  completing  and  strengthening 
the  works,  while  their  fleet  still  lingered 
up  the  Hudson.  Washington,  becoming 
solicitous  about  West  Point  and  the  other 
forts  above,  moved  his  army  in  that  di 
rection.  From  Middlebrook,  in  New  Jer 
sey,  he  inarched  to  Smith's  clove,  where 
he  left  the  main  bod}'  under  the  command 
of  General  Putnam,  and  established  his 
own  headquarters  at  New  Windsor,  where 
he  might  be  near  West  Point,  which  im 
portant  position  he  was  most  anxious  to 
secure.  General  M/Dougall  had  been  sub 
stituted,  in  command  of  this  latter  post, 
for  Putnam,  who  had  now  become  less 
efficient  from  the  effects  of  age.  Three 
brigades,  under  General  Heath,  recently 
transferred  from  Boston,  were  posted  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  river ;  Nixon's  was 
at  Constitution  island  ;  Parsons's  opposite 
to  West  Point,  with  instructions  to  send 
fatigue-parties  daily  across  the  river  to 
assist  in  constructing  the  works  yet  in 

O  \J 

progress;  and  Huntington's  on  the  prin 
cipal  road  leading  to  Fishkill. 

Washington,  conscious  of  the  impor 
tance  of  the  two  posts  lately  wrested  from 
him  by  the  British,  eagerly  sought  an  op 
portunity  to  recover  them.  To  General 
Wayne,  who  was  in  command  of  the  light- 
infantry  stationed  between  the  main  ar 
my  at  Smith's  clove  and  Fovt  Montgom 
ery,  Washington  wrote:  "The  importance 
of  the  two  posts  of  Verplanck's  Point  and 
Stony  Point  to  the  enemy  is  too  obvious 


to  need  explanation.  We  ought,  if  pos 
sible,  to  dispossess  them." 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  returned  with 
most  of  his  troops  and  ships  to  New  York, 
with  a  view  to  making  other  incursions ; 
and  Washington  thought  the  occasion 
might  be  convenient  for  the  execution 
of  his  design  upon  Stony  and  Verplanck's 
Points.  "It  is  a  matter  I  have  much  at 
heart,"  he  said,  "  to  make  some  attempts 
upon  these  posts  in  the  presentweak  state 
of  the  garrisons."  Wavne  was  then  en- 

O  */ 

treated  to  use  his  best  endeavors  to  ac 
quire  the  necessary  information,  and  to 
give  his  opinion  on  the  practicability  of 
a  surprise  of  one  or  both  of  these  places, 
especially  of  Stony  Point.  Wnyne's  reply 
was  prompt  and  emphatic.  "  General." 
answered  he,  "I'll  storm  h-11,  if  you  will 
only  plan  it!"  We  shall  see  hereafter 
how  far  his  actions  responded  to  his  words 
in  the  lesser  attempt  upon  Stony  Point. 
Throughout  the  whole  period  of  the 
Revolution,  and  especially  during  the  lat 
ter  years  of  the  contest,  the  inhabitants 
of  Connecticut  were  among  the  greatest 
sufferers  by  the  frequent  marauding  expe 
ditions  sent  out  from  the  enemy's  head 
quarters  at  New  York.  Thus,  early  in  the 

present  year  (1779),  the   cruel 

,  .    „  rn  -11          /> 

and  infamous  Iryon,  the  last  of 

the  royal  governors  of  New  York,  marched 
into  Connecticut  from  Kingsbridge,  with 
fifteen  hundred  British  regulars  and  Hes 
sians,  to  destroy  some  salt-works  belong 
ing  to  Americans  at  Horseneck.  and  to 

o 

attack  a  detachment  under  General  Put 
nam,  lying  at  Greenwich.  The  republi 
cans  were  dispersed,  and  Putnam  barely 
escaped  capture  by  some  dragoons,  who 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


TRYON'S   RAVAGES   IN   CONNECTICUT. 


697 


pursued  him  hi  his  flight  toward  Stain- 
ford.*  He  rallied  his  troops  at  the  latter 
place,  pursued  the  enemy  on  their  retreat 
through  Wesfchestcr  county,  recaptured 
a  quantity  or*  plunder  in  their  possession, 
and  took  thirty-eight  of  them  prisoners. 
The  British  government  having  delib- 

o  o 

erately  determined  upon  a  fresh  preda 
tory  expedition  into  Connecticut,  and  in 
structed  Sir  Henry  Clinton  to  that  effect, 
he  appointed  Governor  Tryon  to  the  con 
genial  command  of  the  marauders.  Twen 
ty-six  hundred  troops,  a  large  portion  of 
them  Hessian  mercenaries,  embarked  on 
board  of  about  fifty  transports,  and,  being 
escorted  by  the  Camilla  and  Scorpion 
men-of-war,  sailed  from  New  York  up  the 
East  river  and  Long-island  sound  for  New 
Haven.  Before  coming  to  anchor  in  the 
bay,  Governor  Tryon  concocted 
with  General  Garth, his  second  in 
command,  a  proclamation  to  the  inhabit 
ants  of  Connecticut.  In  this  document, 
the  people  were  urged  to  return  to  their 
duty  and  allegiance ;  and  all,  except  the 
civil  and  military  officers  of  the  govern 
ment,  should  they  remain  peaceably  at 
home,  were  promised  protection  in  per 
son  and  property.  The  proclamation  was 
sent  ashore,  and  the  next  day  the  British 
fleet  came  to  anchor  in  New-Haven  bay. 
Without  giving  the  people  an 
opportunity  to  consult  upon  the 
promises  offered  in  the  proclamation,  and 
to  agree  upon  action,  Governor  Tryon  at 

*  "  It  was  on  this  occasion,"  observes  Mr.  Lossing,  "  that 
Putnam's  alleged  descent  of  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  on  horse 
back,  took  place.  That  he  fled  down  a  steep  hill,  near  a 
flight  of  steps  that  had  been  formed  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  neighboring  inhabitants  in  taking  a  direct  way  to  a 
church  on  the  eminence,  there  can  be  no  doubt;  but,  that  he 
*-ent  all  the  way  down  the  steps,  is  a  pure  fiction." 


July  5. 


once  debarked  his  troops.  One  division, 
commanded  by  himself,  landed  at  East 
Haven;  the  other,  under  General  Garth, 
at.  West  Haven.  The  latter  pushed  on  to 
New  Haven,  being  somewhat  harassed  by 
the  militia  who  had  gathered  to  oppose 
him.  The  town  was  delivered  up  to  pro 
miscuous  plunder.  Whigs,  and  even  to- 
ries,  who  had  not  provided  themselves 
with  protections,  suffered  greatly.  Many 
of  the  inhabitants  deserted  their  homes, 
and  fled  with  their  wives  and  children  to 
East  rock,  a  hill  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  town ;  and  from  its  heights,  while 
trembling  for  their  lives,  they  looked 
down  upon  the  marauders  who  were  pil 
laging  and  destroying  their  property  in 
the  town.  The  houses  were  robbed  of 
plate  and  money ;  and  the  hogsheads  of 
rum,  molasses,  and  sugar,  in  which  New 
Haven  in  those  days  carried  on  so  large 
a  trade,  were  turned  out  of  the  West- 
Indian  warehouses,  and  wantonly  broken 
and  wasted.  Personal  collisions  occurred 
between  the  drunken  soldiers  and  the  in 
jured  inhabitants,  and  occasional  scenes 
of  bloodshed  and  cruelty  ensued. 

On  the  following  day,  the  militia  be 
gan  to  collect  in  such  threatening  force, 
that  Garth  drew  off  his  troops, 
having  burned  the  storehouses 
upon  the  wharf  before  his  departure.  At 
East  Haven,  during  the  same  day,  Tryon 
not  only  plundered  but  burnt  the  houses, 
and  destroyed  the  cattle.  He,  however, 
like  Garth,  was  frightened  away  from  fur 
ther  barbarity  by  the  threatening  aspect 
of  the  provoked  inhabitants. 

The  next  point  of  attack  was  Fairfield. 
On  the  fleet  coming  to  anchor  oft"  the 


July  6. 


698 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


n. 


July  7, 


town,  Try  on  sent  ashore  a  copy  of  his 
proclamation,  with  a  flag  of  trace  to  Colo 
nel  Whiting,  who  commanded 
the  militia,  and  giving  him  an 
hour  to  consider  upon  a  reply,  by  which 
he  might  save  the  town.  The  colonel  did 
not  long-  deliberate,  and  sent  back  an  nn- 

o 

swer  in  behalf  of  the  Connecticut  people, 
saying,  "The  flames  have  now  preceded 
their  answer  to  your  flag,  and  they  will 
persist  to  oppose  to  the  utmost  that  pow 
er  which  is  exerted  against  injured  inno 
cence."  This  reached  the  fleet  at  sunset. 
Throughout  that  night  and  the  ensuing 
morning,  the  British  plundered  and  de 
stroyed,  until  the  whole  town  of  Fairfield 
was  laid  in  ashes,  and  the  country  for  two 
miles  around  was  devastated. 

Norwalk  was  the  next  object  of  these 
ruthless  invaders,  and  its  fate  was  fully 

as  merciless  as  that  of  Fairfield. 
July  12, 

Churches  were  burnt  in  common 

with  the  houses.  Governor  Tryon,  feel 
ing  some  compunctions  of  conscience  for 
his  conduct,  justified  the  destruction  of 
the  dwellings  on  the  ground  that  the  oc 
cupants  fired  from  them  upon  his  troops, 
and  expressed  his  regret  at  "  the  loss  of 
two  places  of  public  worship  at  Fairfield, 
which  took  fire  unintentionally  by  the 
flakes  from  other  buildings  ;  and,"  he  add 
ed,  "  I  gave  strict  orders  for  the  preser 
vation  of  that  at  Norwalk."  Neverthe 
less,  it  is  said  that  while  Norwalk  was  in 
flames,  the  merciless  Tryon,  with  a  sorry 
imitation  of  Nero,  seated  himself  in  a  rock 
ing-chair  upon  a  neighboring  eminence, 
and  gloated  over  the  scene  of  desolation. 
It  is  also  asserted  that  when  he  had  com 
pleted  the  work  of  destruction  in  these 


pleasant  and  beautiful  villages,  he  boast 
ed  of  his  clemency,  declaring  that  the 
existence  of  a  single  house  was  a  monu 
ment  of  the  king's  mercy  !  Truly  has  it 
been  aid  that  Tryon  was  a  disgrace  to  the 
British  name.  He  was  a  fit  instrument 
for  an  infatuated  ministry;  and,  for  his 
wrong  doings  in  America,  before  and  du 
ring  the  Revolution,  the  English  people 
thoroughly  disliked  him. 

The  estimated  loss  to  (he  people  of 
Connecticut  by  these  depredations  was 
one  hundred  and  twelve  thousand  six 
hundred  and  forty-seven  dollars,  at  New 
Haven ;  one  hundred  and  eighty-one  thou 
sand  three  hundred  and  sixty-six  dollars, 
at  Fairfield  ;  and  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
eight  thousand  eight  hundred  and  sixty- 
eight  dollars,  at  Norwalk  —  comprising  a 
large  amount  in  those  days  of  limited 
means  and  simple  habits. 

Tryon  was  arrested  in  the  midst  of  his 
barbarous  raids  upon  Connecticut,  by  a 
recall  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  to  confer 
upon  an  attack  on  New  London,  which 
town,  being  a  great  harbor  of  refuge  for 
American  privateers,  it  was  determined 
to  treat  with  the  utmost  severity.  Sir 
Henry  had  been  persuaded  that  this  pet 
ty  system  of  depredations  which  he  was 
now  pursuing  would,  by  striking  at  the 
homes  and  property  of  the  people,  be 
more  effective  than  a  nobler  warfare.  Its 
effect,  however,  was  onl}7  to  increase  the 
feeling  of  hostility,  while  it  did  not  seri 
ously  diminish  the  means. 

Still,  the  government  of  Great  Britain 
did  not  seem  dissatisfied  with  the  result; 
and  the  minister,  Lord  George  Germain, 
wrote  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  say  ing :  "  The 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        STONY  POINT.— POMPEY,  THE  SHREWD  NEGRO  SPY. 


699 


expedition  into  Connecticut,  upon  which 
you  detached  Major-General  Trvon.  was 

•/  »7  «•  ' 

ably  planned  and  well  executed  ;  and  you 
will  acquaint  Major-General  Tryon,  and 
the  otticers  that  were  under  his  care,  that 
their  conduct  has  met  with  his  majesty's  ap 
probation."  His  lordship,  notwith  stand  ing, 
had  some  misgivings  about  the  barbari 
ties  practised,  for  he  adds :  "  I  can  not 
help  lamenting,  with  you,  that  the  be 
havior  of  the  rebels,  in  firing  from  their 
houses  upon  the  troops,  rendered  it  ne 
cessary  to  make  use  of  severities  that  are 
ever  painful  to  British  soldiers  to  inflict." 

General  Wayne  was  now  ready  for  the 
attack  upon  Stony  Point,  which,  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  suggestion  of  Wash 
ington,  he  had  been  contemplating  for 
some  time.  The  works  had  been  com 
pleted  by  the  British.  Standing  upon  a 
high  promontory  of  rock,  with  the  waters 
of  the  Hudson  on  three  sides,  a  morass 
(which  could  only  be  crossed  at  low  tide 
by  a  narrow  causeway)  on  the  fourth,  and 
strongly  fortified  by  art,  Stony  Point  now 
presented  a  formidable  fortress.  Fortifica 
tions,  compactly  built,  crowned  the  sum 
mit;  heavy  cannon  threatened  every  ap 
proach;  and  on  the  acclivities  were  two 
rows  of  abalLis.  A  garrison  of  sixhundred 
choice  British  troops,  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Johnson,  manned  the  works,  and 
several  English  gun-vessels  were  floating 
in  the  river  within  cannon-shot. 

Wayne  had  diligently  followed  the  ad 
vice  of  Washington,  and  in  conjunction 
with  the  brave  Major  Lee  had  examined 
in  person  the  position  of  the  fort.  Infor 
mation  had  been  carefully  sought  from 
deserters,  and  spies  had  been  sent  in  to 


gain  every  possible  intelligence.  To  a 
faithful  negro  belonging  to  a  Captain 
Lamb,  an  ardent  patriot  of  the  neighbor 
hood,  Wayne  was  indebted  for  the  most 
useful  services.  Pompey,  this  shrewd  ne 
gro,  succeeded  in  gaining  admission  into 
the  fort,  under  the  pretence  of  selling 
fruit,  and  soon  established  a  traffic  by 
which  he  was  enabled  to  make  frequent 
visits  without  exciting  suspicion.  As  the 
season  advanced,  Pompey  pleaded  that 
his  labors  in  the  field  (it  being  "hoeing- 
corn  time")  would  prevent  his  visits  by 
day;  whereupon,  as  he  expected,  he  was 
desired  to  make  them  by  night.  He  was 
accordingly  provided  with  the  counter 
sign,  "The  fort  is  our  own"  in  order  that 
he  might  be  readily  admitted  at  all  hours 
with  his  indispensable  supplies  for  the  re 
freshment  of  the  garrison.  Pompey  thus 
acquired  the  most  important  information, 
of  which  Wayne  was  glad  to  avail  him 
self,  and  chose  him  as  his  guide  in  the 
cornirrg  assault.* 

General  Wayne  was  now  stationed  at 
Sandy  beach,  distant  about  four 
teen  miles  from  Stony  Point,  and 
here  he  was  joined  at  this  time  by  the 
Massachusetts  infantry  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Hale.  Thus  reinforced,  Wayne 
marched  at  noon,  in  the  height  of  the 
sweltering  heat  of  the  midsummer  sun, 
over  craggy  hills  and  through  narrow  de 
files  and  deep  morasses,  to  within  a  mile 
and  a  half  of  the  fort.  So  difficult  and 
narrow  was  the  route,  that  for  the  great 
est  part  of  the  way  the  troops  were  forced 
to  move  in  single  file,  and  dixl  not  reach 
their  destination  until  eight  o'clock  in  the 

*  Lossing. 


July  15, 


700 


BATTLES   OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


evening.  Here,  as  they  came  Vipon  the 
ground,  Wayne  formed  his  force.  The 
regiments  of  Colonels  Febigerand  Meigs, 
and  Lieutenant- Colonel  Bale's  detach 
ment  of  Massachusetts  infantry,  composed 
the  right  column ;  and  Colonel  Butler's 
regiment,  with  the  two  companies  of  Ma 
jor  Murfey,  formed  the  left.  One  hun 
dred  and  fifty  men  volunteered  to  form 
the  van  of  the  right,  and  were  placed  un 
der  the  command  of  the  gallant  French 
man,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fleury.  A  hun 
dred  men,  under  Major  Stewart,  offered 
themselves  for  the  same  position  on  the 
left.  Twenty  picked  men  were  selected 
as  a  forlorn  hope  to  precede  each  van,  and 
to  remove  the  abattis  and  other  obstruc 
tions ;  one  party  was  led  by  Lieutenant 
Gibbon,  and  the  other  by  Lieutenant 
Knox.  Three  hundred  men,  under  Gen 
eral  Muhlenberg,  were  to  remain  behind 
as  a  reserve,  in  case  support  should  be 
required,  or  a  retreat  become  necessary. 
General  Wayne  now  rode  forward  with 
his  officers  to  reconnoitre,  and,  on  his  re 
turn,  prepared  to  begin  the  assault  at  half- 
past  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  the  time 
fixed  upon.  Before  moving,  Wayne  ex 
horted  his  men  to  obey  his  injunctions 
strictly,  and  not  on  any  account  to  fire, 
but  to  trust  entirely  to  their  bayonets. 
Pompey's  services  were  now  put  in  re 
quisition,  and  he  led  the  way,  accompa 
nied  by  two  stout  and  active  soldiers,  dis 
guised  as  farmers.  On  coming  up  to  the 
first  sentry,  the  negro  repeated  the  coun 
tersign;  and,  while  engaging  him  in  talk, 
Pompey's  stalwart  companions  suddenly 
sprang  upon  the  man  and  gagged  him. 
The  next  sentinel  was  caught  and  treated 


m  the  same  way.  Thus  the  troops,  with 
out  alarming  the  enemy,  advanced  to  the 
causeway,  where  they  were  detained  im- 
til  past  midnight,  in  consequence  of  the 
fullness  of  the  tide. 

Once  across  the  causeway,  the  columns 
of  the  right  and  left  advanced  to  their 
work.  Wayne  himself  headed  the  for 
mer,  and,  repeating  his  order  to  his  men 
to  rely  entirely  upon  their  bayonets,  led 
them  on.  The  van  had  arrived  within 
pistol-shot  of  the  pickets  on  the  heights  of 
the  promontory  before  the  guards  were 
roused,  when  their  fire  alarmed  the  whole 
garrison,  which  soon  began  to  pour  down 
a  fire  of  musketry  and  grape.  The  Amer 
icans,  however,  obedient  to  command,  did 
not  return  a  shot,  but  pushed  steadily  on 
with  fixed  bayonets,  and  forced  their  way 
in  spite  of  every  obstacle.  Both  the  right 
and  left  columns  met  in  the  centre  of  the 
enemy's  works  almost  at  the  same  mo 
ment. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Fleury  was  the  first 
to  enter  and  strike  the  British  standard, 
closely  followed  by  Major  Posey,  his  sec 
ond  in  command,  who  sprang  upon  the 
ramparts,  shooting  the  enemy's  counter 
sign,  "  The  fort  is  our  oivn !"  Wayne,  while 
advancing  up  the  ascent,  was  struck  on 
the  head  by  a  musket-ball,  and  brought 
to  the  ground.  Thinking  himself  mortal 
ly  wounded,  he  cried  to  his  aid-de-camp, 
who  came  to  his  assistance,  "  Carry  me 
into  the  fort,  and  let  me  die  at  the  head 
of  my  column  !"  He  was  lifted  up  and 
borne  into  the  fortress  in  the  midst  of  his 
victorious  troops.  His  wound  proved  less 
serious  than  he  had  at  first  supposed,  and 
the  general  revived  in  time  to  share  in 


REVOLUTIONARY. I       STONY  POINT  REOCCUPIED   BY  THE   BRITISH. 


7ul 


the  immediate  exultation  on  the  success 
of  his  enterprise. 

The  British  yielded  themselves  up  as 
prisoners-of-war;  and,  before  the  morning 
dawned,  Wayne  was  enabled  to  send  in 
telligence  of  his  victory  to  Washington,  in 
this  characteristic  despatch  :  — 

"  STON-V  POINT.  July  16,  1779.  ) 
"  Two  o'clock,  A.  At.       \ 

"  DEAR  GENERAL  :  The  fort  and  garrison, 
with  Colonel  Johnson,  are  ours.  Our  offi 
cers  and  men  behaved  like  men  who  are 
determined  to  be  free. 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  ANTHONY  WAYNE." 

Next  morning,  General  Wayne  turned 
the  guns  of  the  captured  fortress  on  the 
works  ol  Fort  Lafayette  at  Verplanck's 
Point  opposite,  and  upon  the  English  ves 
sels  in  the  river.  The  latter  were  forced 
to  slip  their  cables  and  move  down  the 
stream.  The  former  stood  fire ;  for  the 
detachment  of  Americans  under  General 
Robert  Howe,  which  had  been  ordered 
to  attack  the  fort  at  Verplanck's  Point, 
in  co-operation  with  Wayne,  had  failed  | 
in  consequence  of  neglect  to  bring  with 
them  the  implements  necessary  for  the  | 
success  of  the  enterprise. 

The  loss  of  the  Americans  amounted 
to  fifteen  killed  and  eighty-three  wound 
ed;  that  of  the  British  to  sixty-three  in 
killed,  while  the  commander  and  all  the 
garrison  (numbering  fiv.e  hundred  and 
forty-three  officers  and  men)  were  taken 
prisoners.  The'  forty  gallant  men  who 
had  volunteered  to  lead  the  van  of  the 
Americans  were  the  greatest  sufferers  in 


the  assault.  Their  daring  officers,  Lieu 
tenants  Gibbon  and  Knox,  were  especial 
ly  commended  by  Wayne  in  his  despatch 
for  "  their  distinguished  bravery." 

On  hearing  of  the  fall  of  Stony  Point, 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  immediately  broke  up 
his  conference  at  Throgg's  Point,  where 
in  conjunction  with  Tryon  he  was  plan 
ning  an  expedition  against  New  London  ; 
and,  abandoning  that  scheme,  he  hurried 
up  the  Hudson  with  reinforcements.'  It 
was  hoped  that  Washington  would  risk  a 
battle  for  the  possession  of  Stony  Point ; 
but,  finding  that  it  could  not  be  held  with 
less  than  fifteen  hundred  men — a  force 
which  he  could  ill  spare  from  his  army — 
the  commander-in-chief  decided  to  aban 
don  it. 

The  fort,  having  been  dismantled  of  its 
cannon,  and  its  stores  removed,  was  de 
stroyed  ;  whereupon  the  enemy 
resumed  possession  of  the  site, 
and  reconstructed  fortifications  of  greater 
strength  than  ever. 

Washington,  solicitous  for  the  safety 
of  West  Point,  now  removed  his  head 
quarters  to  that  post,  and  urged  on  the 
completion  of  the  works  in  progress,  un 
der  the  supervision  of  Kosciusko.  The 
army  was  stationed,  in  two  divisions,  in 
the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson,  where  it 
remained  until  going  into  winter-quarters 
in  December.  The  right  wing,  consisting 
of  the  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  and  Vir 
ginia  troops,  were  on  the  west  side  of  the 
river,  and  commanded  by  General  Put 
nam.  The  left  wing,  made  up  of  New- 
England  troops,  under  General  Heath, 
rested  on  the  east  side. 


July  18. 


702 


BATTLES   OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


CHAPTER    LXXIX. 

Paul  Jones  in  France. — He  gets  a  Squadron. — The  Bon  Homme  Richard. — Sailing  of  the  Ships. — Refitting  at  Brest. — 
A  British  Cruiser  taken. — L'Orient. — The  Richard  all  alone. — A  Hundred  American  Tars. — First-Lieutenant  Dale. — 
A  Fresh  Cruise. — Occasional  Prizes. — Attempt  on  Leith. — A  Gale. — The  Bon  Homme  Riehurd  aoandoned  by  her 
Consorts. — A  Daring  Plan. — Falls  in  with  a  British  Fleet. — The  Fight  begins. — Jones  abandoned  by  Captain  Landais. 
— The  Serapis. — A  Close  Hug. — The  Enemy  attempt  to  board. — The  Repulse. — The  Man  in  the  Tops  — An  Explo 
sion. — Terrible  Havoc. — A  Friend  turned  Enemy. — Panic. — Treason.— Quarter. — Fierce  Oaths. — The  Fight  renewed 
— Fire. — The  Serapis  strikes  her  Flag. — The  Richard  abandoned,  and  goes  down.— Jones  hoists  his  Flag  on  board  the 
Serapis. — The  Blood  spilt. 


1779, 


PAUL  JONES'S  spirited  and  success 
ful  cruise  in  the  Ranger,  on  the  Eng 
lish  coast,  had  won  for  him  great  renown 
in  France ;  and  consequently  he  found 
his  ambitious  projects  readily  seconded  by 
the  French  government.  A  small  squad 
ron,  consisting  of  the  Duras,  the  Alliance, 
the  Pallas,  the  Cerf,  and  the  Vengeance, 
was  now  placed  under  his  command.  The 
Alliance  was  the  only  American-built  ship 
among  them,  but  they  were  all  to  carry 
the  American  ensign,  and  were  to  be  gov 
erned  and  considered  in  every  respect  as 
American  vessels. 

Benjamin  Frankli-n,  then   the  United 
States  minister  at  the  court  of  Versailles, 
had  rendered  effective  aid  in  obtaining 
and  fitting  out  the  squadron ;  and  Paul 
Jones  complimented  the  philosopher  by 
changing  the  name  of  his  Hag-ship,  the 
Duras,  to  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  a  free 
rendering  in   French  of  the  proverbial  ' 
"Poor  Richard."     This  vessel  had  been  an  | 
Indiaman,  and  was  clumsily  constructed,  • 
with  an  old-fashioned  poop,  which  rose 
from  the  stern  like  a  tower.     She  was 
originally  a  single-decked  ship,  but  Jones 
caused  twelve  ports  to  be  cut  in  the  gun 


room,  where  he  mounted  six  old  eigh teen- 
pounders,  which  had  done  service  in  the 
French  navy  for  thirty  years.  Her  whole 
armament  amounted  to  forty-two  guns, 
of  varying  weights,  but  generally  rattier 
light. 

The  crew  consisted  of  a  motley  mix 
ture  of  English,  Scotch,  Portuguese,  Amer 
icans,  Germans.  Spaniards,  Swedes,  Ital 
ians,  Malays,  and  channel-islanders.  The 
officers,  however,  were  for  the  most  part 
Americans.  One  hundred  and  thirty-five 
marines,  hardly  less  diversified  in  their 
nationality  than  the  crew,  were  taken  on 
board,  chiefly  to  assist  in  preserving  the 
discipline  of  the  vessel.  The  Alliance  was 
the  best  ship  in  the  fleet;  but,  as  related 
in  a  previous  chapter,*  she  was  command 
ed  by  Captain  Landais,  a  Frenchman,  and 
failed  under  his  handling  to  be  of  the  <>i- 
fective  service  that  was  expected.  All  the 
other  vessels,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Bon  Homme  liichard,  were  likewise  under 
French  commanders. 

The  squadron  got  under  weigh  from 

L'Orient,  and,  having  convoyed 

June  19. 

some  transports  and  coasters  to 

*  See  page  164- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


PAUL  JONES  IN   THE  NORTH  SEA. 


703 


•  heir  destined  ports  in  France,  prepared 
for  a  cruise.  While  lying- to,  the  Alli 
ance,  by  clumsy  management,  got  foul 
of  the  Richard,  losing  by  the  collision  her 
own  mizzen-mast,  and  carrying  away  the 
head,  cut-water,  and  jib-boom,  of  her  con 
cert.  They  were  now  forced  to  return 
to  L'Orient  for  repairs. 

While  making  for  port,  the  Cerf  was 
sent  in  chase  of  a  strange  sail,  and  suc 
ceeded  in  coming  up  with  what  proved 
to  ue  a  small  English  cruiser  of  sixteen 
guns.  After  a  sharp  action  of  about  an 
hour,  the  enemy  was  forced  to  strike  her 
flag  •,  but  the  Cerf  had  to  abandon  her,  on 
the  appearance  of  a  larger  British  vessel, 
and  made  her  way  to  L'Orient,  with  a  loss 
of  several  men  killed  and  wounded. 

The  rest  of  the  squadron,  in  the  mean 
time,  had  caught  sight  of  three  British 
men-of-war,  which  bore  down  before  the 
wind  as  if  disposed  to  engage  ;  but,  prob 
ably  frightened  by  the  apparent  magni 
tude  of  the  Richard,  which  stood  high  out 
of  the  water,  and  looked  like  a  two-decker, 
they  soon  hauled  up  and  made  off  with 
all  the  sail  they  could  carry,  and  thus  es 
caped. 

The  Richard  was  now  left  alone,  the 
Alliance  and  the  Pallas  having  parted 
company,  and  the  Vengeance  having  been 
sent  into  port.  Captain  Jones,  however, 
continued  to  look  out  for  an  antagonist, 
and  soon  fell  in  with  two  British  cruisers  ; 
hut,  after  first  threatening  to  engage,  they 
made  off  again,  as  if  alarmed,  like  their 
countrymen  on  the  previous  occasion,  by 
the  iormidable  aspect  of  the  pretentious 
American.  Jones  now7  made  the  best  of 
Ins  way  to  his  old  anchorage,  under  the 


isle  of  Groix,  off  L'Orient.     Here  the  en 
tire  squadron  was  reunited. 

Jones  was  detained  by  the  necessary 
repairs  to  his  vessel,  the  session  of  a  coiir* 
of  inquiry  appointed  to  investigate  the 
conduct  of  Landais  (of  the  Alliance)  in 
running  foul  of  the  Richard,  and  other 
matters,  for  more  than  six  weeks.  In  the 
meantime,  however,  he  ha,d  the  good  for 
tune  to  gain  a  very  welcome  accession  to 
his  crew  by  the  arrival  in  France  of  more 
than  a  hundred  American  sailors.  These 
were  men  who  had  been  held  as  prison 
ers  in  England,  and  were  now  exchanged. 
They  almost  to  a  man  joined  the  Ameri 
can  squadron,  and  were  chiefly  divided 
between  the  Richard  and  the  Alliance. 
Jones  now7  counted  no  less  than  three 
hundred  and  eighty  souls  on  board  his 
ship,  and  nearly  a  hundred  of  these  were 
Americans,  as  were  all  his  quarter-deck 
officers,  with  the  exception  of  himself  and 
a  midshipman.  A  young  American  offi 
cer,  of  the  name  of  Richard  Dale,  who 
had  made  his  escape  from  an  English 
prison,  and  joined  the  squadron  on  its 
first  cruise,  won  so  greatly  the  esteem  of 
his  commander,  that  he  was  now  pro 
moted  to  the  rank  of  first-lieutenant. 

The  squadron  at  length  put  to 
sea  for  the  second  time,  with  a 
reinforcement  of  two  French  privateers, 
the  Monsieur  and  the  Granville.  A  dis 
pute  about  the  division  of  a  prize  taken 
a  few  days  after  sailing,  however,  caused 
the  commander  of  the  Monsieur  to  leave, 
which  was  felt  to  be  a  serious  loss,  as  his 
ship  mounted  no  less  than  forty  guns. 
With  various  incidents,  and  an  occasional 
success  in  taking  a  prize,  the  squadron 


Aiiff,  14, 


704 


BATTLES   OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Sept,  13, 


(with  the  exception  of  the  Cerf,  which 
had  returned  to  France)  sailed  around 
Ireland  and  Scotland,  until  it  came  off 
the  frith  of  Forth 

Jones,  having  learned  that  a 
twenty-gun  ship  and  two  or  three 
men-of-war  cutters  were  lying  off  Leith, 
the  port  of  Edinburgh,  two  miles  distant, 
determined  to  make  a  descent  upon  the 
town.  He  accordingly  beat  into  the  frith 
with  the  Richard,  until  he  arrived  within 
gun-shot  of  Leith,  when  he  got  out  his 
boats  and  manned  them.  His  first-lieu 
tenant,  Dale,  who  was  to  command  the 
sailors  on  the  occasion,  was  about  receiv 
ing  his  last  orders,  when  a  sudden  squall 
struck  the  ships  and  nearly  dismasted 
them.  Jones  strove  to  keep  his  ground, 
with  the  view  of  carrying  out  his  pur 
pose,  but  the  wind  became  too  strong,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  bear  up.  A  severe  gale 
followed,  in  the  course  of  which  all  the 
vessels  were  driven  into  the  North  sea, 
and  one  of  the  prizes  foundered. 

Another  still  more  daring  enterprise 
was  planned  by  the  bold  commodore,  but 
his  French  subordinates  strenuously  pro 
tested  against  carrying  it  into  effect.  The 
scheme  has  never  been  explained,  but  it 
is  said  to  have  been  warmly  sanctioned 
by  every  officer  from  lieutenant  to  mid 
shipman.  Apparently  with  the  fear  that 
Jones  would  not  be  deterred  from  his 
project  by  the  opinions  of  his  colleagues, 
two  of  them  determined  to  thwart  him 
by  their  acts,  and  accordingly  the  com 
manders  of  the  Pallas  and  the  Vengeance 
sailed  off  with  their  ships.  As  the  com 
modore  could  ill  spare  any  of  his  little 
squadron,  he  reluctantly  abandoned  his 


Sept,  23 


scheme,  and  sailed  to  the  south,  to  over 
take  the  absentees. 

OffWhitby.  on  the  coast  of  Yorkshire, 
the  Pallas  and  the  Vengeance  again  joined 
company  with  the  commodore,  and  with 
the  aid  of  the  latter  he  entered  the  Hum 
her  and  took  and  destroyed  a  number  of 
vessels.  The  wdiole  coast  now  became 
greatly  alarmed, and  the  inhabitants  were 
so  frightened,  that  many  of  them  began 
to  bury  their  plate  and  money.  With 
this  general  excitement  on  shore,  Jones 
thought  it  advisable  to  keep  off  the  land, 
and  he  accordingly  bore  away  in  the  di 
rection  of  Flamborough  head.  While 
steering  toward  the  north,  two  sails  were 
made,  which  turned  out  to-  be  the  Alli 
ance  and  the  Pallas;  and  on  the 
second  day  after  leaving  the 
mouth  of  the  Humber,  occurred  the  most, 
memorable  event  in  the  career  of  Paul 
Jones. 

The  wind  was  southerly  and  light,  ami 
the  sea  smooth,  as  the  American  squadron 
—  now  composed  of  the  Richard,  the  Al 
liance,  the  Pallas,  and  the  Vengeance  — 
gathered  together.  Soon  a  fleet  of  more 
than  forty  sail  was  seen  stretching  out 
from  behind  Flamborough  head,  and  turn 
ing  down  toward  the  straits  of  Dover. 
It  was  mainly  composed  of  traders  re 
turning  from  the  Baltic,  under  convoy  of 
the  Serapis  (forty-four),  Captain  Bicliard 
Pearson,  and  the  Countess  of  Scarborough 
(twenty-two),  Captain  Piercy.  The  for 
mer  was  a  new  ship,  with  a  good  reputa 
tion  as  a  sailer.  She  carried  fifty  guns 
twenty  eigh teen-pounders  on  the  lowei 
gim-deck,twenty  nine-pounders  on  the  up 
per,  and  ten  six-pounders  on  her  quarter 


I   i 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  BON  HOMME  RICHARD  AND  THE  SERAPIS. 


705 


deck  and  forecastle,  and  was  manned  by 
a  regular  man-of-war's  crew,  numbering 
three  hundred  and  twenty,  of  whom  some 
fifteen  were  Lascars.  The  Scarborough 
was  not  a  naval  vessel, but  had  been  armed 
and  was  now  being  temporarily  used  as 
such. 

Commodore  Jones,  on  discovering  the 
character  of  the  fleet,  hoisted  a  signal  for 
the  rest  of  the  squadron  to  begin  a  gen 
eral  chase,  and  crossed  royal  yards  on 
board  his  own  vessel.  The  English  fleet 
of  merchantmen  were  alarmed  by  these 
signs  of  hostility,  and,  hurriedly  tacking 
together,  firin<»;  alarm-guns,  letting  fly 

o  o  o  o          •/ 

their  top-gallant  sheets,  and  making  oth 
er  signals  of  the  danger  they  were  in, 
ran  to  leeward  or  sought  shelter  closer 
in  with  the  land.  The  Serapis,  on  the 
contrary,  signalling  the  Scarborough  to 
follow,  hauled  boldly  out  to  sea,  until  she 
got  far  enough  to  windward,  when  she 
tacked  and  stood  in  shore  again,  to  cover 
her  convoy.*  Captain  Pearson  had  been 
informed,  by  the  bailiff  of  the  town  of 
Scarborough,  of  the  presence  of  the  Amer 
ican  squadron,  and  was  accordingly  on 
his  guard. 

The  Alliance,  being  the  fastest  sailer, 
took  the  lead  in  the  chase.  As  she  moved 
ahead,  Captain  Landais  spoke  the  Pallas, 
and  told  her  commander  that,  if  the  ene 
my  proved  to  be  a  fifty-gun  ship,  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  to  try  to  get  out 
of  his  way.  Landais  acted  accordingly; 
for  he  had  no  sooner  closed  in  sufficiently 
with  the  land  to  discover  the  size  of  the 
Serapis,  than  he  hauled  off  again.  His 

*  Cooper,  whose  ;iccount  we  follow,  as  being  the  most 
authentic  on  record. 

89 


example  was  also  followed  by  the  Pallas ; 
but,  as  her  commander  conducted  himself 
so  well  in  the  subsequent  part  of  the  ac 
tion,  it  has  been  readily  allowed  that  he 
was  under  the  supposition,  as  he  afterward 
declared,  that  the  crew  of  the  Richard 
(since  she  was  observed  heading  for  the 
land)  had  mutinied,  and  were  running  off 
with  her. 

It  was  now  quite  dark,  and  Jones  was 
obliged  to  use  a  night-glass  in  order  to 
follow  the  movements  of  the  enemy.  The 
Richard,  however,  stood  steadily  on,  and 
about  half-past  seven  she  came  up  with 
the  Serapis,  while  the  Scarborough  was  a 
short  distance  to  leeward.  The  American 
ship  was  to  windward,  and,  as  she  slowly 
drew  near,  Captain  Pearson  hailed  her: 
"  What  ship  is  that  ?"  The  answer  was, 
"  Come  a  little  nearer,  and  I'll  tell  you." 
"  What  are  you  laden  with  ?"  rejoined  the 
Englishman.  "  Round,  grape,  and  double- 
headed  shot!"  was  the  ready-witted  re 
sponse  to  what  was  considered  by  a  man- 
of-war  a  contemptuous  demand  ;  and  the 
two  ships,  without  further  parley,  poured 
in  their  broadsides  almost  simultaneously. 

The  discharge  proved  terribly  disas 
trous  to  the  Richard  ;  for  two  of  the  eigh- 
teen-pounders  which  Jones  had  caused  to 
be  placed  in  the  gun-room,  and  from  which 
he  had  expected  so  much  good  service, 
burst  on  the  first  fire,  killing  many  of  the 
men,  and  blowing  up  the  deck  above.  All 
faith  in  these  old  eighteen-pounders  be 
ing  now  gone,  the  men  were  ordered  to 
abandon  them,  and  trust  entirely  to  their 
other  guns.  The  inequality  of  the  con 
test  was  in  this  way  greatly  increased,  for 

«/     o  »/ 

it  reduced  the  armament  of  the  Richard 


706 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


to  nearly  a  third  less  than  that  of  her  an 
tagonist. 

The  Richard,  having  backed  her  top 
sails,  exchanged  several  broadsides,  when 
she  filled  again  and  shot  ahead  of  the 
Serapis,  which  ship  luffed  across  her  stern, 
and  came  up  on  the  weather-quarter  of 
her  antagonist,  taking  the  wind  out  of 
her  sails,  and  in  her  turn  passing  ahead. 

In  the  meantime,  while  the  two  ships 
were  engaged  closely  and  furiously,  the 
Scarborough  approached ;  but  in  the  dark 
ness  of  the  night  not  being  able  to  distin 
guish  friend  from  foe,  she  edged  away, 
without  firing  a  shot.  The  Scarborough, 
however,  exchanged  broadsides  with  the 
Alliance  at  a  great  distance,  and  was  at 
lf.ot  brought  tc  close  quarters  by  the  Pal 
las,  and,  after  a  struggle  of  about  an  hour, 
forced  CD  strike  her  flag. 

Let  us,  however,  return  to  the  two 
main  antagonists.  "  As  the  Serapis  kept 
her  luff,"  says  Cooper,  "  sailing  and  work 
ing  better  than  the  Richard,  it  was  the 
intention  of  Captain  Pearson  to  pay  broad 
off  across  the  latter's  forefoot,  as  soon  as 
he  had  got  far  enough  ahead  ;  but,  ma 
king  the  attempt,  and  finding  he  had  not 
room,  he  put  his  helm  hard  down  to  keep 
clear  of  his  adversary,  when  the  double 
movement  brought  the  two  ships  nearly 
in  a  line,  the  Serapis  leading.  By  these 
uncertain  evolutions  the  English  ship  lost 
some  of  her  way;  while  the  American, 
having  kept  her  sails  trimmed,  not  only 
closed,  but  actually  ran  aboard  of  her  an 
tagonist,  bows  on,  a  little  on  Jier  weather- 
quarter."  At  this  moment,  Jones  cried 
out:  "Well  done,  my  brave  lads;  we've 
fc'ot  her  now!  Throw  on  board  the 


grappling-irons,  and  stand  by  for  board 


ing! 

A 


As,  during  these  manoeuvres,  not  a  shot 
had  been  fired  for  some  time,  Captain 
Pearson  hailed  his  antagonist,  demanding, 
"  Have  you  struck  your  colors?" — "I have 
not  yet  begun  to  fiyht  /"  was  Jones's  answer. 
The  chains  of  the  grappling-irons  having 
been  cut  away,  and  the  yards  of  the  Rich 
ard  being  braced  back,  while  the  sails  of 
the  Serapis  were  filled,  the  two  vessels 
separated.  As  soon  as  she  was  at  a  suffi 
cient  distance,  the  Serapis  put  her  helm 
hard  down,  laid  all  aback  forward,  shiv 
ered  her  after-sails,  and  wore  short  round 
on  her  heel,  or  was  box-hauled,  with  a 
view,  most  probably,  of  1  n  (Ting  up  athwart 
the  bow  of  her  enemy,  in  order  to  rake 
her.  "  In  this  position,  the  Richard  would 
have  been  fighting  her  starboard  and  the 
Serapis  her  larboard  guns ;  but  Commo 
dore  Jones,  by  this  time,  was  conscious 
of  the  hopelessness  of  success  against  so 
much  heavier  metal ;  and,  after  having 
backed  astern  some  distance,  he  filled  on 
the  other  tack,  luffing  up  with  the  inten 
tion  of  meeting  the  enemy  as  he  came 
to  the  wind,  and  of  laying  him  athwart 
hawse."* 

In  the  smoke  and  confusion  —  as  the 
firing  continued  the  whole  time  from 
deck  to  main-top  —  there  was  necessarily 
great  difficulty  in  manoeuvring,  and  the 
two  vessels  ran  foul  again,  the  bowsprit 
of  the  Serapis  passing  over  the  Richard's 
poop.  As  the  weather  was  mild,  neither 
ship  had  much  headway,  and  no  damage 
was  done  by  the  collision.  Paul  Jones, 
having  now  got  the  enemy  fast,  resolved 

*  Cooper. 


REVOLUTION  ART.  J 


THE  DESPERATE  FIGHT. 


707 


not  to  let  him  go  again  ;  and  accordingly, 
taking  some  lashings,  he  fastened  with 
his  own  hands  the  head-gear  of  the  Sera- 
pis  to  the  Richard's  mizzen-mast.  Stacey, 
the  sailing-master,  a  Yankee  skipper,  was 
at  Jones's  side,  assisting  him,  and  was 
swearing  with  all  the  energy  of  an  old 
tar.  "  Mr.  Stacey,"  exclaimed  the  commo- 

«/  J 

dore,  who  was  ordinarily  not  very  honey- 
tongued  himself, "  this  is  no  time  for  swear 
ing — you  may  be  the  next  moment  in 
eternity ;  but  let  us  do  our  duty."* 

The  Serapis,  being  before  the  wind, 
now  had  her  hull  swung  round  by  her 
after-sails,  and  the  two  ships  fell  close 
alongside  of  each  other.  The  jib-boom, 
however,  of  the  Serapis,  which  Jones  had 
lashed,  gave  way  in  the  strain ;  but  her 
spare  anchor  having  got  hooked  into  the 
quarter  of  the  Richard,  and  additional 
lashings  got  out,  she  became  faster  than 
ever. 

Captain  Pearson,  finding  that  the  ves 
sels  were  foul,  dropped  an  anchor,  with 
the  hope  that,  as  the  current  was  setting 
strong,  his  enemy  might  drift  clear  of 
him ;  since,  knowing  the  superiority  of 
his  ship,  he  preferred  a  regular  combat 
with  his  guns  to  a  close  hand-to-hand 
struggle.  The  vessels,  however,  were  too 
fast  to  part  thus.  The  hulls  were  jammed 

* 

close  alongside ;  the  yards  were  inter 
locked,  so  that  the  sailors  of  the  Richard 
could  pass  from  her  maintop  to  the  fore- 
top  of  the  Serapis  ;  strong  lashings  bound 
the  ships  close  together  fore  and  aft ;  and 
the  mouldings  and  ornamental  work  of 
the  bows  and  sterns  of  the  two  had  got 
so  inextricably  caught,  that  all  hope  of 

*  Analectic  Magazine,  vol.  viii.     An  eye-witness. 


working  clear  had  to  be  given  up.  Find 
ing  themselves  thus  locked  in  a  fatal  em 
brace,  the  English  strove  to  board,  but 
were  driven  back. 

The  fight  now  raged  fiercely.  The  low 
er  ports  of  the  Serapis,  which  had  been 
closed  as  she  swung,  to  prevent  boarding, 
were  now  blown  off.  as  there  was  no  room 
between  the  closely-jammed  hulls  to  raise 
them.  The  guns  were  actually  so  close 
to  the  sides  of  the  Richard,  that  in  load 
ing  them  the  rammers  projected  into  her 
ports.  These  heavy  guns  of  the  Serapis, 
with  their  muzzles  thrust  into  the  very 
ports  of  her  enemy,  cleared  all  before 
them ;  and  the  Americans  were  obliged 
to  forsake  their  main-deck,  and  gather 
above.  Some  mounted  the  upper  deck 
and  forecastle,  while  others  got  upon  the 
yards  and  into  the  tops,  whence  they  kept 
up  a  constant  fire  of  musketry,  and  threw 
hand-grenades. 

The  enemy  was  having  the  fight  all 
to  himself  below,  tearing  the  hull  of  the 
Richard  to  pieces  with  his  heavy  guns. 
The  guns,  amidships,  from  the  close  con 
tact  of  the  two  vessels,  were  of  no  use, 
for  they  could  neither  be  sponged  nor 
loaded.  Jones  could  only  bring  into  ser 
vice  three  or  four  of  his  smaller  cannon 
on  the  quarter-deck,  one  of  which  he  had 
dragged  over  from  the  larboard  side,  and 
stood  by  it  himself — directing  its  fire  — 
through  the  whole  action.  The  enemy 
seemed  determined  to  carry  the  day,  and 
would  have  done  so,  but  for  the  activity 
and  spirit  of  the  Richard's  men  in  the 
tops. 

Jones's  sailors  and  marines  lay  out  on 
the  Richard's  main-vard  :  and.  while  some 


708 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


threw  grenades  down  upon  the  enemy's 
deck,  others  kept  up  a  constant  fire  with 
musketry,  blunderbusses,  pistols, 
and  every  other  kind  of  firearm 
which  they  could  get  hold  of.  Almost 
every  man  of  the  SerapLs  was  thus  driven 
below.  They  were  not  even  safe  here. 
One  bold  fellow  had  provided  himself  with 
a  bucketful  of  combustibles  and  a  match, 
and  taken  his  post  on  the  extreme  end 
of  the  Richard's  yard,  whence  he  dropped 
his  grenades  down  into  the  very  main- 
hatchway  of  the  Serapis.  One  of  these 
grenades  probably  settled  the  day.  By 
the  carelessness  of  the  powder-boys  of 
the  Serapis,  a  number  of  cartridges  had 
been  left  on  the  main-deck,  in  a  line  with 
the  guns,  when  a  grenade  dropped  right 
among  them,  and  in  a  moment  the  whole 
exploded  in  a  flash  from  main  to  mizzen 
mast ! 

The  effect  of  the  explosion  was  terrific. 
More  than  a  score  of  men  were  killed  out 
right,  and  so  completely  torn  to  pieces, 
that  of  some  nothing  was  left  but  the  col 
lars  and  wristbands  of  their  shirts,  or  the 
waistbands  of  their  duck  trousers.  Thir 
ty-eight  more  were  wounded,  and  some 
so  severely,  that  there  was  little  hope  of 
recovery.  Nearly  sixty  of  the  Serapis's 
crew  were  thus  disabled,  and  all  were 
greatly  disheartened  by  the  fatal  acci 
dent.  The  sufferings  and  cries  of  the  in 
jured  were  so  heart-rending,  that  the  peo 
ple  of  the  Serapis,  who  were  all  crowded 
below,  and  were  thus  compelled  to  wit 
ness  and  hear  them,  began  t9  give  up  in 
despair.  Their  drooping  spirits,  however, 
were  suddenly  aroused  to  hope,  if  not  by 
an  alleviation  of  their  own  misery,  yet 


by  a  misfortune  which  now  happened  to 
their  enemy. 

The  Alliance  came  bearing  down,  and, 
although  the  moon  was  up  and  the  night 
clear,  began  to  fire  upon  both  friend  and 
foe,  her  shots  telling  more  severely  upon 
the  Richard  than  upon  the  Serapis.  Fifty 
voices  from  the  former  at  once  hailed  her, 
to  tell  her  captain  that  he  was  firing  up 
on  the  wrong;  vessel,  and  the  usual  niirht- 

O  '  c^ 

signal  of  three  lanterns  was  shown  on  the 
off  side,  while  Jones  ordered  Landais  to 
lay  his  ship  aboard  the  enemy.  He  was 
asked  if  he  understood  the  order,  and  he 
declared  that  he  did.  Landais  then  hauled 
off  to  some  distance,  but  soon  after  drew 
closer,  and  began  his  fire  again,  pouring 
his  broadsides  indiscriminately  into  both 
vessels.  Ten  or  twelve  of  the  Richard's 
men  on  the  forecastle  fell ;  and  an  officer 
of  the  name  of  Caswell,  who  was  killed, 
complained  during  the  last  moments  of 
his  life,  with  a  bitterness  which  added  to 
the  agony  of  death,  that  he  died  by  the 
hands  of  his  friends. 

The  Alliance  did  great  damage  to  the 

o  O 

Richard.  Her  men  became  discouraged, 
and,  leaving  their  guns,  declared  that  the 
Englishmen  on  board  the  former  had  got 
possession  of  the  ship.  The  Richard's  tops 
were  cut  up,  and  her  hull  so  damaged  by 
the  fire  of  the  Alliance,  and  the  water 
came  in  so  freely  through  the  shot-holes, 
that  she  began  to  settle.  There  was  now 
a  panic  on  board  among  the  crew.  A  ru 
mor  circulated  between- decks  that  the 
commodore  and  all  his  principal  officers 
were  slain,  that  the  gunners  were  now  in 
command,  and  that  the  ship  had  four  or 
five  feet  of  water  in  her  hold.  The  sail- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  SERAPIS. 


709 


ors  accordingly  delegated  the  gunner,  the 
carpenter,  and  the  master-at-arms,  to  go 
on  deck  and  beg  quarter  of  the  enemy. 
The  English  prisoners  belonging  to  the 
prizes  which  had  been  taken,  who  num 
bered  about  one  hundred,  were  let  loose 
in  the  meantime,  to  save  their  lives  ;  and 
one  of  them  crept  from  the  port  of  the 
Richard  into  that  of  the  Serapis,  and  in 
formed  the  British  commander  that  in  a 
few  minutes  all  would  be  over  with  his 
enemy. 

The  gunner,  in  the  meantime,  reached 
the  main-deck,  followed  by  his  associate 
delegates,  and  bawling  out  aloud,  "  Quar 
ter,  quarter,  for  God's  sake  quarter !  our 
ship  is  sinking  !"  they  got  upon  the  ship's 
poop,  in  order  to  haul  down  the  colors. 
The  ensign  and  ensign-staff,  however,  had 
long  since  been  shot' away,  and  the  three 
accordingly  proceeded  to  the  quarter-deck 
and  began  to  haul  at  the  pendant,  still 
crying,  "Quarter!" — "What  rascals  are 
those  ?  Shoot  them — kill  them!"  fiercely 
shouted  Jones,  who  had  now  for  the  first 
time  caught  si<>-ht  of  the  fellows,  as  he  had 

O  O  ' 

been  away  for  a  moment  on  the  forecas 
tle.  The  carpenter  and  the  master-at-arms 
no  sooner  heard  that  terrible  voice,  than 
they  skulked  below,  where  the  gunner 
was  attempting  to  follow  them,  when  the 
commodore  hurled  a  pistol  at  his  head, 
which  knocked  him  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  gangway,  where  he  lay  senseless  un 
til  the  end  of  the  battle/'5 

Captain  Pearson,  having  heard  the  cry 
for  quarter,  and  listened  to  the  story  of 
the  English  prisoner,  now  hailed  his  an 
tagonist,  crying,  "Why  don't  you  haul 

*  An  eye-witness.     Analeetie  Magazine. 


down  your  pendant  ?"  The  ensign,  as  we 
have  seen,  had  already  been  shot  away. 
"Haul  down  our  pendant?"  cried  Jones. 
"Ay,  ay !  ive'tt  do  that  when  we  can  fight  no 
longer :  we  are  tvaiting  for  yours  to  come  down 
first!" 

The  conflict  was  now  renewed,  with 
greater  vigor  than  ever,  but  was  soon  sus 
pended  by  the  Richard  taking  fire.  The 
ship  had  already  been  several  times  in 
flames,  which  had,  howrever,  been  easily 
quenched  by  the  tub  of  water  in  the  fore- 
top.  The  tub,  nevertheless,  was  emptied 
again  and  again  without  effect,  when  at 
last  the  crew,  by  pulling  off  their  coats 
and  jackets,  and  first  smothering  the  fire, 
succeeded  in  putting  it  out.  The  English 
captain  now  hailed  again,  to  ask  if  Jones 
demanded  quarter ;  and,  mistaking  thu 
answer,  which  was  in  the  negative,  he  o> 
dered  his  men  to  take  possession  of  the 
prize.  He  soon  found  out  his  mistake, 
however;  for  when  some  of  his  crew  got 
on  the  gunwale  of  the  Richard,  they  were 
met  by  a  gang  of  boarders  with  their 
pikes,  and  forced  to  retreat  in  haste  to 
their  own  ship.  The  American  top-men 
now  drove  the  crew  of  the  Serapis  (who 
had  been  ordered  on  deck)  down  below 
again,  where  they  resumed  their  position 
at  the  lower  guns,  and  continued  their 
fire  through  and  through  the  Richard's 
hull. 

All  fighting,  however,  soon  ceased,  as 
both  ships  were  on  fire,  and  their  crews 
were  busy  in  extinguishing  the  flames; 
while  many  of  the  men  on  board  the  Rich 
ard  were  kept  constantly  at  the  pumps, 
to  prevent  her  sinking.  The  Serapis  had 
been  on  fire  twelve  times  duriny;  the  ac- 


710 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[TAUT  11. 


tion,and  her  antagonist  may  be  said  never 
to  have  ceased  burning  during  the  whole 

time.    It  was  past  midnight,  and 
senti  93. 

about   three   and  a   half  hours 

since  the  first  gun  had  been  fired,  when 
Captain  Pearson  at  last  determined  to 
strike  to  Jones.  None  of  the  crew  could 
be  persuaded  to  mount  the  quarter-deck 
for  the  purpose,  so  fearful  were  they  of 
a  shot  from  the  Richard's  top-men,  and 
the  British  commander  was  obliged  to 
haul  down  the  flag  of  the  Serapis  with  his 
own  hands. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  the  col 
ors  of  the  English  had  been  lowered,  Mr. 
Dale,  the  first-lieutenant,  got  upon  the 
gunwale  of  the  Richard,  and,  laying  hold 
of  her  main-brace  pendant,  he  swung  him 
self  on  board  the  Serapis.  On  her  quar 
ter-deck  he  found  Captain  Pearson,  almost 
alone,  where  he  had  remained  through 
out  nearly  the  whole  action.  While  Mr. 
Dale  was  speaking  to  him,  the  first-lieu 
tenant  of  the  Serapis  came  up  from  be 
low,  to  inquire  if  the  Richard  had  struck, 
as  her  fire  had  ceased.  He  was,  however, 
informed  that  it  was  his  own  ship  which 
was  in  that  predicament ;  when  he  pro 
posed  to  go  below,  and  stop  the  firing. 
But  Dale  would  not  consent ;  and  the  en 
emy's  guns  did  not  cease  till  the  British 
captain  and  his  lieutenant  had  reached 
the  quarter-deck  of  the  Richard,  and  sur- 


Sept,  24. 


rendered  their  swords  into  the  hands  of 
Paul  Jones.* 

The  Richard,  having  been  so  damaged 
in  the  action,  and  being  still  on  fire,  it 
was  found  necessary  to  abandon 
her  the  next  day,  and  soon  after 
she  went  down,  head  foremost.  The  Sera- 
pis  had  suffered  much  less  in  her  hull,  but 
her  mainmast  had  been  so  riddled  with 
balls  that  it  fell,  bringing  down  with  it 
the  mizzen-topmast. 

Commodore  Jones,  having;  first  hoisted 

?  O 

his  flag  on  board  the  captured  ship,  now 
sailed  with  the  remains  of  his  squadron 
and  his  prize  to  the  coast  of  Holland, 
where  he  put  into  the  Texel,  for  repairs. 
The  loss  of  lives  on  both- sides  seems 
to  have  been  about  equal,  and  amounted 
to  nearly  one  half  of  all  en^ao-ed.  The 

•/  o     o 

conflict  had  lasted  nearly  four  hours,  and, 
sanguinary  as  it  had  been,  it  would  have 
proved  still  more  so,  and  far  less  protract 
ed,  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  the 
crew  of  the  Serapis  were  fighting  below, 
while  the  crew  of  the  Richard  were  fight 
ing  above. 

*  "It  is  with  <^reat  reluctance  that  I  am  obliged  to  resign 
my  sword  to  a  man  with  a  halter  about  his  neck,"  are  the 
apocryphal  words  attributed  to  the  British  commander  on 
this  occasion,  to  which  Jones  is  said  to  have  answered  chiv 
alrously,  "  Sir,  you  have  fought  like  a  hero,  and  I  do  not 
doubt  but  that  your  sovereign  will  reward  you  handsomely." 
Pearson  was  afterward  rewarded  with  the  title  of  baronet, 
when  Jones  is  again  said  to  have  remarked,  "  The  next  time 
I  fall  in  with  him,  I  '11  make  a  lord  of  him  !'; 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         MAJOR  LEE'S  EXPLOIT  AT  1'AULUS  HOOK. 


'11 


CHAPTER    LXXX. 

Henry  Lee's  Attack  on  Paulas  Hook. — Its  Success. — A  Massachusetts  Enterprise. — Great  Enthusiasm. — Extensive 
Preparations. — Military  and  Naval  Forces. — Parallels  and  Approaches. — An  Obstinate  Enemy. — Massachusetts  gives 
up  Penobscot  Buy  in  Despair. — The  Fate  of  the  Massachusetts  Fleet. — The  South.— The  French  Fleet. — Its  Arrival 
off  the  Coast  of  Georgia. — The  British  taken  by  Surprise. — Captures. — Flight. — Cuunt  d'Estaing  in  Haste. — Too  po 
lite  and  self-confident. — General  Prevost  fortifies  Savannah. — The  Spirited  Maitland. — Prevost  will  defend  Himself  to 
the  Last  Extremity. — The  Siege  begun. — Description  of  Savannah  and  its  Fortifications. — Impatience  of  D'Estaing.— 
The  Assault. — The  Struggle. — Death  of  Count  Pulaski. — Defeat  of  the  AUies. — The  Loss. — Count  d'Estaing  sails 
away. — End  of  the  Southern  Campaign  of  1779. — A  Clever  Ruse. — Valueless  Victories. 


1779. 


THE  gallant  Major  Henry  Lee 
was  always  eager  for  action ;  and, 
as  there  was  little  prospect  of  a  general 
campaign,  he  took  care  to  find  out  a 
sphere  for  the  exercise  of  his  own  super 
fluous  energies.  He  was  now  stationed 
with  his  light-troops,  as  an  outpost,  on 
the  New-Jersey  side  of  the  Hudson,  a 
short  distance  behind  Hoboken.  Here 
he  was  constantly  on  the  alert,  keeping 
watch  over  the  movements  of  the  enemy, 
and,  when  occasion  offered,  pouncing  up 
on  their  foraging-par.ties.  Near  his  post 
was  Paulus  Hook  (now  Jersey  City),  a 
long  and  low  peninsula,  stretching  into 
the  Hudson  river,  and  joined  to  the  main 
land  by  a  marsh.  The  British  had  forti 
fied  the  position  strongly,  and  occupied  it 
with  a  garrison  of  several  hundred  men, 
under  the  command  of  Major1  Sutherland. 
The  works  were  formidable,  consisting  of 

o 

two  redoubts,  mounted  with  heavy  can 
non,  enclosed  within  breastworks,  abattis, 
and  trenches.  A  deep  ditch  was  dug 
across  the  narrow  marsh  which  separated 
the  hook  from  the  mainland,  and  a  draw 
bridge,  protected  by  a  barred  gate,  thrown 
over. 


While  keeping  his  watchful  eye  .,n  the 
place,  Lee  had  noticed  the  negligence  of 
the  garrison,  who,  trusting  to  the  strength 

*— '  /  '  O  O 

of  their  works,  became  heedless  cf  the 
usual  precautions.  The  major  therefore 
determined,  if  possible,  to  take  the  hook 
by  surprise.  Washington,  on  being  con 
sulted,  at  first  considered  the  enterprise 
too  hazardous;  but  afterward,  upon  con 
ferring  with  Lee  personally  on  the  sub 
ject,  he  gave  his  approval.  .  He  declared, 
however,  that  if  the  post  could  not  be 
taken  in  an  instant,  by  surprise,  the  at 
tempt  must  not  be  made. 

Thus  fortified  by  the  approbation  of 
the  commander-in-chief,  Major  Lee  start 
ed  with  three  hundred  infantry 
soldiers  and  a  troop  of  his  own 
dismounted  dragoons,  to  execute  his  haz 
ardous  enterprise.  To  deceive  those  ir?. 
the  country  who  were  friendly  to  the  en 
emy,  Lee  took  care  to  have  it  rumored 
that  he  was  going  out  merely  to  forage, 
and  took  a  long  and  circuitous  route. 

His  march  through  the  country  excited 
no  suspicion,  as  these  foraging-excursions 
were  of  c  very-day  occurrence.  On  am- 

«/  */ 

ving  at  the  New  bridge,  on  the  Hackei.- 


Aiig.  18. 


712 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


sack  river,  Lee  halted  his  party  till  Lord 
Stirling  should  come  up  with  his  five  hun 
dred  men,  who  were  to  remain  there  as 
a  reserve,  in  case  their  aid  should  be  re 
quired.  When  the  night  was  sufficiently 
advanced,  Lee  pushed  forward  through 
the  rugged  country  between  the  Hack- 
ensack  and  the  Hudson.  Having  crossed 
Harsimus  creek,  be  passed  over  the  draw 
bridge,  and  through  the  barred  gate,  into 
the  works,  without  exciting  the  least  sus 
picion.  A  party  of  the  enemy  was  fortu 
nately  out  foraging,  and  the  Americans 
weie  thought  by  the  careless  guards  to 
be  their  GWL  countrymen,  and  were  per 
mitted  to  enter  without  question. 

Major  Lee's  purpose  was  effected  al-  | 
most  without  a  blow.  Major  Sutherland 
and  some  Hessians,  however,  at  the  last 
moment,  succeeded  in  escaping  into  a 
blockhouse,  after  Lee  had  secured  a  hun 
dred  and  fifty-nine  prisoners,  and  thence 
began  ai.  irregular  (ire,  by  which  two  of 
j.Qe's  party  were  killed  and  three  wound 
ed.  There  was  no  time  to  dislodge  them, 
as  the  alarm  had  now  extended  to  the 
English  men-of-war  in  the  North  river, 
and  would  soon  rench  the  British  head 
quarters  opposite,  in  New  York ;  while, 
moreover,  Lee  had  been  strictly  enjoined 
by  Washington  not  to  risk  the  lives  of  his 
men  by  remaining  to  destroy  barracks  or 
artillery.  In  the  assault  the  British  had 
thirty  killed.  The  American  commander 
made  good  his  retreat,  under  the  cover 
of  General  Lord  Stirling,  and  had  the  sat 
isfaction  of  being  welcomed  back  to  camp 
with  the  applause  of  every  officer  and  sol 
dier  for  his  triumphant  gallantry.  Med- 
a?e  had  been  awarded  by  Congress  to  Gen 


eral  Wayne  and  the  leaders  of  the  two 
divisions  in  the  storming  of  Stony  Point ; 
and  the  same  honor  was  now  conferred 
upon  Major  Lee  for  his  brave  exploit  at 
Paul  us  Hook. 

A  more  pretentious  but  less  successful 
enterprise  was  got  up  in  Massachusetts. 
Colonel  M'Lean,  in  command  of  the-  Brit 
ish  troops  in  Nova  Scotia,  had  gone  with 
nearly  seven  hundred  men  and  three 
sloops-of-war  to  establish  a  post  on  Penob- 
scot  bay,  in  order  to  obtain  timber  from 
the  forests  of  Maine  for  the  shipyards  at 
Halifax,  and  to  check  the  incursions  of 
the  New-Englanders.  M-Lean  selected 
some  high  ground  on  a  peninsula,  with  a 
small  bay  toward  the  sea,  in  which  the 
three  sloops-of-war  now  rode  at  anchor, 
and  a  steep  ascent  on  the  land-side.  Here 
he  commenced  the  construction  of  a  fort, 
which  was  still  incomplete  when  he  re 
ceived  intelligence  of  the  setting  out  of 
a  large  force  to  attack  him. 

Massachusetts  was  greatly  provoked 
by  this  invasion  of  its  territory,  and  the 
state  determined  to  make  a  vigorous  ef 
fort  to  defend  itself  and  vindicate  its  in 
sulted  honor.  Confident  in  its  own  re 
sources,  the  government  at  Boston  proud 
ly  disdained  all  aid,  and  neither  consulted 
Washington  at  West  Point  nor  General 
Gates  at  Providence,  nor  asked  them  for 
troops.  The  enterprise  was  got  up  on  a 
scale  that  was  supposed  to  insure  success, 
and  Massachusetts  was  resolved  to  allow 
none  other  to  share  in  the  expected  tri 
umph. 

Great  military  enthusiasm  prevailed  on 
the  occasion,  and  some  three  thousand  en 
terprising  militiamen  were  enrolled  under 


RKVOLUTIONARY.]         DISASTROUS  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  PENOBSCOT. 


713 


the  standard  of  Lovell,  who  was  the  gen 
eral  appointed  to  the  command.  The  na 
val  preparations  were  no  less  spirited  and 
extensive..  An  embargo  was  laid  by  the 
general  court  of  Massachusetts,  for  forty 

O  v 

days,  upon  all  shipping,  in  order  that  a 
full  supply  of  seamen  might  more  readily 
be  obtained.  Captain Saltonstall,  the  state 
commodore,  now  gathered  under  his  broad 
pendant  a  formidable  fleet  of  no  less  than 
twenty  armed  vessels,  brigan tines  and  pri 
vateers,  in  addition  to  twenty-four  trans 
ports  for  the  conveyance  of  the  troops. 

The  fleet,  being  wind-bound  for  some 
time  in  Nantasket  roads,  at  length  made 

its  appearance  off  the  Penobscot. 
Julv  ^5t 

Finding  the  entrance  to  the  lit 
tle  bay,  below  the  enemy's  fort,  barred 
by  the  three  British  sloops-of-war,  which 
were  anchored  across  its  mouth,  the  Amer 
icans  sought  another  anchorage  and  more 
convenient  landing-place.  After  a  delay 
of  three  days,  the  troops  finally  debarked. 
Having  climbed  up  the  steep  approach 
from  the  land,  and  dragged  their  heavy 
camion  after  them,  they  took  their  posi 
tion  within  seven  hundred  and  fifty  yards, 
and  in  regular  form  began  to  lay  siege  to 
the  fort. 

While  General  Lovell  was  proceeding, 
according  to  the  most  approved  military 
art,  with  his  parallels  and  approaches,  the 
British  colonel  improved  the  opportunity 
of  strengthening  his  incomplete  works, 
and  finally  became  so  confident  in  his 
means  of  resistance,  that,  after  refusing 
the  summons  to  surrender,  he  fearlessly 
scorned  all  threats  of  assault. 

Lovell  continued  the  protracted  siege, 
with  an  occasional  attempt  at  co-opera- 


Aug.  14. 


tion  on  the  part  of  Commodore  Salton- 
sta,ll,  who  made  several  not  very  vigorous 
efforts  to  enter  the  harbor,  which  were, 
however,  always  defeated  by  the  British 
sloops-of-war  on  guard  at  its  entrance. 
The  militia  now  began  to  grow  weary  of 
the  long  trial  of  their  undisciplined  pa 
tience  ;  and  Lovell  was  fain  to  send  to 
General  Gates,  at  Providence,  for  a  rein 
forcement  of  regular  troops,  which  were 
despatched,  but  did  not  arrive  in  time. 

After  a  brisk  but  ineffectual  cannona 
ding  (which  was  returned  with  spirit  from 
the  fort)  had  continued  day  after  day  for 
a  fortnight,  the  English  colonel 
vras  surprised  one  morning  to 
discover  that  his  enemies  had,  during  the 
previous  night,  suddenly  abandoned  their 
camp-works  and  re-embarked. 

The  cause  was  soon  made  apparent  by 
the  appearance  off  the  bay  of  Admiral  Sir 
George  Collier,  with  a  British  squadron 
of  five  formidable  men-of-war.  While  Col 
lier  lay  at  Sandy  Hook,  he  got  wind  of 
the  Massachusetts  expedition, from  a  com 
municative  paragraph  in  a  Boston  news 
paper,  and  made  all  haste  to  the  rescue 
of  the  Penobscot  fort.  The  American  ves 
sels,  under  Commodore  Saltonstall,  pre 
sented  a  threatening  aspect  on  the  arri 
val  of  Sir  George.  They  were  "  drawn 
up  seemingly  with  the  view  of  disputing 
the  passage.  Their  resolution,  however, 
soon  failed,  and  an  ignominious  flight  took 
place."*  Two  of  the  largest  armed  ves 
sels  strove  to  run  out  of  the  bay  and  get 
to  sea,  but  were  intercepted,  when  one 
was  taken,  and  the  other,  being  driven  on 
shore,  was  blown  up  by  her  own  crew. 

*  Gordon. 


714 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


The  rest  made  for  the  mouth  of  the  Pe- 
nobscot  river,  Avhere  the  sailors  and  sol 
diers  got  ashore  and  made  their  escape 
by  land,  abandoning  their  vessels  to  the 
enemy.  The  fugitives  had  a  weary  jour 
ney  before  them,  being  forced  to  make 
their  way  to  their  homes  for  a  hundred 
miles  through  the  forest-wilderness  of 
Maine  and  New  Hampshire,  and"  did  not 
reach  Boston  until  the  latter  part  of  Sep 
tember.  Many  perished  from  hunger  and 
fatigue,  in  the  attempt.  Neither  general 
nor  commodore  escaped  the  severe  re 
bukes  of  their  state  and  fellow-citizens  for 
the  ignominious  result  of  the  great  Mas 
sachusetts  expedition  against  the  enemy 
at  Penobscot. 

Let  us  now  record  events  at  the  South, 
where  the  British  seemed  disposed  to  car 
ry  on  the  war.  The  French  fleet,  after 
being  thoroughly  refitted  at  Boston,  had 
sailed  for  the  West  Indies,  where  Count 
d'Estaing  achieved  some  small  triumphs. 
As  the  hurricane-months  were  approach 
ing,  and  an  intermission  of  active  opera 
tions  in  the  tropical  seas  must  occur,  the 
Americans  in  the  southern  states  deter 
mined  to  invoke  the  aid  of  the  French 
admiral.  Governor  Rutledge,  of  South 
Carolina,  and  General  Lincoln,  in  com 
mand  at  Charleston,  with  the  concurrence 
of  the  French  consul  in  that  city,  wrote 
to  D'Estaing  an  earnest  appeal,  which  was 
immediately  responded  to  by  his  setting 
sail  with  his  whole  fleet  for  the  American 
coast. 

The  French  admiral,  with, his  formida 
ble  fleet  of  twenty-four  ships-of-the-line, 
fourteen  frigates,  and  a  flock  of  small  craft, 
and  having  on  board  a  land-force  of  six 


thousand  men,  appeared  so  sud- 


Sept,  1, 


denly  off  the  coast  of  Georgia, 
that  the  British  were  completely  taken 
by  surprise.  The  Experiment,  of  fifty  guns, 
under  the  command  of  Sir  James  Wallace, 
together  with  three  frigates,  were  at  once 
captured,  and  the  rest  of  the  squadron  on 
that  station  was  only  saved  by  running 
up  the  Savannah  river.  General  Prevost, 
who  held  possession  of  the  town  with  a 
small  British  force,  was  in  great  anxiety 
about  its  safety,  and  immediately  ordered 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Conger,  at  Sunbury, 
andLieutenant-ColonelMaitland,whowas 
stationed  at  Beaufort,  in  South  Carolina, 
with  a  considerable  number  of  troops,  to 
march  with  all  despatch  to  his  aid. 

Count  d'Estaing,  in  the  meantime,  had 
met  Governor  Rutledge  and  General  Lin 
coln  at  Charleston,  and  with  them  formed 
a  plan  for  wresting  Savannah  from  the 
British.  While  the  admiral  sailed  to  join 
his  fleet,  Lincoln  pushed  on  by  land  ;  and 
Rutledge  promptly  seconded  the  objects 
of  both,  by  obtaining  at  Charleston  boats 
of  light  draught,  to  aid  the  former  in 
landing  his  troops,  and  enrolling  the  mi 
litia  of  South  Carolina,  and  marching  him 
self  at  their  head  to  reinforce  the  latter. 

The  admiral  was  the  first  to  arrive,  and, 
immediately  after  landing  his  troops  at 
Beaulieu,  he  marched  toward  Savannah, 

and  summoned  the  British  gar- 

,       .    /7  ,  Sept,  13. 

nson  to  surrender  to  the  arms  of 

the  king  of  France.  Lincoln  and  Rutledge 
soon  followed,  and  heard  with  no  little 
vexation  of  the  count's  hasty  proceed 
ings,  and  his  eagerness  to  monopolize  for 
his  own  sovereign  the  expected  honors. 
General  Lincoln,  reminding  his  French 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         D'ESTAING  AND  LINCOLN  BESIEGE  SAVANNAH. 


ally  that  the  United  States  claimed  some 
consideration  in  the  affair,  the  count  was 
prevailed  on,  after  a  little  angry  alterca 
tion,  so  far  to  modify  his  future  action  as 
to  acknowledge  the  Americans  as  a  party 
concerned.  The  combined  forces  thence 
forth  acted  with  amiable  co-operation. 

The  British  general,  on  receiving  the 
summons  of  D'Estaing  to  surrender,  asked 
for  a  delay  of  twenty-four  hours,  to  con 
sider  the  demand.  This  the  courteous 
and  imprudently  self-confident  French 
man  granted.  Prevost  had  been  joined 
by  Conger  from  Sunbury,  but  was  still 
waiting  with  anxiety  for  the  accession  of 
Maitland's  veteran  troops  from  Beaufort. 
Having  gained  time  by  this  ruse,  the  Brit 
ish  general  confidently  relied  upon  the 
arrival  of  the  spirited  Maitland,  and  in  the 
meantime  continued  his  preparations  for 
defence.  He  had  every  soldier,  citizen, 
and  negro,  whom  he  could  muster,  busy 
at  the  works,  in  which  he  was  greatly  aid 
ed  by  Captain  Henry,  in  command  of  the 
small  naval  force  which  had  fled  up  the 
river  on  the  approach  of  the  French  fleet. 
The  guns  from  most  of  the  vessels  were 
landed  and  mounted  on  the  batteries,  and 
the  sailors  and  marines  sent  ashore  to 
work  them  and  reinforce  the  garrison. 
One  brig,  however,  was  allowed  to  retain 
her  guns,  and  was  anchored  above  Sa 
vannah,  so  as  to  cover  the  right  of  the 
British  lines.  Several  vessels  were  sunk 
across  the  channel  below  the  town,  in  or 
der  to  prevent  the  nearer  approach  of  the 
French  fleet;  and  others  in  like  manner 
above,  where  a  boom  was  thrown  across 
the  river,  to  hinder  all  attempts  by  water 
in  that  direction. 


The  welcome  Maitland  arrived  in  time. 
Great  were  the  obstacles  which  he  had  to 
encounter.  Being  cut  off  by  the  French 
fleet  from  the  customary  route  to  Savan 
nah,  he  wras  obliged  to  take  one  which  led 
him  over  land  and  water,  through  deep 
creeks  and  marshes,  where  his  soldiers 
were  forced  to  drag  their  boats.  With 
all  these  difficulties,  Maitland,  though  ill 
with  a  bilious  fever,  made  his  way  to  the 
Savannah  river,  where,  embark  ing  in  boats 
above  the  anchorage,  he  entered  the  towr 
before  the  expiration  of  the  truce.  His 
arrival  "  diffused  universal  joy,  not  only 
because  he  added  one  third  to  the  number 
of  the  garrison,  and  that  too  in  troops  of 
the  best  quality,  but  because  he  added 
himself,  always  the  source  of  comfort 
where  danger  reigned."* 

His  purpose  gained  by  the  truce,  the 
British  general  now  confidently  answered 
D'Estaing's  summons  by  declaring  that 
he  should  defend  himself  to  the  last  ex 
tremity.  The  allies,  having  coni- 

/.,    .  Sept,  23, 

pleted  their  preparations,  broke 

ground  for  the  siege,  and  pushed  their 
approaches  with  the  greatest  diligence, 
so  that  in  twelve  days  fifty-three  pieces 
of  battering-cannon  and  fourteen  mortars 
were  mounted.  They  now  opened  their 
fire,  and  with  such  terrible  effect 
upon  the  town,  that  General  Pre 
vost  sent  out  a  flag,  with  the  request  that 
the  aged,  the  women,  and  the  children, 
might  be  allowed  to  remove  to  a  place 
of  safety.  This  was,  however,  refused  by 
the  confederate  commanders, probably  on 
the  ground  that  their  absence  would  pro- 

*  Henry  Lee,  who  is  always  as  candid  as  an  historian  ai 
lie  was  brave  as  a  soldier. 


Oct,  4, 


716 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  n 


tract  the  resistance  of  the  garrison  ;  al 
though,  accord ic g  to  Lee,  the  request  was 
sustained  by  the  claims  of  humanity,  and 
if  granted  would  have  tended  in  no  way 
to  the  benefit  of  the  besieged  or  the  in 
jury  of  the  besiegers. 

The  British  force  was  comparatively 
small,  amounting  to  less  than  three  thou 
sand  men, even  including  Maitland's  eight 
hundred  veterans.  When  D'Estaing  had 
first  sent  in  his  summons,  Prevost  had 
hardly  a  dozen  guns  mounted  ;  but,  by  j 
immense  exertions,  he  had  succeeded,  du 
ring  the  protracted  operations  of  the  be 
siegers,  in  mounting  no  less  than  a  hun 
dred  cannon  of  all  kinds  and  calibres. 
The  British  engineer,  MoncriefF,  was  a, 
marvel  of  energy,  and  full  of  resource. 
He  with  great  ingenuity  strengthened  all 
the  weak  parts  of  the  town  with  impale 
ments,  traverses,  abattis,  and  redoubts,  and 
in  their  construction  availed  himself  free 
ly  of  the  native  palmetto,  which,  from  the 
spongy  nature  of  the  wood,  receives  a  ball 
without  a  shock  or  a  splinter.  The  in 
terstices  of  the  framework  formed  by  the 
trees  were  filled  in  with  mud  and  sand. 

A  deep  morass  and  the  river  gave  se 
curity  to  two  sides  of  Savannah.  Fields 
surrounded  the  other  parts  of  the  town. 
Here  the  allies  were  approaching,  and 
here  were  erected  the  enemy's  defences. 
So  well  prepared  had  the  besieged  now 
become,  that  they  eagerly  wished  their 
works  might  be  assaulted,  for  their  fate 
would  otherwise  be  certain  in  time,  un 
less  relieved  by  a  British  fleet.,  They  ac 
cordingly  did  not  waste  their  strength 
by  attempts  to  impede  the  advances  of 
the  allies ;  and  only  made  two  cautious 


sorties,  more  with  a  view  to  provoke  as 
sault  than  to  strike  a  blow. 

General  Prevost  calculated  that  the 
French  would  resolve  upon  storming  his 
works,  knowing  the  danger  they  would 
consider  themselves  exposed  to  from  the 
approaching  autumnal  gales,  besides  the 
chance  of  the  arrival  of  a  British  fleet. 
"He  also  counted  upon  the  impatient 
temper  of  the  French,  identified  in  the 
character  of  their  commander,  not  doubt 
ing,"  says  Henry  Lee,  "from  his  being 
our  voluntary  assistant,  he  would  take 
his  measures  from  and  for  himself.  Lin 
coln's  Avisdom,  Lincoln's  patience,  Lin 
coln's  counsel,  would  be  very  limited  in 
its  effect." 

The  calculation  of  the  British  general 
was  well  founded.  D'Estaing  became  im 
patient,  for  he  had  already  been  delayed 
a  month  by  an  enterprise  which  he  had 
been  led  to  believe,  when  his  aid  was  so 
licited,  could  be  readily  accomplished  in 
ten  days.  His  officers  were  still  more  im 
patient  than  himself;  and,  being  anxious 
for  the  safety  of  the  fleet — which  they 
thought  was  imperilled  by  the  approach 
of  the  stormy  season,  and  the  probable 
arrival  of  a  British  naval  armament— 
they  remonstrated  against  further  delay. 
The  count  accordingly  declared  to  Gen 
eral  Lincoln  that  Savannah  must  be  forth 
with  stormed,  or  the  siege  raised. 

The  cautious  American  leader  would 
have  continued  his  slow  but  sure  system  ; 
nevertheless,  rather  than  abandon  the 
enterprise,  he  consented  to  the  hazardous 
expedient  of  a  storm.  The  9th  of  Octo 
ber  was  the  time  appointed  ;  and  when 
the  day  dawned,  the  allied  troops  moved 


REVOLUTIONAKY.]         THE  ASSAULT  AND  REPULSE.— DEATH  OF  PULASKT. 


717 


to  the  assault.  The  chief  point  of  attack, 
which  was  supposed  to  be  the  most  vul 
nerable,  was  on  the  right  of  the  enemy, 
where  Prevost,  aware  of  its  weakness,  had 
posted  his  choicest  troops,  under  the  com 
mand  of  the  gallant  Maitland. 

The  allied  forces  were  divided 
Oct.  9,       . 

into  three  columns.  l\vo,  com 
posed  of  three  thousand  live  hundred 
French  troops  and  six  hundred  continen 
tals,  were  to  make  the  main  assault,  on 
the  right ;  while  the  third,  chiefly  militia, 
was  to  move  upon  the  British  centre  and 
left,  to  create  if  possible-a  division  of  at 
tention  in  that  direction,  or  to  act  in  re 
serve.  The  first  column,  headed  by  D'Es 
taing  and  Lincoln  jointly,  led  the  attack  ; 
and  the  second,  under  Count  Dillon,  was 
directed  to  follow.  The  approach  to  the 
right  of  the  enemy's  works  was  along 
some  sunken  ground,  by  which  the  ad 
vance  could  be  made  almost  to  the  ditch 
without  exposure  to  fire.  Along  this  con 
cealed  way  D'Estaing  and  Lincoln  now 
pushed  on,  and,  aided  by  the  darkness  of 
the  early  morning,  got  close  to  the  re 
doubts  unobserved.  The  assailants. ad 
vanced  gallantly,  but  were  met  by  a  heavy 
and  well-directed  fire  from  the  batteries 
in  their  front,  and  iralled  in  their  flank  bv 

o  «/ 

a  sharp  cannonade  from  the  British  armed 
brig  in  the  river. 

The  first  fire  from  the  works  was  ter 
ribly  fatal,  and  thinned  the  ranks  of  the 
allies  ;  but  they  pushed  forward  resolute 
ly,  and,  forcing  the  abaUis  there  in  ad 
vance,  succeeded  in  planting  a  French 
and  an  American  standard  on  the  para 
pet.  Before  their  comrades  could  come 
to  their  support,  however,  the  English, 


strengthened  at  the  point  of  attack  by  a 
reserve  force,  came  up  impetuously,  and, 
tearing  away  the  defiant  standards,  drove 
back  the  assailants  with  their  bayonets. 

Count  Dillon,  in  the  meanwhile,  had 
lost  his  way,  in  consequence  of  the  dark 
ness  of  the  morning,  and  thus  failing  to 
bring  his  column  up  in  time,  weakened 
the  force  of  the  assault.  To  this  misfor 
tune  was  added  that  of  the  death  of  the 
brave  Count  Pulaski,  at  the  head  of  his 
troop  of  two  hundred  horsemen,  while  at 
tempting  to  force  his  way  into  the  rear 
of  the  town.  On  his  fall,  his  men  retreat 
ed,  and  an  effort  was  thus  arrested  which 
might  have  changed  the  issue  of  the  day. 
The  body  and  the  banner  of  the  gallant 
Pole  were  borne  away  by  his  faithful  aid, 
Count  Litomiski. 

Although  the  French  and  Carolina* 
standards  had  thus  been. torn  down,  yet 
important  breaches  had  been  made,  and 
another  assault  promised  a  successful  re 
sult  ;  but  D'Estaing  perversely  refused  to 
renew  the  attack.  The  indignant  Lin 
coln  concealed  his  wrath,  and,  being  too 
weak  to  resume  the  siege  alone  by  regu 
lar  approaches,  he  at  length  consented  to 
abandon  it.  The  siege  was  raised  just  as 
victory  lay  within  the  grasp  of  the  allies. 
Thus  a  second  time  did  the  French  admi 
ral  bitterly  disappoint  the  just  hopes  of 
the  Americans. 

After  a  struggle  which  had  lasted  for 
nearly  an  hour,  the  allied  commanders 

*  It  was  a  point  of  honor  that  these  colors  should  not  ho 
lost.  Lieutenant  Gray  was  mortally  wounded  in  attempting 
to  remove  them.  Jasper,  the  brave  man  who  replanted  the 
crescent  flag  at  Fort  Moultrie  in  1776,  hore  them  back  from 
the  bloody  heights  and  delivered  them  in  safety  to  his  com 
rades,  but  lost  his  life  in  the  chivalrous  act,  receiving  a  mor 
tal  wound,  from  which  he  died  soon  after. — SIMMS. 


718 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


drew  off  their  troops,  without  an  attempt 
on  the  part  of  the  British  to  harass  them 
in  their  retreat,  beyond  firing  a  few  shots 
from  their  cannon. 

The  loss  of  the  allies  was  heavy.  The 
French  killed  and  wounded  amounted  to 
seven  hundred  men ;  the  American  reg 
ulars  to  two  hundred  and  forty,  and  the 
Charleston  auxiliaries  to  seven.  D'Es- 
taing,  who,  with  Lincoln,  braved  every 
danger,  was  slightly  wounded.  The  ene 
my,  being  well  protected  by  their  works, 
lost  only  one  hundred  and  twenty  killed 
and  wounded.  Their  only  officer  killed 
was  Captain  Tarves,  of  the  provincials  or 
loyalists,  who  fell  dead  at  the  gate  of  the 
redoubt,  with  his  sword  thrust  into  the 
body  of  the  third  one  of  the  assailants 
whom  he  had  slain.  A  few  days  after 
the  struggle,  Colonel  Maitland  died  of 
the  fever  from  which  he  had  suffered  ever 
since  leaving  Beaufort.  Friend  and  foe 
alike  spoke  with  admiration  of  his  gal 
lantry. 

In  about  ten  days  after  the  disastrous 
assault  upon  Savannah,  Count  d'Estaing 
re-embarked  his  troops  and  sailed  away 
with  his  ships.  They  had  hardly  got  to 
sea,  however,  when  the  whole  fleet  wras 
scattered  by  a  gale.  The  count,  who  had 
met  with  an  almost  unbroken  succession 
of  reverses  from  his  first  arrival  on  the 
coast,  soon  took  his  farewell  of  the  Amer 
ican  continent,  and  returned  to  France. 
Lincoln's  militia,  almost  to  a  man,  went 
back  to  their  homes  ;  and  the  commander 
himself,  left  with  a  small  force  of  regulars, 
marched  into  South  Carolina  and  resumed 
his  post  at  Charleston. 

During  the  siege  of  Savannah,  a  clever 


ruse  was  executed  by  Colonel  John  White, 
of  the  Georgia  line  A  hundred  British 
were  posted,  under  Captain  French,  near 
the  Ogechee.  Five  small  English  vessels, 
fourof  which  were  armed, with  theircrews 
(amounting  in  all  to  about  forty  men),  lay 
at  anchor  in  the  river.  White  determined, 
with  five  other  persons,  one  of  whom  was 
his  servant,  to  carry  off  the  whole,  soldiers 
and  arms,  sailors  and  shipping.  The  colo 
nel  and  his  party  accordingly  lighted  up 
a  series  of  fires  not  far  from  the  enemy, 
to  impress  them  with  an  idea  that  there 
was  a  large  encampment  in  their  neigh 
borhood,  and  then  boldly  summoned  Cap 
tain  French  to  surrender;  threatening, if 
he  failed  to  comply  instantaneously,  to 
cut  to  pieces  his  whole  force !  The  cap 
tain,  completely  deceived,  did  not  hesi 
tate  ;  and  thus  a  hundred  and  forty  men, 
a  hundred  and  thirty  stand  of  arms,  and 
five  British  vessels,  were  delivered  to  the 
American  colonel  and  his  six  associates. 
The  prisoners  were  safely  conducted  by 
three  of  the  captors  for  twenty-five  miles 
to  an  American  post. 

Thus  ended  the  southern  campaign  of 
1779.  The  most  gloomy  apprehensions 
respecting  their  country  took  possession 
of  the  southern  people.*  Still,  although 
so  frequently  victorious,  the  British  could 
boast  of  little  material  advantage  from 
their  conquests.  After  overrunning  the 
whole  state  of  Georgia,  they  were  now 
reduced  to  the  limits  of  Savannah.  Hav 
ing  been  deceived  in  their  reliance  upon 
the  co-operation  of  the  tories,  they  could 
only  secure  what  they  were  able  to  hold 
by  military  possession. 

*  Ramsay. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  THE  AMERICAN  CAMP  AT  MORRISTOWN. 


719 


CHAPTER    LXXXI. 

Winter-Quarters  at  Morristown. — A  Severe  Winter. — A  Tremendous  Snow-Storm. — Suffering. — Wants. — No  Supplies 
— No  Money. — Valueless  Paper. — Clamorous  Soldiers. — Trials  of  Washington. —  An  Incapable  Army. — A  Winter 
Enterprise. — A  Sleigh-Ride. — Failure  of  Lord  Stirling. — Successes  of  the  Enemy. — The  Neutral  Ground. — Sir  Henry 
Clinton  moves  to  the  South. — The  British  Fleet  scattered. — Disembarkation  near  Charleston. — Slight  Opposition. — 
Deliberate  Operations. — Colonel  Tarleton. — His  Life  and  Character. — General  Lincoln  at  Charleston. — Spirit  of  the 
Inhabitants. — The  Fortifications. — Description. — The  American  Squadron. — The  Disposition  of  the  Enemy's  Ships. 
— Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  his  Parallels. — Arrival  of  Reinforcements. — Governor  Rutledge  astir. — Tarleton  leading  a 
Charge. — A  Run  across  the  Country. — A  Dragonade. — The  British  surround  Charleston. — The  Country  scoured. — 
An  Offer  of  Surrender. — It  is  refused. — Fire  opened. — The  Last  Blow. — Surrender  of  Charleston. — Losses. — Terms 


1780, 


THE  heights  of  Morristown  had 
been  selected  by  Washington  for 
the  winter-quarters  of  his  army,  where  the 
troops  were  now  engaged  in  constructing 
log-huts,  as  before  in  Valley  Forge.  The 
winter  opened  with  great  severity,  and, 
while  the  men  were  still  in  tents,  the  snow 
fell  until  it  was  nearly  six  feet  in  depth 
upon  the  ground ! 

"  The  weather  for  several  days,"  writes 
a  suffering  campaigner,  "  has  been  re 
markably  cold  and  stormy.  On  the  3d 
of  January,  we  experienced  one  of  the 
most  tremendous  snow-storms  ever  re 
membered  ;  no  man  could  endure  its  vio 
lence  many  minutes  without  danger  of  his 
life.  Several  marquees  were  torn  asun 
der,  and  blown  over  the  officers'  heads  in 
the  night;  and  some  of  the  soldiers  were 
actually  covered  while  in  their  tents,  and 
buried  like  sheep  under  the  snow  My 
comrades  and  myself  were  roused  from 
sleep  by  the  calls  of  some  officers  for  as 
sistance  :  their  marquee  had  blown  down, 
and  they  were  almost  smothered  in  the 
storm  before  they  could  reach  our  mar 
quee,  only  a  few  yards,  and  their  blankets 


and  baggage  were  nearly  buried  in  the 
snow.  *We  are  greatly  favored  in  having 
a  supply  of  straw  for  bedding;  over  this 
we  spread  all  our  blankets,  and  with  our 
clothes  and  large  fires  at  our  feet,  while 
four  or  five  are  crowded  together,  pre 
serve  ourselves  from  freezing.  But  the 
sufferings  of  the  poor  soldiers  can  scarce 
ly  be  described.  While  on  duty,  they  are 
unavoidably  exposed  to  all  the  inclemen 
cy  of  storms  and  severe  cold  ;  at  night, 
they  now  have  a  bod  of  straw  on  the 
ground,  and  a  single  blanket  to  each 
man.  They  are  badly  clad,  and  some  are 
destitute  of  shoes.  We  have  contrived 
a  kind  of  stone  chimney  outside,  and  an 
opening  at  one  end  of  our  tent  gives  us 
the  benefit  of  the  fire  within.  The  snow 
is  now  from  four  to  six  feet  deep,  which 
so  obstructs  the  roads  as  to  prevent  out 
receiving  a  supply  of  provisions. 

"  For  the  last  ten  days,  we  have  re 
ceived  but  two  pounds  of  meat  a  man ; 
and  we  are  frequently  for  six  or  eight 
days  entirely  destitute  of  meat,  and  then 
as  long  without  bread.  The  consequence 
is,  the  soldiers  are  so  enfeebled  from  him- 


720 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


["PART  n. 


ger  and  cold  as  to  be  almost  unable  to 
perform  their  military  duty,  or  labor  in 
constructing  their  huts."* 

The  commissariat  department  was,  as 
usual,  badly  managed,  and  the  financial 
embarrassment  of  the  country  increased 
the  difficulty  of  obtaining  supplies.  The 
continental  money  had  so  depreciated, 
that  a  pair  of  shoes  could  not  be  purchased 
for  less  than  jive  hundred  dollars  in  the  cur 
rency  which  Congress  was  vainly  striving 
to  force  upon  the  acceptance  of  the  peo 
ple.  With  no  supplies,  and  with  a  treas 
ury-only  filled  with  valueless  paper,  the 
army  was  reduced  almost  to  a  state  of 
starvation.  The  troops  were  always  on 
short  allowance  of  food,  sometimes  with 
out  meat,  sometimes  without  bread,  and 
not  seldom  destitute  of  both.  Under  such 
trials,  the  soldiers  conducted  themselves 
so  well,  that  they  won  from  Washington 
these  words  of  praise  :  "  They  have  borne 
their  sufferings  with  a  patience  that  mer 
its  the  approbation  and  ought  to  excite 
the  sympathy  of  their  countrymen." 

That  men  thus  half  starved  and  badly 
clothed,  however,  during  the  rigor  of  the 
coldest  of  winters,  should  occasionally  be 
come  clamorous,  riotous,  and  even  muti 
nous,  was  naturally  to  be  expected.  It 
was  the  severest  of  all  trials  to  the  forti 
tude  of  Washington  when  he  was  obliged 
to  enforce  discipline  in  a  camp  where 
there  was  so  much  temptation  to  irregu 
larity.  He  was,  nevertheless,  inflexible 
in  his  purpose  of  preserving  order  among 
his  troops,  and  plunderers  as  well  as  mu 
tineers  were  punished  with  all  the  sever 
ity  of  military  law.  The  former  were 

*  Timelier. 


brought  to  the  gallows,  and  the  latter  shot 
down  in  the  ranks. 

By  urgent  appeals  to  the  governors  of 
Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey,  and  forced 
contributions  from  the  inhabitants  of  the 
latter,  Washington  was  finally  enabled  tc 
obtain  some  alleviation  to  the  sufferine-a 

O 

of  his  troops.  His  army,  however,  was 
never  in  a  condition,  during  that  winter, 
to  be  of  effective  service.  The  number 
of  soldiers  was  hardly  ten  thousand,  and 
Washington  considered  these  barely  able 
to  defend  their  encampment,  and  much 
less  fit  to  carry  on  offensive  operations. 
The  excessive  vigor  of  the  winter  had,  by 
freezing  over  the  rivers  and  the  bay  of 
New  York,  offered  an  occasion  for  attack 
upon  the  enemy,  which  it  was  desirable 
to  improve,  but  which  the  state  of  the 
army  rendered  almost  impossible. 

"  Circumstanced  as  things  are  —  men 
half  starved,  imperfectly  clothed,  riotous, 
and  robbing  the  country-people  of  their 
subsistence  from  sheer  necessity  —  I  think 
it  scarcely  possible  to  embrace  any  mo- 
ment,howeverfavorable  in  other  respects, 
for  visiting  the  enemy  on  Staten  island ; 
and  yet,  if  this  frost  should  have  made  a 
firm  and  solid  bridge  between  them  and 
us,  I  should  be  unwilling,  indeed  I  can 
not  relinquish  the  idea  of  attempting  it." 
Thus  wrote  Washington,  at  the 
opening  of  the  j^ear;  and,  em 
barrassed  as  he  was,  he  succeeded,  a  few 
days  subsequently,  in  arranging  an  expe 
dition  against  the  British  troops  posted 
on  Staten  island. 

Lord  Stirling  was  chosen  to  conduct 
the  enterprise,  and  he  set  out  from  the 
American  camp  with  twenty-five  hundred 


Jau,  9, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  BRITISH  AT  THE  SOUTH. 


721 


troops,  conveyed  in  five  hundred  sleighs. 
Having  reached  Dehart's  point, 
he  crossed  the  ice,  and  arrived 
early  in  the  morning  at  Staten  island. 
On  approaching  the  British  forts,  Lord 
Stirling  found  the  enemy  (who  had  re 
ceived  timely  intelligence  of  the  expedi 
tion)  ready  to  receive  him.  It  was  also 
discovered  that  the  channel,  which  it  was 
supposed  had  been  closed  by  the  ice,  was 
still  open  to  New  York,  whence  reinforce 
ments  had  reached  the  island.  The  at 
tempt  on  the  enemy's  forts  was  therefore 
abandoned,  and  the  earl  inarched  back  to 
Elizabethtown,  skirmishing  during  his  re 
treat  with  the  British  in  pursuit.  Two 
or  three  were  killed  on  each  side,  and  a 
few  prisoners  were  carried  away  by  the 
Americans.  All  suffered  greatly  from  the 
excessive  cold,  and  nearly  five  hundred 
men  were  frost-bitten. 

A  few  days  afterward,  General  Knyp- 
hausen  ordered  the  British  at  Staten -isl 
and  to  make  in  their  turn  an  incursion 
into  New  Jersey,  in  retaliation  for  the  at 
tempt  of  Earl  Stirling.  They  succeeded 
in  surprising  the  picket-guard  at  Eliza 
bethtown,  wantonly  burning  the  Presby 
terian  church,  and  carrying  off  a  major 
and  forty  privates. 

Another  successful  attempt  was  made 
by  the  British  outposts  upon  "  Young's 
house,"  near  White  Plains,  garrisoned  by 
three  hundred  Americans.  This  post  was 
on  "The  Neutral  Ground"  ns  it  was  called, 
embracing  almost  the  whole  of  Westches- 
ter  county,  and  had  been  established  to 
obstruct  the  supplies  which  the  enemy  in 
Mew- York  city  drew  from  the  country 

The  British 
9i 


bordering  on  the  Hudson. 


had  been  long  provoked  by  the  daring  of 
the  "rebels"  at  Young's  house,  and  now 
determined  to  root  them  out.  A  large 
force,  consisting  of  British  guards,  Hes 
sians,  and  yagers,  started  out  from  Kings- 
bridge  in  sleighs,  in  the  night,  in  order  to 
surprise  the  post.  The  snow,  however, 
was  so  deep,  that  the  soldiers  were  forced 
to  abandon  the  sleighs  and  artillery,  and 
trudge  on  foot.  The  sun  was  up  before 
they  arrived  at  Young's  house,  and  the 
Americans  were  on  their  guard  ;  but  the 
British,  notwithstanding,  pushed  forward 
to  the  attack,  and,  after  a  spirited  resist 
ance,  succeeded  in  capturing  the  garrison. 
Having  secured  ninety  prisoners  (among 
whom  were  many  of  the  yeomanry  of 
the  country),  and  burnt  the  house,  the 
enemy  returned  to  their  lines,  boasting 
that  they  had  lost  but  two  men  killed  and 
twenty-three  wounded.  Their  prisoners 
were  thrown  into  loathsome  jails  in  New 
York. 

The  British, however, had  concentrated 
their  energies  in  an  expedition  against 
the  southern  states.  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
finding  that  Count  d'Estaing  had  sailed 
away  from  the  American  coast  with  his 
fleet,  and  that  New  York  could  be  left  in 
security  with  but  a  small  number  of  Hes 
sian  and  British  troops  under  the  general 
command  of  the  vigilant  Knyphausen,  re 
solved  to  proceed  to  South  Carolina.,  and 
there  begin  a  campaign.  On  the  arrival 
of  Admiral  Arbuthnot  with  his  ships,  he 
had  the  means  of  transport,  and  a  safe 

convoy  :  and  he  accordingly  set 

v  Dec,  26, 

sail  from  New  lork  with  about 

live  thousand  of  his  choicest  troops  and 
two  thousand  marines. 


722 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


The  fleet,  however,  had  hardly  got  to 
sea,  when  a  long  and  terrible  storm  scat 
tered  the  vessels,  and  drove  them  far  out 
of  their  course.  Some  of  the  transports 
were  taken  by  the  American  privateers ; 
others  were  lost,  among  which  was  one, 
loaded  with  ordnance  and  heavy  siege- 
trains,  that  foundered ;  and  all  were  more 
or  less  damaged.  Nearly  all  the  horses 
belonging  to  the  artillery  and  to  Colonel 
Tarleton's  cavalry-legion  died  during  the 
voyage.  It  was  not  until  the  close  of 
January,  that  Sir  Henry  Clinton  arrived 
in  Tybee  bay,  on  the  Georgia  coast,  with 
the  crippled  remnant  of  the  fleet.  The 
damaged  ships  having  been  refitted,  the 
squadron  sailed  for  North  Edisto  sound, 
in  South  Carolina,  where  it  arrived  on  the 
10 th  of  February.  On  the  following  day 
the  troops  were  disembarked  on 
John's  island,  within  thirty  miles 
of  Charleston.  Here  the  British  general 
was  reinforced  by  twelve  hundred  men, 
sent  by  Prevost  from  Savannah. 

Clinton  proceeded  with  great  deliber 
ation  in  his  movements.  After  a  long 

o 

delay,  he  crossed  the  Ashley  riv- 
er  on  the  south,  and  landed  on 
Charleston  neck.  He  had  been  engaged 
in  the  meantime  fortifying  the  interme 
diate  posts,  in  order  to  secure  a  commu 
nication  with  Admiral  Arbuthnot's  fleet, 
and  in  obtaining  horses  for  his  artillery, 
as  well  as  to  remount  the  dragoons  of 
Tnrleton,  who  had  been  dismounted  by 
the  disastrous  effects  of  the  voyage  from 
New  York.  , 

The  British  commander,  however,  did 
not  succeed  in  making  good  his  position 
without  some  opposition,  though  slight. 


Feb.  11, 


When  his  van  had  reached  the  banks  of 
the  Ashley,  Colonel  William  Washington, 
in  command  of  a  troop  of  American  CLV 
airy,  made  a  successful  attack  upon  Tarle 
ton's  newly-mounted  dragoons,  and  car 
ried  off  a  few  prisoners,  among  whom  was 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Hamilton,  of  the  Roy 
al  regiment  of  North  Carolina.  Again, 
after  passing  the  river,  the  British  van 
was  gallantly  attacked  by  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  James,  in  command  of  a  corps  of 
lightrinfantry  ;  and  the  earl  of  Caithness, 
aid-de-camp  of  Clinton,  was  wounded  in 
the  skirmish. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Tarleton's  activity 
in  the  southern  campaign  has  made  him 
memorable.  BANASTRE  TAREETON  was  a 
thorough  soldier,  who  allowed  no  tender 
sentiment  of  humanity  to  soften  the  hard 
teachings  of  a  military  life.  His  personal 
appearance  accorded  with  his  character. 
He  was  rather  below  the  middle  stature, 
strong  and  heavily  made,  with  large,  mus 
cular  legs,  but  was  uncommonly  active. 
His  complexion  was  dark,  and  his  eye 
small,  black,  and  piercing.*  His  early 
years  had  been  spent  in  the  study  of  law, 
but  his  talents  were  evidently  better  suit 
ed  for  the  tragic  conflicts  of  war  than  for 
the  bloodless  wrangling  of  the  bar;  and 
when  Tarleton  entered  the  army,  he  soon 
proved  himself  equal  to  its  most  cruel 
demands  iipon  his  naturally  severe  dis 
position.  At  about  the  age  of  twenty-six. 
he  came  to  America  with  Lord  Cornwal- 
lis,  and  was  highly  valued  by  that  noble 
man  as  the  surest  reliance  in  his  most 
merciless  enterprises.  Tarleton  frankly 
declared  that  "  severity  alone  could  otfect 

*  Watson. 


KK  VOLUTION  ART, 


TARLETON.— CHARLESTON  AND  ITS  DEFENCES. 


723 


the  establishment  of  regal  authority  in 
America,"  and  did  not  fail  to  carry  out 
fully  the  opinion  which  he  so  freely  pro 
fessed.  In  the  course  of  the  southern 
campaign  we  shall  have  occasion  to  re 
cord  the  effects  of  the  cruel  energies  of 
this  unscrupulous  soldier,  who  had  now 
succeeded,  by  his  forays  on  the  surround 
ing  plantations,  in  mounting  himself  and 
his  dragoons. 

General  Lincoln  held  Charleston  with 
only  fifteen  hundred  men,  but  was  ex 
pecting  the  arrival  of  the  southern  regi 
ments  sent  by  Washington  from  his  camp 
at  Morristown.  In  the  meantime,  though 
somewhat  doubtful  of  the  policy  which 
was  urged  upon  him  by  the  inhabitants, 
of  attempting  to  hold  the  city,  Lincoln 
was  making  every  effort  to  strengthen 
its  defences,  in  which  he  was  seconded 
by  the  spirited  co-operation  of  Governor 
Rutledge,  who  had  been  invested  by  the 
legislature  of  the  state  with  every  power 
but  that  of  life  and  death. 

Charleston  stands  on  the  southern  ex 
tremity  of  a  short  and  narrow  neck  of 
land,  with  the  Cooper  river  on  the  east 
and  the  Ashley  on  the  west.  The  bay 
and  harbor  is  formed  by  the  junction  of 
the  two  streams,  which,  MS  they  flow  to 
gether  to  the  sea,  bend  in  their  curves 
among  a  number  of  fertile  islands,  on  one 
of  which  (Sullivan's)  was  Fort  Moultrie, 
under  the  command  of  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Pinckney,  and  on  another  (James's) 
the  ruins  of  Fort  Johnson.  In  addition 
to  these  defences  seaward,  a  small  Ameri 
can  squadron,  commanded  by  Commodore 
Whipple  —  consisting  of  nine  vessels,  of 
which  the  largest  mounted  only  forty- 


four  guns — was  at  anchor  in  the  bay. 
With  the  forts,  the  supposed  difficulty  of 
large  ships-of-war  in  passing  the  bank  of 
sand,  or  bar  as  it  is  called,  and  the  Ameri 
can  squadron  to  dispute  the  passage,  the 
city  was  considered  tolerably  secure  tow 
ard  the  sea. 

Every  effort  was  now  made  to  defend 
the  approaches  by  land.  Governor  Rut- 
ledge,  in  the  exercise  of  his  ample  pow 
ers,  called  out  the  militia,  and  ordered 
three  hundred  negroes  from  the  planta 
tions  to  labor  upon  the  works.  Soon  a 
canal  was  dug  in  the  rear  of  the  town, 
from  the  marshy  borders  of  one  river  to 
those  of  the  other.  Beyond  the  canal 
were  two  rows  of  deeply-laid  abattis,  and 
a  double  picketed  ditch  ;  while  within, 
toward  the  main  works,  deep  holes  were 
dug,  to  interrupt  the  inarch  of  the  enemy, 
strong  redoubts  and  batteries  were  raised 
on  the  right  and  left,  and  in  the  centre 
was  an  enclosed  housework  of  masonry, 
forming  a  kind  of  citadel.  Other  works 
were  erected  at  every  point  where  a  land 
ing  was  practicable. 

The  great  object  of  the  American  squad 
ron  was,  to  prevent  the  British  fleet  from 
passing  the  bar;  but  Commodore  Whipple 
found  that,  in  consequence  of  the  shallow- 
ness  of  the  water,  he  could  not  anchor 
near  enough  to  dispute  the  passage.  The 
ships  were  accordingly  moored  abreast  of 
Fort  Moultrie, by  co-operation  with  which 
it  was  hoped  effectual  opposition  might 
be  offered  to  the  advance  of  the  -enemy's 
fleet. 

The  British  admiral  lay  with  his  ships 
lightened  of  their  guns  outside  of  the  bar 
for  two  weeks,  waiting  for  wind  and  tide  ; 


724 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[>AKT    IT. 


War,  25, 


April  9, 


but  he  finally  crossed  it  without 
the  least  difficulty,  and  came  to 
anchor  in  Five-Fathom  hole,  the  previous 
station  of  the  American  squadron.  Com 
modore  Whipple  now  moved  bis  vessels 
a  second  time  ;  and,  fearing  lest  the  Brit 
ish  would  enter  Cooper  river,  where  they 
mi i^ht  bring:  their  guns  to  bear  with  effect 

o  o  o 

upon  the  town,  and  cut  off  the  only  com 
munication  of  the  garrison  with  the  coun 
try,  he  anticipated  them  by  placing  his 
own  squadron  in  that  position.  Here,  af 
ter  landing  his  guns,  to  assist  in  the  de 
fence  of  the  town,  he  sunk  most  of  his 
vessels,  in  order  to  obstruct  the  channel 
of  the  river. 

Admiral  Arbuthnot  weighed 
anchor  again,  and,  with  a  strong 
southerly  wind  and  on  the  flood  of  the  tide, 
passed  Fort  Moultrie,  in  spite  of  the  op 
position  of  Colonel  Pinckney  and  his  gar 
rison;  only  twenty-seven  men  were  killed 
or  \voimded,  as  the  admiral  triumphant 
ly  passed  and  anchored  his  eight  men-of- 
war  and  two  transports  within  the  harbor, 
near  the  ruins  of  Fort  Johnson,  and  out 
of  reach  of  all  damage  from  the  American 
batteries.  The  British  ships,  however, 
sustained  considerable  damage  in  passing 
the  fort.  The  fore-topmast  of  the  Rich 
mond  was  shot  away,  and  the  Acetus  run 
aground  near  Haddrell's  point,  and  was 
destroyed  by  her  crew,  under  a  heavy  fire 
from  two  fieldpieces,  commanded  by  Colo 
nel  Gadsden;  the  crew  escaped  in  boats. 
"  Fort  Moultrie  being  now  of  less  use 
than  the  men  who  manned  ,it,  they  were 
in  great  part  withdrawn,  and  it  soon  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Colonel 
Pinckney 's  force,  together  with  that  which 


had  served  to  man  the  small  fleet  of  the 
Americans,  was  transferred  to  the  city 
where  they  helped  to  swell  the  inconsid 
erable  numbers  of  the  garrison.  This 
force,  at  no  time,  amounted  to  four  thou 
sand  men ;  they  were  required  to  defend 
an  extent  of  works  which  could  not  be 
well  manned  by  less  than  ten  thousand  : 
yet  even  for  this  small  army  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  provisions  had  not  been  fur 
nished,  and,  before  the  siege  was  over,  the 
citizens  were  suffering  from  starvation."* 

On  the  day  the  British  admiral  made 
his  successful  advance  into  the  harbor, 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  who  was  proceeding 
according  to  all  the  deliberate  formalities 
of  a  scientific  siege,  had  completed  his 
first  parallel.  He  now  demanded  the  sur 
render  of  the  town.  General  Lincoln  re 
plied  :  "Sixty  days  have  been  past  since 
it  has  been  known  that  your  intentions 
against  the  town  were  hostile,  in  which 
time  has  been  afforded  to  abandon  it ; 
but  duty  and  inclination  point  to  the  pro 
priety  of  supporting  it  to  the  last  ex 
tremity."  The  British  commander  now 
rejoined  with  a  severe  cannonade,  which 
was  kept  up  almost  without  intermission. 

The  expected  reinforcements  sent  by 
Washington  at  length  arrived  ;  and  Brig 
adier-General  Woodford,  having  marched 
five  hundred  miles  in  twenty-eight  days, 
with  seven  hundred  men  of  the  Virginia 

o 

line,  was  gladly  welcomed  as  he  entered 
Charleston.  General  Lincoln  had  now 
only  one  communication  open  with  the 
country  by  which  to  receive  reinforce 
ments  or  supplies;  this  was  by  the  Coop 
er  river,  on  his  left,  and  on  the  east  of 

*  Siinms. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         TARLETON  SURPRISES  COLONEL  WASHINGTON. 


725 


the  beleagured  city.  He  strove  to  secure 
it.  Governor  Rutledge,  with  one  half  of 
the  executive  council,  had  gone  out,  leav 
ing  the  other  half  and  the  lieutenant-gov 
ernor  to  perform  all  the  civic  functions 
in  his  absence,  and  was  now  doing  his 
best  to  stir  up  the  militia  to  the  defence 
of  the  country  between  the  Santee  and 
Cooper  rivers,  through  which  was  the  only 
communication  to  the  besieged  in  Charles 
ton. 

Rutledge's  success  was  meager  in  com 
parison  with  the  fullness  of  his  dictato 
rial  powers,  and  he  was  only  able  to  en 
roll  a  small  number  of  militia,  which  he 
divided  into  two  portions,  stationing  one 
between  the  Cooper  and  the  Santee,  and 
the  other  at  the  ferry  on  the  latter  river. 
Lincoln  had  despatched  Brigadier-Gen 
eral  linger,  with  some  militia,  and  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Washington's  corps  of  cav 
alry,  to  Monk's  Corner,  thirty  miles  above 
Charleston,  and  near  the  head-waters  of 
the  Cooper  river.  A  small  force  was  also 
sent  to  throw  up  works  on  the  Wando,  a 
branch  of  the  Cooper,  nine  miles  above 
the  town,  and  to  Lanprier's  Point,  so  as 
to  guard  the  pass  in  that  direction. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  went  on  perseve- 
ringly  with  his  parallels,  and,  while  en 
gaged  upon  the  second,  sent  out  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Webster,  with  fifteen  hundred 
men,  to  strike  at  the  American  posts  on 
the  Cooper,  and  thus  complete  the  inves 
titure  of  Charleston.  The  fierce  and  en 
ergetic  Tarleton  with  his  dragoons,  and 
the  spirited  Ferguson,  with  his  rillemen, 
composed  the  van  of  Webster's  corps,  and 
to  them  and  their  ferocious  followers  was 
intrusted  the  enterprise  of  attacking  by 


April  13. 


surprise  the  American  post  at  Monk's 
Corner. 

As  Tarleton  started  out  at  night  on  his 
concealed  expedition,  he  caught 
sight  of  a  negro,  skulking  near 
his  van  ;  and,  having  seized  him,  he  found 
upon  his  person  a  letter  from  one  of  Hu- 
ger's  officers,  from  which  information  was 
obtained  about  the  American  position. 
The  negro,  moreover,  was  readily  bribed 
by  a  piece  of  gold  to  shift  his  service  to 
the  British,  and  he  became  their  guide, 
leading  them  through  some  neglected  by 
paths  to  the  post.  The  American  guards 
were  on  the  watch  a  mile  in  advance  of 
their  post,  and  Colonel  Washington  had 
his  cavalry-horses  all  bridled  and  saddled  ; 
but  Tarleton  drove  in  and  followed  the 
videttes  with  such  promptitude,  that  he 
entered  the  camp  with  them. 

The  assault  was  so  rapid  and  impetu 
ous,  that  the  American  cavalry  was  rout 
ed  without  resistance.  General  linger, 
Colonel  Washington,  and  most  of  his 
corps,  saved  themselves  by  pushing  their 
horses  across  the  country,  with  every  foot 
of  which  they  were  familiar.  Tarleton 
and  his  dragoons  showed  little  mercy ; 
arid  Major  Bernie,  of  Pulaski's  legion,  who 
was  mangled  shockingly,  died  cursing  the 

o  o   */  '  o 

British  for  their  barbarity  in  having  re 
fused  quarter  after  he  had  surrendered. 
Four  captains,  one  lieutenant,  and  two 
privates,  of  the  Americans,  were  killed, 
and  some  seventeen  more  wounded  or 
taken  prisoners.  Nearly  two  hundred 
horses,  and  a  large  quantity  of  ammuni 
tion,  baggage,  baggage-wagons,  and  mili 
tary  stores,  likewise  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy. 


726 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PAKT    II. 


Some  British  dragoons,  brutalized  by 
the  plentiful  supply  of  ruin  which  had 
fallen  to  them  as  their  share  of  booty, 
entered  a  gentleman's  house  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  and  attempted  to  gratify  their 
lusts  upon  the  defenceless  women  of  the 
family.  The  ladies,  however,  succeeded 
in  making  their  escape,  and  were  protect 
ed  from  further  violence  by  the  interpo 
sition  of  the  English  officers.  The  dra 
goons  themselves  were  arrested  and  ta 
ken  to  Monk's  Corner,  where  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Patrick  Ferguson/1'  who  was  as 
gallant  as  he  was  brave,  would  have  put 
them  to  instant  death.  Colonel  Webster, 
however,  was  opposed  to  the  exercise  of 
such  extreme  measures,  and  sent  the  vil 
lains,  under  guard,  to  the  British  head 
quarters,  where  "  I  believe,"  says  the  Eng 
lish  historian  Stedman,  "  they  were  after 
ward  tried  and  whipped." 

Colonel  Webster  was  now  enabled  to 
establish  a  post  on  the  Wando,  and  thus 
secure  the  whole  country  between  that 
river  and  the  Cooper.  General  Lincoln 
learned  with  dismay  of  this  position,  so 
fatal  to  his  only  communication  with  the 
country,  and  determined  to  attack  it ;  but 
a  council  of  war  being  called,  it  was  de 
cided  that  a  sufficient  force  could  not  be 
spared  for  the  purpose.  Thus  this  post, 
held  by  only  six  hundred  infantry  and 
two  hundred  and  fifty  horse,  was  left  un 
disturbed. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  now7  received 

from  New  York  a  reinforcement 
April  IS, 

or  three  thousand  troops,  under 

*  Ferguson  was  a.  spirited  officer,  and  almost  as  formida 
ble  as  Tarlcton  in  partisan  warfare,  but  freer  from  the 
charge  of  cruelly.  He  was  a  famous  shot,  and  was  as  sure 
with  his  rifle  as  the  best  of  the  American  marksmen. 


the  command  of  Earl  Cornwallis  and  Lord 
Rawdon,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  throw 
a  large  force  on  the  east  side  of  Cooper 
river,  to  complete  the  work  of  investing 
Charleston  in  that  quarter  which  was  be 
gun  by  Colonel  Webster.  As  soon  as 
Cornwallis  presented  himself,  the  posts  at 
Lanprier's  Point  and  on  Wando  river  were 
abandoned  ;  and  the  British  had  almost 
free  range  of  the  country,  although  there 
was  still  some  show  of  opposition  on  the 
part  of  a  remnant  of  H tiger's  force. 

The  American  cavalry, after  its  surprise 
at  Monk's  Corner,  had  withdrawn  to  the 
north  of  the  Santee,  where  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  White  took  the  command.  This 
officer,  discovering  that  Lord  Cornwallis 
extended  his fo raging-parties  to  the  south 
ern  banks  of  the  river  on  which  he  was 
encamped,  determined  to  intercept  them. 
Accordingly,  upon  the  first  notice  of  the 
enemy's  approach,  White  passed  the  San- 
tee,  struck  at  the  foe,  and  captured  most 
of  the  party.  He  nowr  retired  with  his 
prisoners  to  Lenud's  ferry,  where  he  had 
ordered  boats  to  be  in  readiness,  and  Colo 
nel  Buford,  who  was  stationed  on  the  op 
posite  bank  of  the  river,  to  be  on  the 
alert  to  cover  the  transportation  of  his 
men.  Neither  the  colonel  nor  the  boats, 
however,  were  to  be  found,  and  White  in- 
cautiouslv  lingered  at  the  place. 

*/  O  1 

Tarleton,  in  the  meanwhile,  who  was 
scouring  the  country  with  his  usual  activ 
ity,  having  learned  of  White's  late  success 
and  his  present  position,  made  all  haste 
after  him.  On  reaching  Lenud's  ferry. 
Tarleton  with  his  dragoons  made  one  of 
his  habitually  rapid  and  impetuous  on 
slaughts,  and  succeeded  in  killing  and  cap- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SIEGE  AND  FALL  OF  CHARLESTON. 


72: 


April  12. 


luring  between  thirty  and  forty  of  the 
American  cavalry.  Colonels  White,  Wash 
ington,  Jamieson,  and  the  rest  of  the  offi 
cers  and  men,  took  to  flight,  and  escaped 
by  swimming  the  river,  or  hiding  them 
selves  in  the  swamps. 

Though  the  lines  of  Charleston  were 
field-works  only,  the  British  commander 
made  his  advances  with  great  caution. 
At  the  completion  of  his  first  parallel,  the 
town  was  summoned  to  surren 
der  ;  and  its  defiance  was  the  sig 
nal  for  the  batteries  on  both  sides  to  open, 
which  they  did  with  great  animation. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  having  completed 
his  second  parallel,  and  entirely  invested 
the  town  (having  cut  off  the  only  com 
munication  of  the  besieged  with  the  coun 
try),  a  spirited  but  ineffectual  night-sortie 
of  two  hundred  men,  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Henderson,  was  the  last  effort  of 
the  garrison,  when  a  council  of  war  was 

called  by  General  Lincoln.     At 
April  26,  .  . 

this  time  the  flesh  provisions  of 

the  city  were  not  sufficient  for  a  week's 
rations.  There  was  now  no  hope  of  de 
fending  the  to\vn,  and  no  chance  of  es 
cape  by  retreat.  The  engineers  admitted 
that  the  lines  could  not  be  maintained 
ten  days  longer,  and  might  be  carried  by 
assault  in  ten  minutes.  There  was  no 
prospect  of  either  supplies  or  reinforce 
ments.  It  was  therefore  determined  to 
make  an  offer  of  surrender,  on  the  con 
dition  that  the  inhabitants  should  be  se 
cured  the  safety  of  their  persons  and  prop 
erty,  and  the  garrison  allowed  to  continue 
in  arms. 

"  General  Lincoln,"  says  Sinims,  "  was 
disposed  to  accept  Clinton's  offer,  but  he 


was  opposed  by  the  citizens,  who  were 
required  by  Clinton  to  be  considered  as 
prisoners  on  parole."  The  above  offer, 
made  in  council,  being  sent  out  to  the 
British  commander  with  a  flag,  it  was  at 
once  rejected,  and  the  third  parallel  be 
gun,  answer  being  returned  that  hostili 
ties  should  be  rene\ved  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  When  that  hour  arrived, 
the  garrison  looked  for  the  most  vigorous 
assault,  and  prepared,  with  a  melancholy 
defiance,  to  meet  the  assailants  at  their 
ruined  bulwarks.  But  an  hour  elapsed 
without  a  gun  being  fired.  Both  armies 
seemed  to  dread  the  consequences  of  an 
assault,  aod  to  wish  for  a  continuance  of 

the  truce.     At  nine  in  the  even- 

xi     i  p  ,i  •  May  6, 

ing,  the  batteries  oi  the  garrison 

were  reopened,  and,  being  answered  by 
those  of  the  British,  the  fight  was  resumed 
with  more  vigor  and  execution  than  had 
been  displayed  at  any  time  from  the  be 
ginning  of  the  siege.* 

The  third  parallel  having  been  com 
pleted,  Sir  Henry  and  the  British 
admiral  now  demanded  a  surren 
der  for  the  third  time.  General  Lincoln 
saw,  as  before,  that  there  was  no  hope  of 
resistance,  and  assented  at  once  to  give 
up  his  troops;  but  the  inhabitants  ear 
nestly  begged  him  to  make  an  exception 
in  their  favor.  This  exception  was  made 
accordingly  in  his  answer,  but  was  de 
clared  inadmissible  by  the  enemy. 

The  siege  was  now  renewed.  Two 
hundred  heavy  cannon  and  mortars  were 
brought  to  bear.  Ships  and  galleys,  the 
forts  on  James's  and  John's  islands,  on 
Wappoo,  and  the  army  on  the  neck,  uni- 

*  Simms. 


728 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


PART    It 


Hay  11. 


ted  in  cne  voluminous  discharge  of  iron 
upon  the  devoted  garrison.  Shells  and 
carcasses  were  constantly  thrown  into  the 
town,  and  at  one  time  it  was  on  fire  in 
five  different  places. 

The  batteries  of  the  third  par 
allel  were  opened,  and,  under 
their  fire,  the  works  were  pushed  to  the 
brink  of  the  canal.  This  was  drained  by 
sapping  the  dam.  A  double  sap  was  also 
carried  under  the  abattis,  and  the  enemy, 
in  possession  of  the  outer  defences,  were 
close  to  the  main  works  of  the  besieged. 
The  fire  was  constant  and  severe  from  the 
British  batteries.  The  opposing  parties 
were  brought  within  speaking-distance  of 
each  other ;  and  "  the  rifles  of  the  Hessian 
yagers,"  says  Simms,  "  were  fired  at  so 
short  a  distance  as  never  to  be  discharged 
without  effect.  The  defenders  could  no 
longer  show  themselves  above  the  lines 
with  safety.  A  hat  raised  upon  a  cane 
was  instantly  riddled  with  bullets." 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  was  now  prepared 
to  strike  the  decisive  blow,  and  was  about 
to  give  orders  to  begin  the  assault,  when 
at  midnight,  General  Lincoln,  seeing  that 
further  resistance  would  be  sheer  mad 
ness,  called  a  council  of  the  civil  authori 
ties.  The  inhabitants  of  Charleston,  fear 
ful  of  the  approaching  horrors,  should  the 
city  be  taken  by  storm,  with  one  accord 
begged  Lincoln  to  waive  the  exception 
made  in  their  favor,  and  accept  the  terms 
proffered  by  the  enemy.  At  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  a  proposition  was 
therefore  made  fof  a  surrender. 
The  firing  then  ceased.  All  the  guns 
were  silent  at  daybreak,  and  at  noon  the 
continental  troops  marched  out  and  laid 


down  their  arms.  The  British  command 
er  did  not  presume  upon  the  advantage 
at  which  he  now  had  the  town,  but  hon 
orably  agreed  to  the  terms  which  had 
been  before  proffered  and  were  rejected, 
Charleston  was  thus  surrendered,  on  the 
12th  of  May,  six  weeks  after  Clinton  had 
sat  down  before  it  and  begun  the  siege. 

"Lincoln  had  maintained  his  post  with 
honor,"  adds  Simms,  "  if  not  with  success  ; 
had  shown  himself  steadfast  and  firm,  if 
not  brilliant.  For  nearly  three  months, 
with  less  than  four  thousand  ill-fed,  ill-clad, 
and  undisciplined  militiamen, he  had  main 
tained  himself  in  Avails  the  lines  of  which 
required  thrice  that  number  to  man  them, 
and  had  thus  long  baffled  'fully  twelve 
thousand  of  the  best  troops  in  the  British 
service,  headed  by  their  best  generals." 

The  enemy  had  lost  seventy  killed,  and 
had  one  hundred  and  ninety-nine  wound 
ed.  The  whole  loss  of  the  Americans  was 
one  hundred  and  two  killed  and  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty-seven  wounded.  Lincoln's 
force  which  surrendered  amounted  to  not 
more  than  twenty-five  hundred  ;  but  the 
British  estimated  their  prisoners  at  five 
thousand  in  all,  as  they  probably  included 
all  the  citizens  capable  of  bearing  arms. 
Nearly  four  hundred  pieces  of  ordnance 
were  given  up.  The  loss  of  ammunition, 
stores,  and  shipping,  was  likewise  heavy, 
and  was  greatly  deplored  throughout  the 
whole  country.  By  the  terms  of  the  ca 
pitulation,  the  troops  of  the  garrison  were 
permitted  to  march  out  to  a  place  desig 
nated,  where  they  were  to  deposite  their 
arms.  The  drums  were  not  to  beat  a  Brit 
ish  march,  and  the  colors  were  not  to  be 
uncased. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


TARLETON  IN  PURSUIT  OF  BUFORD. 


729 


CHAPTER    LXXX1I. 

Operations  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Proclamations. — Expeditions. — Prepress  of  Earl  Cornv/aliis. — Tarleton  in  Pursuit. — • 
Speed  and  Bottom. — Colonel  Buford  surprised. — No  Quarter. — A  Bloody  Massacre. — The  British  at  Camden. — Sir 
Henry  Clinton  departs  for  New  York. — Lord  Cornwallis  in  Command  in  Carolina. — His  Lordship  as  an  Administra 
tor. — The  Tories  suffer. — Prostrate  Patriotism. — Thomas  Sumter. — Hif  Life  and  Character. — Francis  Marion. — His 
Life  and  Character. — Pickcns. — Guerilla  Warfare. — Hard  Eiders  and  Good  Marksmen. — Success  of  Sumter. — The 
Patriots  encouraged. — The  March  of  De  Kalb. — General  Gates  appointed  to  the  Command  at  the  South. — Northern 
Laurels  and  Southern  Willows. 


1 780, 


AFTER  the  fall  of  Charleston,  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  in  order  to  confirm 
his  conquest,  issued  proclamations,  prof 
fering  pardon  to  those  who  should  return 
to  their  allegiance  to  the  British  crown, 
and  sent  out  troops  to  subject  those  who 
were  still  in  open  resistance.  Retaining 
a  small  force  to  hold  the  town.  Clinton 
despatched  the  main  body  of  his  army, 
under  Lord  Cornwallis,  toward  the  fron 
tiers  of  South  Carolina.  One  division, 
under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Brown,  moved 
up  the  Savannah,  to  Augusta ;  another, 
commanded  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Bal- 
four,  marched  along  the  southern  banks 
of  the  Wateree,  to  Ninety-Six  ;  and  Earl 
Cornwallis  himself  pushed  on  with  the 
third  toward  Camden,  where  Colonel  Bu 
ford,  who  was  on  his  way  to  reinforce 
General  Lincoln,  had  retired  on  hearing 
of  the  surrender  of  Charleston. 

Augusta  and  Ninety-Six  yielded,  on  the 
approach  of  the  British,  without  a  blow. 
Colonel  Buford  abandoned  Camden,  and 
marched  precipitately  into  North  Caroli 
na,  Lord  Cornwallis,  as  he  crossed  the 
Santee,  having  learned  of  Buford's  flight, 
moved  with  a  portion  of  his  troops  to 
92 


take  possession  of  Camden,  and  sent  his 
trusty  Tarleton  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives. 
This  famous  colonel  of  dragoons  was  at 
once  in  his  saddle,  at  the  head  of  his  cav 
alry.  His  corps  had  been  strengthened 
by  the  addition  of  a  hundred  mounted  in 
fantry  and  a  three-pounder;  but  Tarle- 
ton's  impatience  would  not  allow  him  to 
wait  for  these  tardy  riders  :  so  he  spurred 
on  in  advance  with  his  hundred  and  sev 
enty  dragoons.  He  got  so  rapidly  over 
the  ground,  that  in  fifty-four  hours  he  had 
made  a  hundred  and  five  miles,  although 
his  Carolina  horses  were  neither  remark 
able  for  mettle  nor  high  condition.  The 
weather  was  hot,  and  some  of  the  animals 
gave  out;  but  Tarleton  always  pressed 
on  ahead,  followed  by  those  of  sufficient 
speed  and  bottom  to  keep  up  with  him. 

When  within  twenty  miles  of  Buford, 
who  was  hastening  to  form  a  junction 
with  a  force  in  North  Carolina,  Tarleton 
sent  one  of  his  best-mounted  captains  for 
ward,  with  a  summons  to  Buford  to  sur 
render,  while  he  himself  and  his  troopers 
galloped  close  at  his  heels. 

The  captain  overtook  Buford  on  the 
banks  of  the  Wexhaw  river,  and  handed 


730 

him  Tarleton's  summons  to  surrender,  on 
the  same  terms  as  had  been  granted  to 
the  garrison  at  Charleston,  accompanied 
with  this  threat,  however :  "  If  you  are 
rash  enough  to  reject  them,  the  blood  be 
upon  jour  head  !"  Without  halting  his 
troops,  Buford  spoke  for  a  moment  with 
the  British  captain,  and  then  gave  him 
this  brief  and  emphatic  answer:  — 

"  SIR  :  I  reject  your  proposal,  and  shall 
defend  myself  to  the  last  extremity. 

"ABM.  BUFORD. 

"  LlKUTKNANT-COLONKL    TARLETON, 

"  Commander  of  British  Legion." 

The  rapid  Tarleton  was  close  at  hand, 
and,  upon  receiving  Buford's  reply,  was 

ready  for  an  onslaught.  The  hit- 
May  29,  3  ' 

ter  behaved  with  neither  decis 
ion  nor  prudence.  His  rear-guard  of  a 
sergeant  and  four  dragoons  having  fallen, 

O  o  o  ' 

Buford  was  thus  first  apprized  of  the  close 
approach  of  the  enemy.  He  had  barely 
time  to  draw  up  his  men  in  an  open  wood, 
and  send  his  artillery  and  baggage  in  ad 
vance,  when  Tarleton  and  his  merciless 
dragoons,  with  drawn  sabres,  came  down 
the  road  with  an  impetuous  swoop.  Lit 
tle  resistance  was  made ;  and  the  Ameri 
cans,  taken  so  suddenly  and  surrounded, 
soon  sued  for  quarter,  but  no  quarter  was 
shown. 

Tarleton,  who  was  foremost  in  the  at 
tack,  at  the  head  of  thirty  of  his  trustiest 
troopers,  was  dismounted  by  a  chance 
shot.  His  dragoons,  however,  did  not  lin 
ger  in  their  barbarous  woi;k,  but  forced 
their  horses  on,  sabring  their  unresisting 
enemy  right  and  left.  It  soon  became  a 
bloody  massacre,  in  which  no  less  than  a 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


PART    IT. 


hundred  and  thirteen  of  the  Americans 
were  slaughtered,  while  a  hundred  and 
fifty  were,  according  to  Tarleton's  own 
account  of  the  butchery,  so  badly  man 
gled  as  to  be  incapable  of  removal  from 
the  field  of  action.  That  the  British  met 
with  butfeeble  resistance, may  be  inferred 
from  the  fact  that  their  loss  amounted  to 
only  seven  killed  and  twelve  wounded. 

Tarleton  and  his  dragoons  now  rode  to 
Camden,  carrying  with  them  fifty-three 
American  prisoners,  the  few  who  had  been 
spared  in  that  merciless  attack.  Lord 
Cornwallis  received  his  cruel  officer  with 
a  warm  welcome,  and  bestowed  the  high 
est  praise  upon  him  for  his  bloody  enter 
prise.  Friend  and  foe,  ho  we-ver,  have  not 
hesitated  to  speak  of  the  conduct  of  Tarle 
ton  as  an  outrage  upon  humanity.  Even 
in  England,  the  liberal  press  and  all  men 
of  humane  views  denounced  his  ferocity  ; 
and  his  own  conscience  smote  him,  if  not 
to  repentance,  at  least  to  an  attempt  at 
justification.  He  declared  that  his  men, 
on  the  one  hand,  became  exasperated  to 
revenge  upon  supposing,  when  he  was 
dismounted,  that  he  had  been  slain  ;  and 
that,  on  the  other,  his  dragoons  had  been 
provoked  to  rage  by  the  firing  of  the 
Americans  after  they  had  surrendered 
and  begged  for  quarter.  To  the  errors 
of  Buford  may  be  ascribed  the  defeat  of 
his  party  ;  but  the  effect  of  this  wanton 
massacre  was  beneficial  to  the  southern 
country,  in  rousing  a  proper  spirit  of  re 
sentment  in  the  breasts  of  its  defenders. 
The  Americans  thenceforth  were  taught 
to  expect  no  indulgence  from  their  foes. 
The  name  and  barbarity  of  the  English 
cavalry-leader  were  now  synonymous; 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          THOMAS  SUMTER  AND  FRANCIS  MARION. 


731 


June  5. 


and  even  his  mercy  was  deemed  so  piti 
less,  that  "Tarleton's  quarter"  became  a 
proverbial  expression  for  cruelty:  and  a 
spirit  of  revenge,  in  all  subsequent  con 
flicts,  gave  a  keener  edge  to  the  military 
resentments  of  the  people  in  the  south 
ern  states. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton,  after  his  military 
triumphs.,  finally  believing  that  he  had 
secured  the  state  of  South  Carolina  in 
firm  allegiance  to  the  throne,  embarked 
at  Charleston  for  New  York,  with 
a  portion  of  his  troops,  leaving 
Earl  Cornwallis  in  command  of  four  thou 
sand  regulars,  to  carry  the  war  into  North 
Carolina  and  Virginia.  His  lordship,  for 
a  time  unopposed  by  any  active  military 
hostility,  had  an  opportunity  of  exercising 
his  talents  as  a  civil  administrator.  Hav 
ing  left  Lord  Rawdon  in  command  of  the 
division  which  Sir  Henry  had  led  up  the 
Santee  to  Camden,  he  himself  proceeded 
to  Charleston,  where  he  was  ensured  in 

7  o      O 

administering  the  affairs  of  the  state  un 
der  its  renewed  royal  government. 

As  Cornwallis  proposed  to  make  an  in 
cursion  into  North  Carolina  as  soon  as  the 
hot  season  was  over,  he  was  preparing 
his  way  by  an  active  correspondence  with 
the  royalist  inhabitants.  He  urged  upon 
them  to  remain  patient  until  he  was  pre 
pared  to  enter  their  province  with  his 
troops.  But  in  the  fullness  of  their  loy 
alty  they  could  not  avoid  making  a  pre 
mature  manifestation,  and  thus  brought 
down  upon  themselves  a  crushing  blow 
from  the  patriots.  Some  eight  hundred, 
however,  of  the  loyal  North-Carolinians, 
under  Colonel  Bryan,  with  a  band  of  reso 
lute  republican  militia  at  their  heels,  suc 


ceeded  in  making  their  escape,  though  in 
a  sorry  plight,  to  the  British  post  at  Che- 
raw  hill. 

Prostrate  as  South  Carolina  was,  there 
were  still  some  of  her  inhabitants  who 
clung  resolutely  to  their  arms ;  and,  al 
though  forced  temporarily  to  leave  their 
own  state,  they  were  impatiently  wait 
ing  for  a  favorable  opportunity  to  strike  a 
blow  against  the  invaders  of  their  homes. 
Among  these  was  THOMAS  SUMTER,  one  of 
the  most  gallant  of  the  southern  patriots. 
Though  past  the  meridian  of  life,  such 
were  the  fighting  qualities  and  resolute 
spirit  of  the  man,  that  he  was  popularly 
known  as  " The  Gamecock  of  Carolina"  In 
his  youth  he  had  fought  against  the  Indi 
ans,  and  had  served  as  a  soldier  in  Brad- 
dock's  unfortunate  campaign.  When  the 
Revolutionary  War  broke  out,Sumter  was 
among  the  earliest  in  the  field,  and  re 
ceived  the  command  of  the  South-Caro 
lina  riflemen,  as  their  lieutenant-colonel. 
He  was  a  man  of  inflexible  firmness  and 
daring  courage.  Large,  strong,  and  ac 
tive,  his  body  was  equal  to  all  the  trials 
of  endurance  to  which  his  enterprising 
spirit  constantly  subjected  it.  "  Deter 
mined  to  deserve  success,  he  risked  his 
own  life  and  the  lives  of  his  associates 
without  reserve.  Enchanted  with  the 
splendor  of  victory,  he  would  wade  in  tor 
rents  of  blood  to  attain  it."*  He  trusted, 

f 

however,  more  to  personal  prowess  than 
to  military  skill.  He  was  far  less  inclined 
to  plan  than  to  execute,  and  often  under 
took  and  succeeded  in  enterprises  which 
a  more  prudent  officer  would  never  have 
hazarded. 

*  Lee. 


732 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IL 


Sumter's  home,  on  the  Santee  river, 
had  been  devastated  by  the  enemy,  his 
house  burned  to  the  ground,  and  his  wife 
and  children  driven  forth  without  shelter. 
He  now  sought  refuge  in  North  Carolina, 
where  he  soon  gathered  about  him  a  band 
of  his  fellow-exiles,  who  chose  him  as  their 
leader,  and  determined  to  vindicate  the 
rights  of  their  country  and  avenge  their 
own  wrongs. 

FRANCIS  MARION  was  another  of  those 
dauntless  partisan  leaders,  to  whose  en 
ergetic  courage  the  Carolinas  were  in- 

O  o 

debted  for  their  final  rescue  from  the 
thraldom  of  a  triumphant  enemy.  The 
youngest  son  of  a  wealthy  planter,  of 
Huguenot  extraction,  his  youth  was  en 
couraged  with  the  prospect  of  a  life  of 
prosperity  and  ease,  when  his  father  be 
coming  impoverished,  he  was  suddenly 
made  conscious  that  he  was  to  rely  upon 
his  own  efforts  for  support.  The  youth 
did  not  hesitate,  but  promptly  sought  em 
ployment  as  a  sailor.  *  On  his  first  voyage 
to  the  West  Indies,  the  vessel  was  wrecked, 
and  young  Marion  took  to  the  boat  with 
the  rest  of  the  crew,  where  for  seven  or 
eight  days  they  subsisted  upon  the  raw 
ilesh  of  a  dog  which,  like  themselves,  had 
escaped  from  the  wreck. 

After  land  ing,  the  yo  ivthful  Marion  aban 
doned  the  sea,  and  took  to  farming.  In 
the  expedition  against  the  Cherokees,  he 
was  made  a  lieutenant  under  Moultrie, 
and  subsequently  served  as  a  captain  in 
a  second  Indian  expedition.  When  the 
Pievolutionan-  War  began,  he  was  chosen 
captain  of  a  company,  and  assisted  (hav 
ing  in  the  meantime  been  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  major)  in  the  gallant  and  suc 


cessful  defence  of  Fort  Moultrie,  in  June, 
1776.  In  the  late  siege  of  Charleston, 
he  commanded  a  regiment  as  lieutenant- 
colonel  ;  but,  having  by  accident  broken 
his  leg,  he  became  incapable  of  military 
duty.  Leaving  the  city  before  its  sur 
render,  he  fortunately  escaped  falling  with 
the  rest  of  the  garrison  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy.  He  now  took  refuge  in  North 
Carolina,  and  sought,  like  Sumter,  an  oc 
casion  to  redeem  his  native  land. 

Marion  was  now  forty-eight  years  of 
age.  Small  in  stature,  meager  in  frame, 
and  of  a  sallow,  hard  visage,  he  had  not 
a  very  martial  appearance.  He  was,  nev 
ertheless,  a  man  of  great  powers  of  endu 
rance,  which  were  strengthened  by  his 
severely  abstemious  habits.  He  drank 
nothing  but  water,  and  ate  sparingly. 
"His  dress  was  like  his  address  —  plain, 
regarding  comfort  and  decency  only:'* 
He  was  a  reserved,  cautious  man,  and, 
though  well  informed,  seldom  disposed  to 
conversation.  Trusting  to  his  own  fer 
tility  of  expedient,  he  rarely  sought  coun 
sel  from  others,  and  his  success  as  a  strat 
egist  seemed  to  justify  his  self-reliance. 
He  was  a  rigid  disciplinarian,  and  he  not 
only  made  his  men  good  soldiers,  but  took 
care  of  them.  Never  avoid  in  u*  danger, 

O  O         ' 

he  never  rashly  sought  it ;  and,  acting 
for  all  around  him  as  he  did  for  himself, 
he  risked  the  lives  of  his  followers  only 
when  it  was  necessary.  He  was  so  up 
right,  that,  "  during  the  difficult  course  of 
warfare  through  which  he  passed,  calum 
ny  never  charged  him  with  violating  the 
rights  of  person,  property,  or  humanity .""j" 
His  fellow-countrymen,  knowing  him  to 

*  Lee.  t  Ib. 


11 1C  VOLUTION  ART.] 


RISING  OF  THE  CAROLINA  PATRIOTS. 


73S 


be  ft  without  fear  and  without  reproach," 
styled  him  "  The  Bayard  of  the  South  ;"  but 
his  British  and  tory  enemies  denominated 
him  "The  Swamp-Fox." 

ANDREW  PICKENS,  though  born  in  Penn 
sylvania,  and  a  younger  man,  was  hardly 
less  effective  than  Surnter  and  Marion  in 
the  partisan  warfare  of  South  Carolina. 
Governor  Rutledge,  with  a  shrewd  judg 
ment  of  character,  had  singled  out  these 
three,  and  appointed  them  brigadier-gen 
erals  in  the  militia  of  the  state. 

Marion,  Sumter,  and  Pickens,  all  made 
themselves  formidable  in  the  guerilla  war 
fare  in  which  they  were  engaged,  and 
greatly  contributed  to  the  final  triumph 
of  the  Americans  in  the  South.  Their 
troops  were  at  first  few  in  number,  and 
made  up  of  a  miscellaneous  assortment 
of  ill-dressed  and  poorly-equipped  whites 
and  blacks.  All  were  mounted,  and  most 
of  them  armed  with  rifles.  A  few  only 
acted,howrever,as  cavalry, and  brandished 
old  mill-saws  converted  into  broadswords, 
or  knives  at  the  ends  of  poles,  until  they 
could  supply  themselves  at  the  enemy's 
expense  with  sabres  and  lances.*  When 
about  making  an  attack,  most  of  the  men 
dismounted,  leaving  their  horses  in  some 
hidden  spot  near  by,  in  readiness  to  re 
mount  for  either  pursuit  or  flight.  The 
men  were  all  hard  riders  and  good  marks 
men  ;  they  endured  the  longest  and  most 
toilsome  marches  without  fatigue,  seldom 
feeding  more  than  once  a  day,  and  wrere 
prompt  in  action.-j- 

Governor  Rutledge  had,  fortunately, 
left  Charleston  before  the  disastrous  close 
of  the  siege,  the  better  to  employ  himself 

*  Irving.  *  Lee. 


in  other  states  for  the  benefit  of  his  own. 
He  personally  sought  the  several  authori 
ties  and  people  of  'North  Carolina,  Vir 
ginia,  and  finally  Congress,  and  received 
liberal  promises  from  all.  With  these  he 
returned  to  South  Carolina,  full  of  hope, 
to  give  vigor  and  concentrative  energy 
to  all  the  efforts  that  might  be  employed 
against  the  invader. 

•  In  the  meanwhile,  General  Rutherford 
had  succeeded  in  raising  fifteen  hundred 
men,  whom  he  brought  together  at  Char 
lotte,  in  North  Carolina,  the  well-known 
"Hornet's  Nest"  as  this  whig  region  was 
called  by  the  royalists.  This  force  wras 
sufficient  to  discourage  the  approach  of 
Tarleton  in  that  quarter;  and  Lord  Raw- 
don,  who  had  established  a  post  at  the 
Wexhaws,  now  deemed  it  prudent  to 
abandon  it. 

But  time  was  required  to  arouse  the 
country;  and  in  the  meantime,  under  Brit 
ish  auspices,  the  loyalists  grew  active  and 
audacious.  A  large  force  of  these,  raised 
in  North  Carolina,  had  collected 
at  Ramsour's,  under  a  Colonel 
Moore.  A  detachment  of  General  Ruth 
erford's  troops,  under  Colonel  Locke,  at 
tacked  and  defeated  them.  Other  par 
ties  of  loyalists  were  growing  in  both  the 
states ;  but  they  did  not  grow  alone :  their 
rising  sufficed  to  give  new  spirit  to  the 
patriots.  They,  too,  soon  showed  them 
selves  here  and  there  in  North  and  South 
Carolina,  in  bodies  more  or  less  numer 
ous,  mostly  small  and  badly  armed  at 
first,  but  full  of  eagerness,  and  perhaps 
vindictive  passions.  Such  was  the  char 
acter  of  the  small  troop  which  had  re 
treated  before  the  British,  from  the  lowr 


June  22, 


734 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


or  swamp  regions,  as  the  latter  advanced 
into  the  back-country  ;  and,  strengthened 
by  volunteers  from  North  Carolina,  it  was 
now,  under  the  brave  Snniter,  returning 
to  its  native  state  at  the  very  moment 
when  the  cause  of  liberty  seemed  most 
hopeless  to  the  inhabitants. 

"  The  attitude  of  this  forlorn  few,"  says 
Simms,  "  was  no  less  melancholy  than  gal 
lant.  The  British  were  everywhere  tri 
umphant,  the  Americans  desponding ;  the 
state  without  any  domestic  government, 
and  utterly  unable  to  furnish  supplies  to 
this  little  band,  whether  of  arms,  clothing, 
or  provisions.  Never  did  patriotism  take 
the  field  with  so  few  encouragements  or 
so  many  difficulties.  The  iron  tools  of 
the  neighboring  farms,  the  ploughshare 
and  the  saw,  were  worked  up  into  rude 
weapons  of  war  by  ordinary  blacksmiths. 
The  partisans  supplied  themselves  in  part 
with  bullets  by  melting  the  pewter  which 
was  given  them  by  private  housekeepers. 
Sometimes  they  went  into  battle  with  less 
than  three  rounds  to  a  man  ;  and  one  half 
were  obliged  to  keep  at  a  distance  until 
supplied  by  the  fall  of  comrades  or  ene 
mies  with  the  arms  which  might  enable 
them  to  eniiragre  in  the  conflict.  When 

O      O 

victorious,  they  relied  upon  the  dead  for 
the  ammunition  for  their  next  campaign. 
The  readiness  with  which  these  brave  men 
resorted  to  the  field,  under  such  circum 
stances,  was  the  sufficient  guaranty  for 
their  ultimate  success." 

Sumter  was  the  first  of  these  partisan 
warriors  to  cross  the  border  into  South 
Carolina,  and  renew  the  war  with  the  vic 
torious  British.  With  a  hundred 


July  12, 


and  thirty- three  followers,  this 


[PAKT  ii 
irallant  leader  attacked  and  routed  a  de- 

o 

tachinent  of  royal  troops  posted  on  the 
frontier.  This  was  the  first  advantage 
gained  over  the  enemy  in  South  Carolina 

j  since  their  landing  in  the  beginning  of 

I  the  year. 

The  affair  of  the  12th  of  July  took  place 
at  Williamson's  plantation,  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  state.  The  enemy,  consisting 
of  a  large  detachment  of  British  militia 
and  tories,  were  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  Ferguson  (not  the  one  already 
described,  in  the  British  army)  of  the  for 
mer,  and  Captain  Houck  of  the  latter. 
The  royalists,  not  apprehending  an  ene 
my,  were  posted  at  disadvantage  in  a  lane, 
both  ends  of  which  were  entered  at  the 
same  time  by  the  Carolinians.  Ferguson 
and  Houck  were  both  killed,  and  their 
men  completely  routed  and  dispersed.  At 
the  fortunate  moment  in  which  the  attack 
was  made,  a  number  of  prisoners  were  on 
their  knees,  vainly  soliciting  mercy  for 
themselves  and  families  at  the  hands  of 
the  British  officers.  Houck  had  become 
notorious  for  his  cruel  atrocities,  in  the 
very  performance  of  which  the  retributive 
Providence  decreed  that  he  should  be 
slain.  On  this  occasion,  Colonel  Bratton 
and  Captain  M'Clure  particularly  distin 
guished  themselves.  These  two  gallant 
officers  had  already  made  their  mark  up 
on  a  large  body  of  marauding  British  and 
tories,  in  an  affair  only  a  month  previous, 
at  Moblev's  meetinghouse, in  Fairfield  dis- 

*/  O 

trict  (within  a  few  weeks  after  the  sur 
render  of  Charleston),  where  they  had 
attacked  the  enemy,  and,  after  a  severe 
handling,  succeeded  in  dispersing  them. 
One  of  the  gallant  young  partisans,  in  the 


EVOLUTIONARY.] 


EXPLOITS  OF  SUMTER  AND  CLARKE. 


735 


July  30, 


August  6. 


affair  with  Houck  and  Ferguson,  became 
well  known  long  afterward  as  the  distin 
guished  General  Ad  air.* 

Sumter's  success  inspirited  the  inhabit 
ants,  who  came  forward  with  such  alac 
rity  to  join  his  standard,  that  in  a  few 
days  his  force  was  increased  to  six  hun 
dred.  Emboldened  by  this  reinforcement, 
an  attack  was  made  on  the  Brit 
ish  at  Rocky  mount,  where  the 
patriots,  however,  were  less  successful ; 
and  Sumter,  finding  that,  without  artille 
ry,  he  could  make  no  impression  on  the 
enemy's  works  of  logs  and  earth,  retired. 

Ever  active  himself,  and  fearful  lest 
his  militia  might  disband  unless  kept  on 
the  move  by  constant  enterprise,  the  dar 
ing  and  spirited  partisan  leader  attacked 
a  British  regiment  (the  Prince  of 
Wales's)  and  a  large  body  of  to- 
ries,  posted  at  a  place  called  Hanging 
Rock,  eastward  of  the  Catawba. 

The  assault  was  prompt  and  effective. 
The  regiment  of  regulars  was  so  com 
pletely  cut  to  pieces,  that  there  was  left 
only  the  small  remnant  of  nine  out  of 
two  hundred  and  seventy-eight  men  ;  and 
the  North-Carolina,  tories,  under  Colonel 
Bryan,  who  had  been  so  impatient  to 
show  their  loyalty,  were,  after  suffering 
severely,  totally  routed  and  dispersed. 

In  July,  Colonel  Clarke,  with  a  hundred 
and  ninety  men,  proceeded  to  the  neigh 
borhood  of  Cedar  springs,  in  the  Spartan- 
burg  district.  Here  they  were  suddenly 
warned  by  two  women  that  they  would 
soon  be  attacked  by  a  large  force  of  Brit 
ish  and  tories,  commanded  by  Colonel 
Dunlap.  They  prepared  themselves  ac- 

*  Simms. 


cordingly,  and  were  all  in  readiness  when 
the  enemy  came  on,  an  hour  before  day 
light.  It  was  almost  too  dark  to  distin 
guish  friends  from  foes ;  but  the  British, 
expecting  to  surprise  the  Americans,  were 
in  some  degree  themselves  the  subject  of 
surprise.  They  were  met  firmly,  hand  to 
hand,  and  a  fierce  conilict  took  place,  in 
which  they  were  defeated,  and  were  pur 
sued  for  nearly  a  mile.  The  enemy  lost 
twenty-eight  dragoons  and  about  a  score 
of  loyalists.  Most  of  the  wounds  given 
were  with  the  broadsword.  On  the  re 
treat,  Dunlap  was  joined  by  Colonel  Fer 
guson,  and  their  united  forces  amounted 
to  more  than  five  hundred  men.  The 
Americans  retired  without  precipitation 
or  pursuit,  and  with  the  loss  of  only  fivo 
killed  and  thirty  wounded. 

These  gallant  enterprises  of  Sumter  and 
others  had  tended  greatly  to  encourage 
the  desponding  Carolinians,  and  to  abate 
the  panic  which  had  been  occasioned  by 
the  fall  of  their  chief  town.  All  that  was 
wanted  by  the  scattered  bands  of  patri 
ots  were  good  weapons,  ample  munitions, 
and  an  able  military  leader,  capable  of 
showing  the  way.  Hence  the  continual 
call  upon  the  main  army  of  Washington 
for  general  officers.  The  patriots  were 
now  still  further  inspirited  by  learning 
that  regular  troops  were  marching  from 
the  North  to  their  succor. 

While  the  siege  of  Charleston  was  im 
pending,  some  fourteen  hundred  conti 
nentals,  consisting  of  the  Delaware  and 
Maryland  lines,  and  some  Virginia  troops, 
had  been  ordered  by  Congress  to  rein 
force  General  Lincoln  in  defence  of  the 
beleagnred  city.  They  were  confided  to 


736 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


|_PART    II. 


the  command  of  Major-General  Baron  de 
Kalb.  After  some  delay  from  embarrass 
ment  in  the  commissariat  department,  the 

brave  and  experienced  German 
April  10.  ,  .  ,  Ar 

set  out  from  the  camp  at  Morris- 

town  on  his  long  southern  march.  The 
journey,  by  land,  was  tolerably  expedi 
tious  for  the  first  part  of  the  route;  but, 
lacking  means  of  transportation,  without 
cash  or  credit,  and  relying  for  facilities 
of  march  upon  states  so  thinly  settled  as 
Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  the  progress 
of  these  troops  had  been  too  slow  for  the 
succor  of  the  besieged  city.  They  were 
still  on  the  march  when  the  tidings  were 
received  of  the  fall  of  Charleston. 

But  the  march  was  not  arrested.  De 
Kalb  led  his  men  with  a  proper  care,  and 
with  due  regard  to  their  sufferings,  which 
were  great,  through  a  wild  and  almost 
uninhabited  region.  He  had  pushed  his 
progress,  to  the  South  by  the  direct  route 
from  Petersburg,  in  Virginia,  for  Camden, 

in.  South  Carolina.   When  he  had 

•      j     i.  n      »         -11  r> 

arrived  at  Coxs  mills,  on  Deep 

river,  in  North  Carolina,  the  baron  was 
brought  to  a  halt  for  want  of  provisions, 
and  also  by  doubt  as  to  his  future  course. 
No  supplies  could  be  obtained  from  the 
authorities  of  the  state,  and  very  little 
by  forced  contributions  from  the  inhab 
itants. 

De  Kalb  was  obliged,  nevertheless,  to 
continue  his  march,  in  order  to  keep  his 
trcops  from  starving,  as  he  hoped  to  reach 
a  part  of  the  country  where  there  might 
be  found  a  better  prospect  of  subsistence. 
He  accordingly  moved  along  the  Deep 
river,  and  encamped  near  Buffalo  ford. 
whence  he  sent  out  his  forajmiayparties. 

O          O    J. 


<>• 


With  all  his  activity,  however,  he  could 
hardly  obtain  a  sufficient  supply  of  grain 
for  the  immediate  subsistence  of  his  army, 
and  the  only  meat  that  could  be  procured 
was  the  lean  beef  of  the  wild  cattle  which 
roamed  in  the  pine-woods  and  the  cane- 
brakes.  Major-General  Caswell,  in  com 
mand  of  the  North-Carolina  militia,  was, 
moreover,  in  advance ;  and  his  hungry 
troopers  were  skinning  all  the  "  fat  of  the 
land,"  and  leaving  nothing  but  a  meager 
residue  behind  them. 

The  baron  strove  to  induce  Caswell  to 
join  him,  but  he  and  his  militia  preferred 
the  independence  of  campaigning  on  their 
own  account.  De  Kalb  remonstrated,  but 
in  vain,  and  appealed  to  the'state  legisla 
ture  and  to  Congress.  While  thus  per 
plexed,  and  doubtful  of  the  future,  Gen 
eral  Gates  presented  himself  in  camp. 

Although  Congress  relied  with  conli- 

O  O 

dence  upon  the  patriotism  and  devotion 
of  Baron  de  Kalb,  it  was  deemed  best  to 
despatch  a  general  commander  to  organ 
ize  a  southern  army  who  was  better  known 
through  the  country,  and  the  prestige  of 
whose  name  would  induce  the  patriots  of 
the  South  to  rally  to  his  standard.  Ear 
ly  in  the  spring,  Washington,  seeing  the 
necessity  of  more  vigorous  operations  in 
the  Carol inas,  had  intended  to  recommend 
General  Greene  as  the  fittest  officer  to 
lead  the  destined  reinforcements  to  the 
aid  of  Lincoln,  and  to  take  the  general 
command  of  all  the  southern  forces;  but 
after  hearing  of  the  fall  of  Charleston  and 
the  capture  of  Lincoln,  Congress,  without 
consulting  the  commander-in-chief  in  this 
important  matter,  had  appointed  General 
Gates  to  that  momentous  service.  The 


RE  VOLUTION  A  It  f.J 


LEE'S  PROPHETIC  WARNING.— MARCH  OF  GATES. 


737 


latter  was  then  enjoying  a  brief  repose 
upon  his  estate  in  Virginia,  where  he  and 
his  old  friend,  General  Charles  Lee,  fre 
quently  discussed  public  affairs,  and  un 
doubtedly  in  a  spirit  and  temper  most 
unfriendly  to  Washington. 

On  his  arrival,  General  Gates,  of  course, 
superseded  De  Kalb.  The  baron  gladly 
yielded  up  his  irksome  authority,but  mod 


estly  consented  to  remain  in  the  subordi 
nate  command  of  the  Maryland  division. 
Gates  himself  may  have  assumed  his  new 
position  with  no  very  sanguine  hopes, 
when  he  recalled  the  parting  words  of 
his  friend  Lee,  who,  on  bidding  him  fare 
well  in  Virginia,  said,  "Beware  that  your 
northern  laurels  do  not  change  to  southern  ivil- 
lows !" 


CHAPTER    LXXXTII. 

General  Gates  on  the  Move. — Plenty  of  Rum  and  Rations. — The  Troops  inspirited. — Precipitation. — A  Suffering  Army. 
— The  Promised  Land. — Hope  deferred. — Green  Corn  and  Lean  Beef. — Crossing  of  the  Pedee  River. — Marion  and  Ins 
Troopers. — Disappointment. — Junction  with  the  Militia. — Lord  Rawdon  at  Camden. — British  Reinforcements. — Earl 
Cornwallis  to  the  Rescue. — His  Promptitude. — Order  of  Battle. — Battle  of  Camden. — Panic  of  the  Militia. — Flight. — 
Effects  of  Diet  on  Courage. — Good  Conduct  of  the  Regulars. — Victory  of  the  British. — Death  of  Baron  de  Kalb. — 
Gates  goes  with  the  Torrent. — No  Rally. — Tarlcton  and  Sumter. — A  Sudden  Burst. — Pursuit. — The  Losses. — A  Sad 
Train. — A  Mortifying  Picture. — Gates  humbled. 


1780, 


THE  ceremonies  of  his  reception 
being  over  —  the  little  park  of  ar 
tillery  having  fired  a  continental  salute, 
and  an  interchange  of  courtesies  having 
passed  between  the  polite  De  Kalb  and 
his  successor  —  General  Gates  promptly 
ordered  the  troops  to  be  in  readiness  to 
move  at  a  moment's  warning.  This  cre 
ated  great  surprise  and  much  grumbling 
in  the  army,  as,  from  its  long-suffering  in 
consequence  of  meager  supplies,  it  was 
in  an  ill  condition  for  a  march.  The  sol 
diers,  however,  were  encouraged  by  their 
new  general's  assurances  that  an  abun 
dance  of  "rum  and  rations"  was  on  the 
route,  and  would  soon  overtake  them. 

The  troops,  inspirited  by  such 


July  27» 


a  prospect,  hesitated  no  longer, 


and  accordingly  began  to  move.  General 
Gates,  eager  to  signalize  his  command  by 
a  promptitude  of  action  that  might  con 
trast  favorably  with  the  Fabian  policy  of 
other  commanders  whose  slowness  he  was 
wont  so  freely  to  censure,  determined  to 
push  right  on,  form  a  junction  with  Gen 
eral  Caswell,  and  strike  at  the  enemy. 
He  therefore  took  the  route  over  Deep 
river,  by  Buffalo  ford,  leading  to  the  ad 
vanced  post  of  the  British  at  Lynch's 
creek,  on  the  road  to  Camden,  at  which 
latter  place,  about  one  hundred  and  ten 
miles  northwest  from  Charleston,  Lord 
Rawdon  was  posted  with  his  main  army. 
Colonel  Otho  Holland  Williams,  adju 
tant-general,  ventured  to  expostulate  with 
Gates  upon  "  the  seeming  precipitate  and 


738 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


inconsiderate  step  he  was  taking."  The 
country  through  which  he  was  about  to 
march,  Williams  declared,  was  naturally 
barren,  abounding  in  sandy  plains,  inter 
sected  by  swamps,  and  but  thinly  inhab 
ited ;  while  the  scant  supplies  of  provis 
ions  and  forage  produced  on  the  banks 
of  its  few  streams  had  already  been  swept 
away  by  the  devastations  of  the  enemy 
and  the  hordes  of  tory  freebooters.  The 
colonel  advised  with  earnestness  a  north 
west  route,  leading  across  the  Pedee,  to 
the  town  of  Salisbury,  lying  in  the  midst 
of  a  fertile  country,  and  inhabited  by 
warm  friends  of  the  patriot  cause. 

Gates,  however,  was  not  to  be  diverted 
from  his  resolution,  and  persevered  in  the 
route  which  he  had  begun.  His  men 
were  already  reduced  to  the  "scraps"  in 
their  knapsacks,  as  their  only  food  ;  and, 
as  they  continued  their  march,  they  found 
that  there  was  but  little  promise  of  plen 
ty.  The  country  proved  even  \vorse  than 
it  had  been  represented.  With  its  wide 
stretches  of  sanely  plain  and  deep  moras 
ses,  there  was  but  little  cultivation  ;  and 
those  rare  spots  where  the  sparse  settlers 
had  built  here  and  there  a  log-house,  and 
raised  a  meager  patch  of  corn,  were  found 
devastated  and  abandoned.  The  soldiers 
suffered  greatly  from  the  want  of  supplies, 
but  bore  up  manfully  with  the  prospect 
in  advance  of  reaching  the  fertile  banks 
of  the  Pedee. 

Even  here,  however,  in  the  fatter  land, 
the  sufferings  of  the  army  did  not  cease. 
The  fields,  it  is  true,  were  rich  with  prom 
ising  crops;  but  the  Indian  corn  was  not 
yet  ripe,  and,  as  the  harvest  of  the  previ 
ous  year  was  exhausted,  the  soldiers  in 


August  3. 


their  hunger  were  forced  to  pluck  the 
green  ears.  These,  boiled  with  the  lean 
beef,  and  eaten  with  green  peaches  as  a 
substitute  for  bread,  constituted  their  on 
ly  diet,  which,  though  it  satisfied  the  ap 
petite,  did  not  fail  to  produce  severe  dys 
enteries.  The  officers  were  enabled  to 
thicken  their  soup  with  the  hair-po\vder 
left  in  their  toilet-bags;  and  thus  congrat 
ulated  themselves  upon  a  more  whole 
some  repast. 

The  little  army,  however,  continued  to 
move  on,  and,  crossing  the  Pedee  river, 
General  Gates  wras  met  on  the 
opposite  (western)  side  by  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Porterfield  and  his  small 
corps  of  Virginians,  who,  ever  since  the 
fall  of  Charleston,  had  remained  in  South 
Carolina,  where  they  had  continued  roam 
ing  about  the  country,  picking  up  what 
food  they  could  get  by  foraging.  Colonel 
Marion,  too,  had  joined  the  march  with 
his  few  followers,  "  distinguished  by  small 
black  leather  caps  and  the  wretchedness 
of  their  attire.  Their  number  did  not  ex 
ceed  twenty  men  and  boys,  some  white, 
some  black,  and  all  mounted,  but  most  of 
them  miserably  equipped  :  their  appear 
ance  was,  in  fact,  so  burlesque,  that  it  was 
with  much  difficulty  the  diversion  of  the 
regular  soldiery  was  restrained  by  the  of 
ficers  ;  and  the  general  himself  was  glad 
of  an  opportunity  of  detaching  Colonel 
Marion,  at  his  own  instance,  toward  the 
interior  of  South  Carolina,  with  orders  to 
watch  the  motions  of  the  enemy  and  fur 
nish  intelligence."*  It  was  not  long,  how 
ever,  before  the  sneering  regulars  would 
have  gladly  welcomed  back  Marion  and 

*  Williams's  Narrative. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         GATES  AT  CLERMONT— CORNWALLTS  AT  CAMDEN. 


730 


his  men,  to  aid  in  saving  them  from  im 
pending  destruction  on  the  fatal  field  of 
Camden. 

As  the  troops  continued  their  march, 
disappointment  met  them  at  every  step. 
On  reaching  May's  mill,  they  had  expect 
ed  Inrge  supplies;  but,  not  finding  them, 
the  men  began  to  murmur.,  and  threaten 
mutiny.  The  officers,  however,  by  show 
ing  their  own  empty  canteens  and  mess- 
cases,  satisfied  the  soldiers  that  all  suffered 
alike,  and  quieted  them  for  the  time  by 
promising  that,  if  the  expected  supplies 
did  not  arrive,  detachments  should  be  al 
lowed  to  go  out  from  each  corps,  and  to 
pick  up  what  provisions  they  could  get. 

Fortunately,  a  small  quantity  of  Indian 
corn  was  soon  brought  into  camp.  The 
mill  was  now  set  to  work,  and,  as  soon  as 
a  mess  of  meal  was  ground,  it  was  deliv 
ered  to  a  squad  of  men,  and  so  on  until 
all  were  served,  the  general  and  field  of 
ficers  taking  their  share,  and  not  the  most 
abundant,  among  the  last. 

In  his  impatience,  Gates  now 
Aug.  10,  /  ' 

rode  on  and  reached  General  Cas- 

well's  camp  of  militia,  about  fifteen  miles 
eastward  of  the  British  advanced  post  on 
Lynch's  creek.  Next  day  the  army  fol 
lowed  and  formed  the  junction  with  Cas- 
well's  troops.  All  were  cheered  by  the 
event,  and  the  combined  forces  marched 
with  invigorated  spirits  to  Cler- 
mont,  about  twelve  miles  from 
Camden,  at  which  place  Lord  E-awdon,  on 
the  near  approach  of  Gates,  had  concen 
trated  all  his  troops. 

The  British  commander  was  not  dis 
posed  to  disturb  the  American  camp  until 
he  should  receive  reinforcements  from 


Aug.  13. 


Aug.  14. 


Lord  Cornwallis  at  Charleston,  and  in  the 
meantime  he  kept  his  troops  employed 
in  strengthening  his  defences. 

On  the  day  after  his  arrival  at  Cler- 
mont,  Gates  was  reinforced  by  the  junc 
tion  of  Brigadier-General  Stevens,  with 
seven  hundred  Virginia  militia.  His  en 
tire  force  now  amounted  to  three  thou 
sand  and  fifty-two  men  fit  for  duty,  of 
whom  a  third  only  were  regular  troops. 

Earl  Cornwallis,  made  aware  that  the 
post  at  Camden  was  threatened,  hastened 
there  in  person,  followed  by  a 
small  body  of  troops.  He  now 
assumed  the  command  of  the  whole  force 
himself,  which  numbered  about  twenty- 
one  hundred  men.  These  were,  however, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  hundred  loy 
alist  militia,  choice  British  regulars.  His 
lordship,  with  his  usual  promptitude,  had 
been  only  a  single  day  in  camp, 
when  he  was  prepared  to  sally 
out  against  his  enemy ;  and  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night  he  began  his  march  to  Clermont. 

By  a  curious  coincidence,  General  Gates 
had  fixed  upon  nearly  the  same  moment 
to  lead  out  his  force  from  Rugely's  mills 
tow-ard  Camden.  Gates  had  received  a 
request  from  Surnter  for  a  reinforcement 
of  regular  troops  to  aid  him  in  an  attempt 
to  cut  off  a  considerable  convoy  of  British 
wagons,  which,  laden  with  clothing,  am 
munition,  and  other  stores,  and  guarded 
by  an  escort,  was  on  its  way  by  M'Cord's 
ferry  from  Charleston  to  the  camp  of  the 
enemy.  The  general  had  accordingly  or 
dered  a  detachment  of  four  hundred  men, 
including  one  hundred  infantry  and  two 
brass  fieldpiecus,  under  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Woolford,  to  join  Sumter.  In  order 


740 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


to  facilitate  this  enterprise  by  a  diversion, 
ignorant  of  the  arrival  of  Cornwallis  by 
forced  marches,  and  confident  that  Lord 
Rawdon  would  retire  on  his  advance,  and 
fall  back  upon  Charleston,  General  Gates 
had  taken  up  his  march  with  the  inten 
tion  of  posting  himself  near  Camden. 

Colonel  Armand  and  his  cavalry-legion 
led  the  van,  flanked  by  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  For  terfi  eld's  corps  of  Virginia  regulars 
in  Indian  file  on  his  right,  and  by  Major 
Armstrong's  light-infantry  of  the  North- 
Carolina  militia  in  the  same  order  on  his 
left.  The  main  body  followed,  with  the 
Maryland  and  Delaware  regulars  forming 
the  front  division,  in  command  of  Baron 
de  Kalb ;  the  militia  of  North  Carolina, 
under  General  Caswell,  next  in  order; 
and  the  militia  of  Virginia,  under  Briga 
dier  Stevens,  bringing  up  the  rear. 

General  Gates  was  in  ignorance  of  sev 
eral  facts  which  he  might  have  known, 
and  which  it  was  of  infinite  importance 
to  his  objects  that  he  should  have  known. 
Not  only  was  he  uninformed  of  the  rapid 
march  of  Earl  Cornwallis  to  the  relief  of 
Rawdon,  and  thus  underrated  the  British 
strength,  but  he  had  given  himself  little 
time  to  learn  anything.  He  committed 
a  variety  of  blunders.  He  undervalued 
cavalry,  one  of  the  most  important  por 
tions  of  every  army,  and  one  especially 
so  in  a  level  and  sparsely-settled  country 
like  that  through  which  he  had  to  pass. 
Ho  hurried  his  men,  when  fatigued,  with- 

7  O  J 

out  necessity,  and  commenced  a  night- 
movement  with  untried  mrlitia,  in  the 
face  of  an  enemy.  In  this  march  he  ex 
hibited  none  of  that  vigilance  upon  which 
the  success  of  all  military  enterprises  must 


Aug.  16. 


mainly  depend.  Lord  Cornwallis,  on  the 
contrary,  appears  to  have  been  accurately 
informed  of  every  particular  in  relation 
to  the  Americans  which  it  was  important 
for  him  to  know.  It  is  even  said  that  an 
emissary  of  the  British  commander  suc 
ceeded  in  passing  himself  upon  Gates  as 
a  fugitive  from  Camden,  and,  having  won 
his  confidence,  made  his  escape  to  his 
British  employer.  In  a  fatal  state  of  se 
curity,  the  result  of  his  own  self-delusion, 
the  American  general  hurried  his  troops 
blindly  forward  to  their  doom.* 

The  two  armies  thus  moved  on  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  without  being  con 
scious  of  each  other's  approach,  the  deep 
sands  muffling  the  sound  of  every  foot 
step,  until  they  met,  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  at  San- 
ders's  creek,  seven  miles  north  of  Camden, 
and  nearly  midway  between  that  place 
and  Clermont.  A  smart  interchange  of 
small-arms  between  the  advanced  guards 
first  revealed  the  contact  of  the  hostile 
armies;  and  a  heavier  fire  immediately 
ensued. 

Colonel  Armand's  vanguard  of  cavalry 
— '•  a  miserable  apology  for  a  legion,"  re 
marks  Simms,  "  made  up  of  the  worthless 
outcasts  of  foreign  service"  —  wheeled  at 
the  first  discharge  from  the  enemy,  and 
in  their  retreat  threw  the  Maryland  bri 
gade  in  their  rear  into  confusion.  Por 
ts 

terfield,  however,  on  the  right,  with  his 
Virginia  infantry,  held  his  ground;  but 
he  himself  was  soon  carried  off  the  field, 
with  his  leg  terribly  shattered  by  a  can 
non-ball.  As  if  by  tacit  consent,  the  two 
armies  recoiled, and,  bewildered  as  it  were 

*  Simms. 


REVOLUTION  ART.  J 


BATTLE  OF  CAMDEN. 


by  the  sudden  encounter  in  the  darkness, 
now  ceased  from  all  further  hostility,  and 
prepared  to  await  the  daylight  for  the 
conclusion  of  the  strife. 

Some  prisoners  having  been  taken  by 

O  »/ 

the  Americans,  one  of  them  was  conduct 
ed  to  the  general,  who  extorted  from  him 
intelligence  of  the  position  and  strength 
of  the  enemy.  When  he  thus  declared 
that  Lord  Cornwallis  was  commanding  in 
person  nearly  three  thousand  troops  (as 
he  reported)  within  five  or  six  hundred 
yards  of  the  American  lines,  Gates  was 
aghast ;  as  he  now  discovered,  for  the  first 
time,  the  arrival  of  his  lordship,  and  the 
considerable  strength  of  his  force. 

O 

All  the  general  officers  were  at  once 
assembled  in  council,  in  rear  of  the  line, 
when  Gates,  communicating  to  them  the 
unwelcome  intelligence,  asked,  "  Gentle 
men,  what  is  to  be  done  ?"  For  awhile 
no  one  said  a  word  ;  until  General  Ste 
vens,  of  Virginia,  breaking  the  silence,  ex 
claimed,  "  Gentlemen,  is  it  not  too  late 
now  to  do  anything  but  fight?" — "Then 
we  must  fight,"  rejoined  Gates.  "  Gentle 
men,  please  to  take  your  posts."  Both 
commanders  now  anxiously  waited  for  the 
light  of  day,  and  employed  the  remainder 
of  the  night  in  arranging  the  order  of 
battle  for  their  troops  in  the  morning. 

The  American  army  was  ordered  to 
form  with  the  second  Maryland  brigade, 
including  (lie  Delawares,  under  Gist,  on 
the  right;  the  North-Carolina  militia,  un 
der  Caswell,  in  the  centre ;  and  that  of 
Virginia,  under  Stevens,  on  the  left.  The 
first  Maryland  brigade,  under  the  brave 
General  Srnallwood,  was  to  be  held  in  re 
serve,  about  two  hundred  yards  in  rear 


of  the  first  line.  The  artillery  was  placed 
in  the  centre  of  the  first  line,  and  the  light- 
infantry  of  the  North-Carolina  militia,  un 
der  Major  Armstrong,  was  ordered  to  cov 
er  a  small  interval  between  the  left  wing 
and  the  swampy  grounds  in  that  quarter. 
Each  flank  of  the  whole  line  was  protect 
ed  by  a  marsh.  Baron  de  Kalb,  the  sec 
ond  in  command,  took  post  on  the  right, 
with  the  Delaware  and  second  Maryland 
brigades;  while  General  Gates,  directing 
the  whole  in  person,  placed  himself  on  the 
road  between  the  main  body  and  the  re 
serve. 

The  British  right,  under  the  command 
of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Webster,  consisted 
of  a  small  corps  of  light-infantry,  and  the 
twenty-third  and  thirty-third  regiments; 
and  their  left,  under  Lord  Kawdon,  was 
formed  by  the  volunteers  of  Ireland,  the 
infantry  of  the  legion,  a  portion  of  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Hamilton's  Royal  North- 

*/ 

Carolina  regiment,  and  four  fieldpieces, 
two  of  them  six  and  two  three  pounders, 
directed  by  Lieutenant  M'Leod  of  the  ar 
tillery.  The  seventy-first  regiment,  with 
a  six-pounder,  composed  the  reserve,  one 
battalion  being  placed  in  the  rear  of  the 
right  division  and  the  other  of  the  left; 
while  the  cavalry  was  stationed  in  the 
rear  of  the  whole.  The  ground  upon 
which  the  British  halted  was  favorable, 
as  each  flank  rested  on  an  impervious 
swamp. 

At  break  of  day,  before  the  opposing 
lines  were  completely  formed,  the  British 

were  observed  to  be  advancing, 

,    .       ,  .     ,.   ,  Aug.  lo. 

and,  in  the  uncertain  light,  ap 
peared  to  be  displaying  their  columns  by 
the  right.     The  adjutant-general,  Colonel 


742 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[rAttT    IT. 


Williams,ordering  the  artillery  in  front  to 
open  its  fire,  immediately  galloped  to  the 
commanding  general,  in  the  rear  of  the 
second  line,  to  explain  to  him  the  cause 
of  the  fire.  Gates  seemed  disposed  to 
await  events,  and  gave  no  orders  for  im 
mediate  action.  Colonel  Williams,  how 
ever,  having  observed  that  if  the  enemv, 

O  */   J 

while  in  the  act  of  displaying,  were  brisk 
ly  attacked  by  General  Stevens's  brigade, 
which  was  already  in  line  of  battle,  the 
effect  might  be  fortunate,  and  first  im 
pressions  were  important,  Gates  replied  : 
"Sir,  that's  right;  let  it  be  done." 

Williams  now  hastened  to  General  Ste 
vens,  who,  having  received  his  orders,  ad 
vanced  at  once  with  his  brigade  of  Vir 
ginia  militia,  apparently  in  fine  spirits.  It 
was  too  late,  however,  to  attack  the  ene 
my  while  they  were  in  the  act  of  display 
ing.  They  were  already  in  line. 

In  order  to  provoke  the  fire  of  the  Brit 
ish  at  some  distance,  and  render  it  less 
terrifying  to  the  militia,  Williams  led  for 
ward,  within  fifty  yards  of  the  enemy,  a 
small  party  of  volunteers.  These  posted 
themselves  behind  the  trees,  and  began 
their  fire,  but  without  effecting  the  pur 
pose  expected. 

The  British  infantry  now  came  rush  in  o- 

^  o 

on,  when  Stevens,  encouraging  his  men, 
called  out  to  them,  "My  brave  fellows, 
you  have  bayonets  as  well  as  they  ;  we'll 
charge  them  !"  The  militia,  however,  ap 
palled  by  the  impetuosity  with  which  the 
enemy  advanced,  firing  and  huzzaing,  be 
came  i)anic-stricken,a?zJ,//j/wfwyr  down  their 
loaded  arms,  iled  in  terror  from  the  field  ! 
The  North-Carolinians  soon  followed  the 
base  example  of  the  Virginians,  although 


Colonel  Dixon's  regiment  held  its  ground 
long  enough  to  fire  two  or  three  rounds 
of  cartridge.  The  greater  portion  of  the 
militia,  however — which  formed  nearly 
two  thirds  of  the  whole  army — fled  v:ilh~ 
out  firing  a  shot,  with  Tnrleton  and  his  dra 
goons  in  fierce  pursuit.  "It  can  not  ap 
pear  excessively  strange,"  says  an  apolo 
gist,  "  that  such  raw  militia  could  not 
stand  before  bayonets,  when  it  is  consid 
ered  that  for  some  time  they  had  subsist 
ed  on  fruit  scarcely  ripe,  without  any  reg 
ular  rations  of  flesh,  flour,  or  spirituous 
liquors."*  Another  declares  that  they 
were  weakened  bv  the  effects  of  "  a  hastv 

t/  ,y 

meal  of  quick-baked  bread  and  fresh  beef, 
with  a  dessert  of  molasses  "mixed  with 
mush  or  dumplings."^ 

The  regulars,  however,  being  now  left 
to  bear  the  whole  brunt  of  the  battle,  did 
it  manfully.  The  Delaware  and  Mary 
land  brigades,  though  repeatedly  broken, 
formed  again  and  again,  and  renewed  the 
attack  with  such  spirit,  that  the  result 
seemed  for  awhile  in  suspense.  "  The  ar 
tillery  was  lost;  the  cavalry  were  swal 
lowed  up  in  the  woods ;  and  the  regular 
infantry,  reduced  to  a  mere  point  in  the 
field,  and  numbering  but  nine  hundred 
men,  were  now  compelled  to  bear  the  un 
divided  pressure  of  two  thousand  veter 
ans.  But  they  resisted  this  pressure  no 
bly,  and,  their  bayonets  locking  with 
those  of  the  foe,  bore  them  back  upon  the 
field,  in  many  places  yielding  them  pris 
oners  from  the  very  heart  of  the  British 
line.  This  triumph  was  momentary  only  ; 
these  gallant  men  \vere  unsupported.";]. 
The  enemy,  having  collected  their  corns. 

v   /  \_      / 

*  Gordon.  t  Williams.  t  Simms. 


UEVOLUTIONARY.]         DEFEAT  OE  GATES.— DEATH  OF  BARON  DE  KALB. 


743 


and  directing  their  whole  force  against 
these  two  brigades,  a  tremendous  fire  of 
musketry  was  kept  up  for  some  time  on 
both  sides.  Corn  wallis,  however,  finding 
that  there  was  no  cavalry  to  oppose  him 
(for  Armand  and  his  horse  had  never  re 
turned  since  their  flight  during  the  night). 
pushed  forward  his  dragoons,  under  the 
ubiquitous  Tarleton,  who,  having  returned 
from  pursuit  of  the  fugitive  militia,  and 
charging  at  the  same  moment  as  the  in 
fantry,  put  an  end  to  the  contest,  and  com 
pleted  his  victory.* 

Never  did  men  behave  better  than  the 
continentals  ;  but  they  were  now  obliged 
to  fly.  The  only  chance  that  remained 
to  avoid  a  surrender  on  the  field,  and  es 
cape  from  the  sabres  of  the  dragoons,  in 
whom  the  British  were  very  strong,  was 
to  break  away  for  the  morass  in  their  rear, 
into  which  they  could  not  be  pursued  by 
cavalry.  This  was  done, and  by  this  meas 
ure  alone  did  any  portion  of  this  devoted 
corps  find  safety.  "Although  the  royal 
army  fought  with  great  bravery,"  says 
Simms, "  it  must  have  been  beaten  but  for 
the  flight  of  the  militia.  The  terrible  con 
flict  which  followed  with  the  continentals 
proves  what  must  have  been  the  event 
had  the  former  behaved  like  men." 

Baron  de  Kalb,  while  fighting  on  foot 
at  the  head  of  the  second  Maryland  bri 
gade,  fell,  mortally  wounded,  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  Colonel  du  Buys- 
son,  his  aid-de-camp,  preserved  him  from 
instant  death  by  throwing  himself  upon 
him,  and  crying  out,  "Save,  0  save  the 
baron  de  Kalb!"  and  thus  receiving  the 
thrusts  of  the  bayonet  intended  for  the 

*  Williams. 


prostrate  general.  De  Kalb,  having  re 
ceived  eleven  wounds,  died  a  few  days 
after,  and  was  buried  by  the  British  at 
Camden.  With  his  latest  breath  he  dic 
tated  a  letter  expressive  of  the  warmest 
affection  for  the  officers  and  men  of  his 
division;  of  the  satisfaction  which  he  felt 
at  the  testimony  given  by  the  British  ar 
my  to  the  bravery  of  his  troops;  of  his 
being  charmed  with  the  firm  opposition 
which  they  made  to  a  superior  force,  when 
abandoned  by  the  militia ;  and  of  the  in 
finite  pleasure  which  he  received  from 
the  gallant  behavior  of  the  division  he 
commanded/'' 

General  Gates  "  was  borne  off  the  field 
by  a  torrent  of  dismayed  militia. "f  Gen 
eral  Caswell  followed  close  in  his  wake. 
When  the  two  commanders  reached  Cler- 
mont,  they  attempted  to  rally  the  fugi 
tive  militia,  in  order  to  cover  the  retreat 
of  the  regulars ;  but  the  farther  the  troops 
fled,  the  more  they  scattered  :  and  the 
generals,  giving  up  all  as  lost,  and  aban 
doned  by  all  but  their  aids-de-camp  and 
some  twenty  or  thirty  followers, retired  to 

*  "  The  baron  de  Kalb  was  a  native  of  Alsace  (a  German 
province  ceded  to  France),  and  a  knight  of  the  royal  mili 
tary  order  of  merit.  He  was  educated  for  war  in  the  French 
army,  and,  having  been  there  connected  with  the  quarter 
master-general's  department,  his  experience  was  of  much 
service  in  America.  He  had  been  in  the  colonies  toward 
the  close  of  the  French  and  Indian  War,  as  a  secret  agent 
of  the  French  government,  when  lie  travelled  in  disguise. 
He  came  over  with  Lafayette  in  1777,  when  Congress  com 
missioned  him  a  major-general,  he  having  held  the  office 
of  brigadier  in  the  French  service.  De  Kalb  died  at  Cam- 
den  three  days  after  the  battle.  He  was  buried  there,  and 
the  citizens  of  Camden  have  erected  a  neat  marble  monu 
ment  to  his  memory,  the  corner-stone  of  which  was  laid  in 
1825,  by  Lafayette,  when  he  visited  the  grave  of  his  old 
friend  arid  companion-in-arms.  On  the  14th  of  October, 
1780,  Congress  also  resolved  to  erect  a  monument  to  his 
memory  in  Annapolis."  —  LOSSINO. 

t  Gordon. 


BATTLES  OP  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


Aiiff,  15 


Charlotte,  in  North  Carolina,  sixty  miles 
distant  from  the  field  of  battle,  and  thence 
to  Hillsborough. 

On  Gates's  route,  an  officer  overtook 
him  with  the  intelligence  that  Surnter  had 
succeeded  in  his  enterprise  against  Ca 
rey's  fort  on  the  Wateree,  having  taken 
the  enemy's  post,  and  intercepted  the  es 
cort  of  stores,  which  were  all  captured, 
together  with  forty  baggage- wagons  and 

O  «/  C3  O      O 

a  hundred  prisoners.  This  oc 
curred  on  the  evening  previous 
to  the  battle  of  Camden.  The  success. 
however,  was  now  of  no  advantage  to  the 
defeated  commander,  and  merely  served 
to  add  to  the  bitterness  of  his  own  mis 
fortune.  All  lie  could  do  was  to  send  or 
ders  to  Sumter  to  retire  in  the  best  man 
ner  he  could. 

On  hearing  of  the  defeat  of  General 
Gates,  Sumter  began  his  retreat  up  the 
south  side  of  the  Wateree.  His  move 
ments  were  greatly  impeded  by  his  cap 
tured  baggage-wagons,  filled  with  booty 
of  the  very  kind  that  the  Americans  were 
most  in  need  of.  He  was  encumbered, 
also,  by  three  hundred  prisoners. 

Before  Sumter  could  effect  his  escape, 

Cornwallis  had  sent  Tarleton  with  his  le- 

gion  in  pursuit  of  him,  nccompa- 

/lHg«   I  7 1         -11 

nied  by  a  detachment  of  infanty. 
This  prompt  officer  pushed  on  with  his 
usual  rapidity  ;  and  finding,  before  he  had 
proceeded  far,  that  more  than  half  of  his 
horses  had  given  out  from  sheer  exhaus 
tion,  he  galloped  ahead  with  the  remain 
der,  consisting  of  only  one  -hundred  and 
sixty. 

Sumter,  believing  himself  secure  in  his 
position  at  the  mouth  of  Fishing  creek, 


where  he  had  halted,  became  less  cau 
tious  than  he  should  have  been.  Satis 
fied  with  the  precaution  of  posting  two 
videttes  in  advance  on  the  road,  he  al 
lowed  his  tired  men  to  relax  at  pleasure. 
They  accordingly  stacked  their  arms,  and 
began  to  indulge  themselves,  some  in  bath 
ing,  some  in  strolling,  and  others  in  sleep. 
Two  shots  were  heard,  but  were  unheed 
ed,  as  they  were  only  supposed  to  be  fired 
by  some  of  the  militia  out  in  search  of 
cattle.  They  were,  however,  shots  from 
the  videttes,  who  had  thus  endeavored  to 
alarm  the  camp,  and  put  Sumter  and  his 
men  on  their  guard  ;  for  they  had  caught 
sight  of  Tarleton  and  his  dragoons,  who 
were  rapidly  approaching. 

The  British  now  burst  suddenly  upon 
them.  Sumter  strove  to  rally  his  men  in 

defence;  but  although  here  and 

,,  f  i    i       i  -i      Aug.  18, 

there  some  few  struggled  awhile 

with  the  enemy  behind  the  wagons  and 
baggage,  there  was  soon  a  general  rout. 
Nearly  four  hundred  were  struck  down, 
and  either  killed  or  wounded.  Sumter 
himself  and  about  three  hundred  of  his 
men  succeeded  in  making  their  escape 
through  the  woods  and  river,  leaving  all 
their  baggage,  the  stores,  and  the  prison 
ers,  which  they  had  lately  taken,  in  the 
hands  of  Tarleton. 

The  loss  by  Gates's  defeat  at  Camden 
was  heavy.  Two  hundred  and  ninety 
American  wounded  prisoners  were  car 
ried  by  the  enemy  into  the  town.  Of 
these,  two  hundred  and  sixty  were  con- 
nentals  ;  eighty-two  were  North-Carolina 
militia  :  and  of  the  Virginia  militia,  so  ef 
fectual  had  been  their  flight,  there  were 
only  two.  The  Americans  lost  the  whole 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  LOSSES  AT  CAMDEN.— WILLIAMS  S  SUCCESS. 


745 


of  their  artillery,  and  most  of  their  bag 
gage.  Each  corps  was  broken  in  action 
and  dispersed,  and  all  the  officers  sepa 
rated  from  their  respective  commands. 
The  fugitives  were  pursued  for  more  than 
twenty  miles  by  Tarleton  arid  his  legion; 
and  as  they  fled  they  left  everything  on 
their  route,  so  that  the  way  was  strewn 
Avith  arms,  baggage,  and  upward  of  two 
hundred  wagons.  The  entire  American 
loss  was  about  one  thousand  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners.  The  British  loss 
was  also  severe,  amounting,  according  to 
their  own  official  report,  to  three  hundred 
and  twenty-five;  though  one  of  their  histo 
rians  states  it  at  four  hundred  and  thirty- 
four. 

General  Gates  succeeded  in  rallying 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  conti 
nentals  at  Charlotte,  but  the  militia  dis 
persed  rapidly  to  their  homes  in  Carolina 
and  Virginia,  Gates  now  hastened  to 
Hillsborough,  where  he  hoped,  with  the 
aid  of  the  general  assembly  of  North  Car 
olina,  to  devise  some  plan  for  renewing 
military  operations. 

The  scattered  continentals  gathered 
slowly  at  Charlotte,  and  marched  thence 
to  Salisbury.  A  sad  train  moved  along 
the  road.  "  It  consisted,"  says  Williams, 
"  of  the  wretched  remnants  of  the  late 
southern  army,  a  great  number  of  dis 
tressed  whig  families,  and  the  whole  tribe 
of  Catawba  Indians  (about  three  hundred 
in  number,  some  fifty  or  sixty  of  whom 
were  warriors,  but  indifferently  armed). 
Among  the  rest  were  six  soldiers  who  had 
left  the  hospitals  with  other  convales 
cents  ;  they  had  all  suffered  in  Buford's 
unfortunate  affair,  and  had  but  two  sound 
94 


arms  among  them  :  indeed,  four  of  them  had 
not  one  arm  among  them,  and  two  only  an 
arm  apiece.  Each  of  them  had  one  linen 
garment.  Some  of  the  wounded  were  in 
wagons,  some  in  litters,  and  some  on  horse 
back,  and  their  sufferings  were  "indescri 
bable.  The  distresses  of  the  women  and 
children  who  fled  from  Charlotte  and  its 
neighborhood  ;  the  nakedness  of  the  In 
dians,  and  the  number  of  their  infants 
and  aged  persons  ;  and  the  disorder  of  the 
whole  line  of  march,  conspired  to  render 
it  a  scene  too  picturesque  and  compli 
cated  for  description.  A  just  represen 
tation  would  exhibit  an  image  of  com 
pound  wretchedness  ;  care,  anxiety,  pain, 
poverty,hurry,  confusion,  humiliation,  and 
dejection,  would  be  characteristic  traits 
in  the  mortifying  picture." 

As  a  small  offset  to  the  overwhelming 
defeat  at  Camden,  almost  at  the  very  mo 
ment  when  General  Gates  found  himself 
a  fugitive  from  the  field  of  battle,  Wil 
liams,  a  bold  partisan  of  South  Carolina, 
assisted  by  Bratton,  Shelby,  M'Dowal,  In- 
inan,  and  others,  achieved  one  of  his  hap 
piest  successes  at  Musgrove's  mill  (Gor 
don's),  with  an  inferior  force  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  against  a  detachment  of 
British  and  loyalists  who  numbered  three 
hundred,  one  half  of  whom  were  regulars, 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Innis,  sec 
onded  by  Major  Fraser.  Williams  formed 
a  very  pretty  little  ambuscade 
for  his  enemy  along  the  river- 
thickets,  and  by  adroit  management  suc 
ceeded  in  drawing  the  British  colonel  into 
it.  Innis  was  surrounded  by  a  circular 
fire,  at  the  moment  he  supposed  himself 
to  be  riding  down  a  band  of  fugitives. 


Aug.  18. 


746 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[FART  IT. 


The  sharp-shooters  of  Williams  and  his 
colleagues  then  poured  in  their  fire,  and 
rushed  upon  the  foe.  Taken  by  surprise, 
confounded  by  assailants  on  every  hand, 
Innis  and  Fraser  fled  with  their  regulars, 
breaking  through  the  fiery  circle,  but  at 

o  O  »' 

great  loss  of  life.  His  militia  were  left 
to  their  fate  ;  and  such  of  them  as  did  not 
bite  the  dust,  were  made  prisoners.  They 
lost  nearly  ninety  men  slain,  and  one  hun 
dred  prisoners.  Williams,  from  this  and 
other  adventures,  became  the  hero  of  the 
popular  ballad  ;  fragments  of  rustic  verse 
yet  remain,  which  show  how  strongly  he 
had  impressed  himself  on  the  confidence 
of  the  people.* 

But  with  the  defeat  and  dispersion  of 
Gates's  army,  the  British  ascendency  in 
the  South  was  completely  re-established  ; 
and,  at  the  close  of  the  summer  of  1780, 
there  were  no  republicans  in  arms  in  South 
Carolina,  except  Marion  and  his  little  band 
of  followers,  who  took  refuge  in  the  mor 
asses  and  swamps  bordering  on  the  San- 
tee.  General  Lee's  ominous  words  were 
now  fulfilled,  and  Gates's  "northern  lau 
rels"  had  verily  changed  to  "southern 
willows."  Within  the  brief  space  of  three 
months  the  two  armies  of  Lincoln  and 
Gates  had  been  annihilated,  and  one  of 
the  most  formidable  of  the  partisan  corps 
—  that  of  Smnter — was  scattered  to  the 
winds ! 

The  pride  of  Gates  had  received  an  ir 
retrievable  blow,  and,  in  letters  addressed 
to  the  cornmander-in-chief  from  Hillsbor- 
ough,  in  North  Carolina,,  «  he  involuntari- 

*  Simms. 


ly  paid  the  highest  compliments  to  the 
noble  man  whom  he  had  frequently  in 
sulted,  and  at  times  affected  to  despise." 
Conscious  that  official  disgrace  awaited 
him  for  the  disastrous  result  of  the  south 
ern  campaign,  he  appealed  to  the  gene 
rosity  of  Washington  in  language  which 
showed  the  real  confidence  he  felt  in  his 
chief's  justice  and  magnanimity.  "If  I 
can  vet  render  good  service  to  the  Uni- 

*/  o 

ted  States,"  he  wrote,  "  it  will  be  necessa 
ry  it  should  be  seen  that  I  have  the  sup 
port  of  Congress  and  of  your  excellency  ; 
otherwise,  some  men  may  think  they 
please  my  superiors  by  blaming  me,  and 
thus  recommend  themselves  to  favor.  But 
you,  sir,  will  be  too  generous  to  lend  an 
ear  to  such  men,  if  such  there  be,  and  will 
show  your  greatness  of  soul  rather  by  pro 
tecting  than  slighting  the  unfortunate.  If,  on 
the  contrary,  I  am  not  supported,  and 
countenance  is  given  to  every  one  who 
will  speak  disrespectful  of  me,  it  will  be 
better  for  Congress  to  remove  me  at  once 
from  a  command  where  I  shall  be  unable 
to  render  them  any  good  service.  This, 
sir,  I  submit  to  your  candor  and  honor, 
and  shall  cheerfully  await  the  decision 
of  my  superiors."  In  his  reply,  Washing 
ton  confessed  the  surprise  which  he  felt 
at  the  result  of  the  campaign.,  but  spoke 
highly  of  the  bravery  of  the  continental 
troops.  "  The  accounts,"  he  said,  "  which 
the  enemy  give  of  the  action,  show  that 
their  victory  was  dearly  bought.  Under 
present  circumstances,  the  system  which 
you  are  pursuing  seems  to  be  extremely 
proper." 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         KNYPHAUSEN'S  RAVAGES  IN  NEW  JERSEY.  747 


CHAPTER    LXXXIV. 

Knyphansen  in  New  Jersey. — Movements  of  British  Troops. — Mortal  Wound  of  General  Sterling. — Dayton  and  the  Militia. 
--Rising  of  the  Country. — Elizabethtown  spared. — Ravage  of  Connecticut  Farms. — The  Fighting  Parson. — Murder  of 
Mrs.  Caldwell  and  Child. — A  Ruined  Home. — Knyphausen  marches  to  Springfield. — He  is  checked. — Movement  of 
Washington. — Retreat  of  Knyphausen. — Arrival  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — A  Stratagem. — General  Greene  deceived. — 
Marches  and  Countermarches. — The  Struggle  on  the  Railway. — Strong  Post  of  Greene. — Springfield  burnt. — "  Watts 
into  them,  Boys  !" — Retreat  of  the  British  to  Staten  Island. 


1780, 


INTELLIGENCE  of  the  success  of  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  at  Charleston  hav 
ing  reached  New  York,  General  Knyphau 
sen  became  emulous,  and  strove  to  signal 
ize  himself  before  the  arrival  of  his  supe 
rior  in  command.  He  accordingly  deter 
mined  to  make  a  descent  into  New  Jer 
sey. 

With  this  view,  five  thousand  men  were 
thrown  over  in  two  divisions  du 
ring  the  night  from  Staten  isl 
and  to  Elizabethtown  Point.  Brigadier- 
General  Sterling  led  the  first  division,  and 
succeeded  in  making  good  his  landing ; 
but  he  had  not  marched  far  on  the  road, 
when  his  approach  was  dimly  perceived 
in  the  darkness  by  an  American  advance- 
guard.  Colonel  Day  ton,  who  commanded 
some  Jersey  militia  at  Elizabeth  town,  hav 
ing  heard  of  the  projected  incursion  of 
the  British,  had  stationed  twelve  men  on 
the  shore  to  be  on  the  lookout.  They 
heard  the  tramp  of  the  troops,  and  ob 
scurely  discerned  the  moving  mass,  when 
they  challenged  the  invaders,  and,  receiv 
ing  no  answer,  fired  and  retreated.  Gen 
eral  Sterling,  riding  in  advance  of  his  col 
umn,  received  this  random  shot  in  the 
knee  ;  the  wound  finally  proved  mortal. 


A  short  delay  ensued,  while  the  wound 
ed  general  was  borne  back,  and  Knyphau 
sen  came  to  take  his  place.  Dayton,  in 
the  meantime,  mustered  his  militia,  and 
aroused  the  country.  Alarm-guns  were 
fired,  and  signal-fires  lighted  ;  and  every 
patriot  who  could  bear  arms  shouldered 
his  musket  or  brandished  his  pitchfork. 
The  enemy,  however,  came  on.  A  clat 
tering  squadron  of  Siincoe's  dragoons,  with 
their  drawn  sabres  and  glistening  accou- 
trements,led  the  van, followed  by  the  solid 
ranks  of  the  British  and  Hessian  infantry. 
The  undisciplined  militia  and  the  miscel 
laneous  throng  gathered  from  the  neigh 
borhood  did  not  venture  to  oppose  so  for 
midable  a  foe,  but,  leaving  the  village  of 
Elizabethtown  to  the  invaders,  pushed  in 
to  the  country,  where  they  hoped  to  be 
able  to  harass  them  more  effectually,  and 
thwart  their  further  progress. 

Knyphausen,  satisfied  with  the  desola 
tion  he  had  made  on  a  previous  occasion, 
spared  Elizabethtown  from  further  cru 
elty,  and  pressed  on  for  the  village  of 
Connecticut  Farms  (now  Union),  about 
five  miles  distant.  Harassed  on  the  road 
by  the  fire  of  the  country-people  from  un 
der  cover  of  the  woods  and  stone-walls, 


i 




748 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPAKT  n 


the  British  troops  finally  reached  the  vil 
lage,  where  they  met  with  a  spirited  re 
sistance  from  General  Maxwell,  who  with 
his  brigade  had  joined  the  retreating  mi 
litia  under  Colonel  Dayton.  Knyphau- 
sen,  however,  reinforced  by  his  rear  di 
vision,  commanded  by  Brigadier-General 
Matthews,  was  enabled  to  drive  away  its 
defenders,  and  take  possession  of  the 
place. 

Infuriated  by  the  opposition  they  had 
met,  the  British  and  Hessian  soldiery  now 
wreaked  their  rage  upon  the  village  of 
Connecticut  Farms.  They  began  to  plun 
der  and  destroy,  first  gutting  the  houses 
and  then  burning  them.  Among  those 
living  in  the  place  was  Mrs.  Caldwell,  the 
wife  of  the  Reverend  James  Caldwell,  a 
Presbyterian  clergyman.  After  his  church 
had  been  burnt  in  Elizabeth  town,  he  had 
removed  to  Connecticut  Farms, where  the 
parsonage  was  occupied  by  his  family  and 
himself,  when  not  under  marching  orders, 
for  he  served  as  a  chaplain  in  the  army. 
As  the  enemy  advanced,  Caldwell  retreat 
ed  with  his  regiment,  and  left  his  wife  and 
her  children  in  the  village. 

Alarmed  by  the  firing  in  the  street, 
Mrs.  Caldwell  had  retired  to  a  back  room, 
and  was  sitting  on  the  bed,  holding  the 
hand  of  her  child  of  three  years  of  age  in 
her  own,  while  her  infant  of  eight  months 
was  in  the  arms  of  a  nurse  close  by,  when 
a  musket  was  levelled  at  the  window  and 
discharged.  Two  balls  struck  Mrs.  Cald 
well  in  the  breast,  and  she  instantly  fell 
dead.  Her  body  was  allowed  to  be  re 
moved,  and  then  the  house  was  burned 
to  the  ground. 

In  the  confusion  and  riot  of  the  sack 


ing  of  the  village,  it  was  difficult  to  dis 
cover  who  was  the  perpetrator,  and  wheth 
er  his  act  was  one  of  premeditated  cru 
elty,  or  the  result  of  reckless  barbarity 
Believed  by  the  New-Jersey  people,  how 
ever,  to  be  the  deliberate  work  of  a  Brit 
ish  soldier,  the  deed  greatly  exasperated 
them,  and  goaded  the  country  to  a  fiercer 
resistance.  Caldwell,  anxious  for  the  safe 
ty  of  his  family,  and  ignorant  of  their  fate, 
returned  the  next  day,  under  the  protec 
tion  of  a  flag,  to  Connecticut  Farms,  where 
he  found  his  wife  dead  and  his  home  in 
ruins.  Always  a  zealous  patriot,  he  had 
never  ceased,  both  in  the  meetinghouse, 
where  he  was  noted  as  "  a  rousing  gospel 
preacher/'*  and  in  the  field,  where  he  was 
no  less  famed  as  a  vigorous  "  fighting  par 
son,"  to  stir  up  his  countrymen  manfully 
to  resist  their  cruel  enemies.  With  pri 
vate  wrongs  now  added  to  stimulate  his 

O 

just  indignation,  Cald well's  voice  and  arm 
were  raised  with  more  energy  than  ever 
in  behalf  of  the  patriot  cause.f 

Knyphausen,  having  left  Connecticut 
Farms  in  desolation,  marched  to  Spring 
field.  On  approaching  the  bridge  over 
the  Rahway,  at  the  entrance  of  the  town, 
he  was  brought  to  a  halt  by  the  retreat- 

O  v 

ing  troops  under  General  Maxwell  and 
Colonel  Dayton,  and  by  the  discovery 
that  Washington,  with  the  main  body  of 
his  troops,  was  posted  on  the  Short  hills, 
in,  the  rear  of  Springfield,  where  he  had 
arrived  to  check  the  progress  of  the  ene 
my  in  their  march  toward  Morristown. 

*  Irving. 

t  By  a  singular  fatality,  a  little  more  than  a  year  after  the 
melancholy  death  of  his  wife,  Mr.  Caldwell  himself  was  shot 
by  an  American  sentinel  near  Elizabethport,  because  he  ro- 
fused  to  obey  his  orders  ! 


REVOLUTION  ART.] 


SECOND  INCURSION  OF  KNYPHAUSEN. 


749 


The  Hessian  general,  finding  himself 
thus  opposed,  and  disappointed  in  his  ex 
pectation  of  the  people  joining  him  (as 
he  had  been  led  to  believe  from  the  ru 
mors  in  New  York,  that  New  Jersey  was 
discontented  in  consequence  of  the  fre 
quent  impressments  and  forced  levies  of 
supplies  made  to  relieve  the  necessities 
of  the  continental  army),  was  compelled 
to  retreat.  He  found  some  difficulty  in 
crossing  to  his  encampment  on  Staten 
island,  and  being  indisposed  to  return 
with  so  poor  an  account  of  his  somewhat 
pretentious  expedition,  he  therefore  lin 
gered  at  Elizabethtown. 

In  the  meantime,  Sir  Henry 
June  17. 

Clinton  arrived  in  the  harbor  of 

New  York  from  his  triumphant  southern 
expedition;  and  though,  when  he  heard 
of  General  Knyphausen's  movement,  he 
could  not  entirely  approve  of  it,  he  imme 
diately  determined,  as  the  British  troops 
were  still  in  New  Jersey,  and  as  Washing 
ton  had  left  his  encampment  at  Morris- 
town,  to  attempt  bringing  him  to  action, 
and  if  possible  to  destroy  his  stores.  Sir 
Henry  first  landed  his  troops  at  Staten 
island,  as  if  to  reinforce  Knyphausen,  and 
then  re-embarked  them  almost  immedi 
ately  on  transports,  with  the  apparent  in 
tention  of  sailing  up  the  Hudson  on  an 
expedition  against  West  Point.  His  ob 
ject  was,  to  divert  the  attention  of  the 
American  commander  from  Knyphausen, 
that  he  might  have  an  opportunity  of  ma 
king  another  and  it  was  hoped  a  more 
successful  effort  in  New  Jersey. 

Clinton's  stratagem  was  partially  suc 
cessful.  Washington,  thinking  it  possible 
that  the  Hudson  might  be  the  object  of 


the  British  general,  moved  with  a  large 
body  of  his  troops  in  that  direction,  taking 
the  road  to  Pompton ;  though  he  took 
care  to  leave  a  considerable  force,  consist 
ing  of  the  brigades  of  Maxwell  and  Stark, 
Lee's  dragoons,  and  the  New-Jersey  mili 
tia,  under  General  Greene,  posted  on  the 
Short  hills,  in  order  to  oppose  any  move 
ment  which  the  enemy  might  make  tow 
ard  Morristown,  while  he  himself  moved 
warily,  that  he  might  be  conveniently 
placed,  to  push  forward  or  return,  as  cir 
cumstances  might  require.  His  march 
had  been  intentionally  so  slow,  that  he 
had  got  only  eleven  miles  beyond  Morris- 
town,  when  he  heard  of  the  second  ad 
vance  of  Knyphausen. 

General  Greene,  thoroughly  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  the  main  object  of  the 
enemy  was  the  North  river,  and  Knyp- 
hausen's  movement  therefore  only  a  feint, 
had  with  the  greatest  persistence  urged 
the  march  of  the  army  toward  the  High 
lands  of  the  Hudson,  and  was  hardly  con 
vinced  of  his  error  until  the  last  moment, 
when  he  despatched  this  note  by  express 
to  the  commander-in-chief :  — 

"  June  2M,  6  o'clock. 

"  The  enemy  are  out  on  their  march 
toward  this  place  in  full  force,  having  re 
ceived  a  considerable  reinforcement  last 


ni<r 


lit" 


Washington  immediately  sent  off  a  de 
tachment  to  the  aid  of  Greene,  and  fell 
back  with  the  rest  of  his  troops  some  five 
or  six  miles,  in  order  to  be  near  at  hand, 
to  give  him  further  support  should  he  re 
quire  it 

The  enemy,  having  been  strengthened 


750 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


by  Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  his  troops,  be 
gan  their  march  from  Elizabeth  town  at 

five  o'clock  in  the  mornincr,  in 
Jime23, 

two  columns  :  one  took  the  mam 

road,  leading  directly  to  Springfield  ;  and 
the  other  the  Vauxhall  road,  which  makes 
a  circuit  to  the  north,  and  joins  the  first 
at  the  pass  through  the  Short  hills,  about 
a  mile  to  the  west  of  the  town.  The  Rail 
way  river,  one  branch  of  which  flows  on 
the  east  and  the  other  on  the  west  of 
Springfield,  is  3rossed  by  bridges  on  both 
roads,  but  the  stream  is  here  and  there 
ford  able. 

General  Greene,  finding  the  British  ap 
proaching  with  the  formidable  force  of 
five  thousand  infantry,  an  imposing  body 
of  cavalry,  arid  fifteen  or  twenty  pieces 
of  artillery,  made  the  best  possible  dispo 
sition  of  his  meager  supply  of  troops,  in 
order  to  defend  the  village,  to  guard  his 
own  flanks,  and  to  secure  a  retreat. 

Colonel  Angell,  with  two  hundred  men 
and  a  fieldpiece,  was  posted  at  the  bridge 
over  the  Railway,  at  the  entrance  of  the 
town  on  the  east;  and  Colonel  Shreve, 
with  his  regiment,  was  stationed  at  the 
bridge  over  the  branch  of  the  river  which 
flows  to  the  west  and  back  of  Springfield, 
in  order  to  cover  the  retreat  of  Colonel 
Angell's  advanced  pnrty  if  it  should  be 
driven  back.  Major  Harry  Lee,  with  his 
dragoons  and  a  picked  guard,  was  posted 
at  the  bridge  on  the  Vauxhall  road,  with 
Colonel  Ogden  to  support  him.  The  re 
mainder  of  the  brigades  of  Generals  Max 
well  and  Stark  was  drawn  up  on  the  high 
ground  in  the  rear  of  the  town,  flanked 
by  the  militia. 

The  first  encounter,  with  the  right  col 


umn  of  the  enemy,  was  on  the  Vauxhall 
road,  where  Major  Lee  with  great  obsti 
nacy  disputed  possession  of  the  bridge  ; 
which,  however,  he  was  finally  obliged  to 
yield,  as  the  British  forded  the  river  and 
gained  some  high  ground  which  command 
ed  his  position. 

Colonel  Angell,  on  the  main  road,  made 
an  equally  manful  struggle  with  his  hand 
ful  of  men  against  the  British  left  division, 
and  only  gave  up  the  bridge  after  a  con 
test  of  more  than  fort}^  minutes,  when  he 
retired  in  good  order  through  the  town  tc 
the  second  bridge,  where  Colonel  Shreve 
covered  his  retreat,  and  kept  the  enemy 
at  bay  until  called  off  by  the  command 
ing  general. 

Greene,  fearful  lest  the  British,  though 
successfully  opposed  at  the  bridge,  might 
ford  the  river  and  surround  his  small  ad 
vanced  parties,  ordered  them  to  fall  back, 
and  concentrated  his  whole  force  on  the 
heights  in  the  rear  of  the  town,  where 
the  two  roads  meet  and  lead  to  the  pass 
through  the  Short  hills.  Here,  strongly 
posted,  the  American  commander  awaited 
the  junction  of  the  two  columns  of  the 
enemy  and  their  combined  attack.  He, 
however,  waited  in  vain.  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  and  General  Knyphausen,  having  uni 
ted  their  force,  reconnoitred  Greene's  po 
sition,  and  for  awhile  threatened  to  assail 
it,  but  finally  concluded  upon  retreating 
without  striking  a  blow. 

On  retreating  through  Springfield,  the 
British  burnt  every  building  except  four 
houses;  and, giving  up  all  further  attempt 
to  advance  upon  Morristown  and  destroy 
the  American  stores  and  magazines  there, 
which  had  been  the  chief  object  of  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


LAFAYETTE'S  RETURN  FROM  FRANCE. 


751 


expedition,  they  continued  their  retreat 
to  Elizabethtown.  As  they  went,  they 
were  closely  followed  by  the  militia,  and 
were  greatly  harassed.  Parson  Caldwell 
made  himself  conspicuous  in  the  pursuit. 
"  The  image  of  his  murdered  wife,"  says 
Irving,  "  was  before  his  eyes.  Finding 
the  men  in  want  of  wadding,  he  galloped 
to  the  Presbyterian  church  and  brought 
thence  a  quantity  of  Watts's  psalm  and 
hymn  books,  which  he  distributed  for  the 
purpose  among  the  soldiers.  'Now]  cried 
he, 'piil  Watts  into  them,  boys  /' " 


Lee  was  also  active  with  his  dragoons, 
and  picked  up  a  number  of  stragglers  and 
a  large  quantity  of  stores  and  baggage. 
The  enemy's  loss  was  considerably  more 
than  that  of  the  Americans,  who  had  but 
twenty  killed  and  sixty  wounded  in  the 
various  encounters. 

The  British  finally  crossed  over  to  Sta- 
ten  island,  and,  destroying  their 
bridge  of  boats,  apparently  gave 
up  all  further  designs  upon  the  much- 
vexed  territory  of  New  Jersey,  which  had 
hitherto  suffered  so  much  by  the  war. 


June  25, 


CHAPTER    LXXXV. 

Return  of  Lafayette. — His  Warm  Welcome. — Tears  of  Joy. — Good  Tidings. — Dear  Americans. — The  Marquis  welcomed 
by  Congress. — Count  de  llochambeau. — His  Life  and  Character. — French  Aid. — Gallant  Nobles  of  France. —  Recep 
tion  at  Newport. — "Our  General"  in  Rhode  Island. — Plan  of  Combined  Attack.— Sir  Henry  Clinton  on  the  Alert. — 
Movements  and  Counter-Movements. — Lafayette's  Troops. — The  French  Fleet  blockaded. — General  Arnold  makes 
his  Appearance. — His  Disappointment. — He  is  appointed  to  the  Command  of  West  Point. — A  Significant  Request. 


1780, 


THE  marquis  de  Lafayette's  re 
turn  to  America  was  one  of  the 
most  encouraging  events  of  the  year. 
The  young  Frenchman  had  greatly  en- 
'deared  himself  to  Washington  by  his 
faithful  friendship,  and  won  popular  ad 
miration  by  his  generous  enthusiasm  in 
behalf  of  the  cause  of  American  indepen 
dence.  His  arrival  was  welcomed  with 
every  expression  of  delight.  Tears  of 
joy  rose  in  the  eyes  of  Washington,  on 
reading  Lafayette's  letter  announcing  his 
arrival  at  Boston  ;  and  when  the 
youthful  marquis  reached  head 
quarters,  the  stately  cornmander-in-chief 


April  27, 


"  folded  him  in  his  arms  in  a  truly  pater 
nal  embrace."* 

Lafayette  was  doubly  welcome,  for  he 
was  the  messenger  of  glad  tidings.  He 
brought  word  that  his  most  Christian  ma 
jesty  Louis  XVI.  was  sending  to  his  good 
allies  the  American  states  a  French  fleet, 
under  the  chevalier  de  Ternay,  and  a 
body  of  troops,  commanded  by  Count  de 
llochambeau.  The  rnarquis  might  well 
feel  proud  as  the  bearer  of  this  important 
intelligence,  which  he  was  permitted  as 
yet  only  to  communicate  to  Washington 
and  to  Congress.  The  result  which  he 

*  Irving. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


announced  was-  greatly  due  to  his  own 
efforts  in  his  secret  mission  to  the  court 
of  Versailles.  So  zealous  was  he  in  be 
half  of  the  American  cause,  and  so  per 
suasive  were  his  appeals,  that  old  Count 
de  Maurepas,  the  French  prime  minister, 
remarked  one  day  in  council,  "  It  is  for 
tunate  for  the  king  that  Lafayette  does 
not  take  it  into  his  head  to  strip  Versailles 
of  its  furniture,  to  send  to  his  dear  Americans., 
as  his  majesty  would  be  unable  to  refuse  it  /"* 

In  addition  to  the  request  for  troops 
and  vessels-of-war  for  the  American  ser 
vice,  the  marquis  had  also  asked  for  large 
supplies  of  clothing,  arms,  and  ammuni 
tion,  for  the  patriot  army.  But  he  did 
not  ask  more  of  others  than  he  was  wil 
ling  to  do  himself.  He  purchased  on  his 
own  account,  and  brought  with  him  to 
America,  a  large  quantity  of  military  equi 
page,  which  he  presented  to  the  officers 
of  light- infantry  which  he  commanded 
during  the  next  campaigns. 

With  skill  and  foresight,  Lafayette  had 
likewise  planned  the  terms  of  the  milita 
ry  alliance  before  he  left  France,  so  as  to 
leave  nothing  in  point  of  courtesy  or  eti 
quette  to  be  settled  thereafter  between 
the  two  commanders-in-chief;  these  terms 
Avere  embodied  in  the  instructions  of  the 
French  minister  to  Count  Rochambeau, 
and  were  intended  to  promote  perfect 
harmony  between  the  officers  and  troops 
of  the  two  nations.  The  French  were  to 
be,  in  all  cases,  under  the  general  com 
mand  of  Washington  ;  and  when  the  two 
armies  should  be  united,  they  were  to  be 
considered  as  auxiliary  to  the  Americans, 
and  to  yield  precedence  by  taking  the  left. 

*  Sp-n-ks. 


The  American  officers  were  to  command 
French  officers  of  equal  rank  ;  and  in  all 
military  acts  and  capitulations  the  Amer 
ican  generals  were  to  be  named  first,  and 
to  sign  first.  So  judiciously  were  these 
instructions  drawn,  that  perfect  harmony 
subsisted  between  the  two  armies  from 
the  moment  of  the  arrival  of  the  French 
till  their  departure,  two  years  afterward.* 
As  a  token  of  friendship  and  alliance, 
Washington  recommended  his  officers  to 
wear  a  cockade  of  white  and  black  inter 
mixed,  the  American  cockade  being  black, 
and  that  of  the  French  white,  the  latter 
being  the  color  of  the  reigning  house  of 
Bourbon. 

From  headquarters,  in  New  Jersey,  La- 
fa.yette  hastened  to  Philadelphia,  where 
he  was  welcomed  by  Congress  with  a  com 
plimentary  resolution,  in  which  his  re 
turn  to  America  was  acknowledged  as  a 
proof  of  his  disinterested  zeal,  and  the 
offer  of  his  services  accepted  with  pleas 
ure. 

The  French  fleet,  which  sailed  from 
France  on  the  1st  of  May,  wTas  seen  off 
the  capes  of  Virginia  on  the  4th  of  July, 
and  at  length  safely  entered  the  harbor 
of  Newport,  in  Rhode  Island.  It 
consisted  of  seven  ships-of-the 
line,  several  frigates,  and  a  number  of 
transports  (including  two  bornb-vessels), 
which  had  on  board  six  thousand  troops. 
The  land-force  was  commanded  by  Count 
de  Rochambeau  and  the  fleet  by  Cheva 
lier  de  Ternay.f 

Rochambeau  was  a  veteran  officer,  who 
had  served  with  honor  against  the  Prus- 

*  Liossing. 

t  Tenuiy  died  at  Newport  while  in  command  of  the  fleet. 


July  12, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COUNT  DE  ROCHAMBEAU  ARRIVES  AT  NEWPORT. 


753 


siansand  English  serving  under  Frederick 
the  Great,  in  the  Seven  Years'  War.  His 
name  was  JEAN  BAPTISTE  DONATIEN  DE  Vi- 
MEUR,  though  he  is  more  generally  known 
by  his  title  of  Comte  de  Rocliambeau.  He 
was  born  at  Vendome,  in  1725,  and  en 
tered  the  army  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  In 
1746,  he  became  aid-de-camp  to  Louis 
Philippe,  duke  of  Orleans  (the  father  of 
Philippe  Eyalite,  who  was  beheaded  in  the 
Re  volution, and  grand  father  of  King  Louis 
Philippe).  Afterward  obtaining  the  com 
mand  of  the  regiment  of  La  Marche,  he 
distinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  La- 
feldt,  where  he  was  wounded.  He  won 
fresh  laurels  at  Cre veldt;  at  the  battle 
of  Minden,  where  the  French  received  a 
terrible  defeat;  and  also  at  Corbach  and 
Clostercamp.  For  these  services  he  was 
made  lieutenant-general.* 

As  soon  as  it  became  known  that  troops 
were  to  be  sent  to  the  United  States,  the 
young  French  nobility  zealously  sought 
to  serve  under  Washington,  who  had  been 
appointed  by  Louis  XVI.  lieutenant-gen 
eral  of  France,  and  vice-admiral  of  its 
fleet,  in  order  that,  as  before  remarked, 
the  French  officers  might  be  made  subor 
dinate  to  the  American  commander-in- 

*  After  the  return  of  Count  de  Rochambeau  from  Amer 
ica,  he  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  marshal  by  Louis  XVI., 
and,  after  the  French  Revolution,  he  was  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  army  of  the  north  ;  but  he  was  superseded 
by  more  active  officers,  and,  being  calumniated  by  the  pop 
ular  journalists,  he  addressed  to  the  National  Assembly  at 
Paris  a  vindication  of  his  conduct.  A  decree  of  approbation 
was  consequently  passed  in  May,  1792,  and  he  retired  to  his 
estate,  near  Vendomo,  with  a  determination  to  interfere  no 
more  with  public  affairs.  He  was  subsequently  arrested, 
and  narrowly  escaped  suffering  death,  under  the  tyranny  of 
Robespierre.  In  1803,  he  was  presented  to  Napoleon,  then 
first  consul,  who  granted  him  a  pension,  and  the  cross  of 
grand  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  He  died  ia  1807,  at 
the  advanced  age  of  eighty-one  years. 

95 


chief,  without  wounding  their  national 
sensibility.  As  more  offered  themselves 
for  appointments  than  the  service  re 
quired,  many  eager  solicitors  were  disap 
pointed.  Those  who  came  were  among 
the  noblest  and  most  gallant  youth  of 
France. 

There  was  the  handsome,  witty,  and 
brave,  but  profligate,  duke  de  Lauzun,  at 
the  head  of  his  legion  ;  there  was  the  mar 
quis  de  Chastellux,*  a  relative  of  Lafay 
ette,  a  soldier,  courtier,  and  a  man  of  let 
ters  ;  and  there  was  the  son  of  the  count 
de  Rochambeau,  in  command  of  the  regi 
ment  of  Auvergne,  which  his  father  had 
often  led  to  victory.  They  had  "  brought 
out  with  them,"  said  the  count  himself, 
"  the  heroic  and  chivalrous  courage  of  the 
ancient  French  nobility." 

The  first  impression,  on  the  arrival  of 
the  French  at  Newport,  does  not  seem  to 
have  been  encouraging.  "  I  landed  with 
my  staflfj"  wrote  the  general,  K  without 
troops  ;  nobody  appeared  in  the  streets  ; 
those  at  the  window's  looked  sad  and  de 
pressed."  In  a  short  time,  however,  there 
was  an  agreeable  change.  "I  spoke  to 
the  principal  persons  of  the  place,"  con 
tinues  the  count,  "  and  told  them,  as  I 
wrote  to  General  Washington,that  this  was 
merely  the  advanced  guard  of  a  greater 
force,  and  that  the  king  was  determined 
to  support  them  with  his  whole  power. 
In  twenty-four  hours  their  spir 
its  rose,  and  last  night  all  the 
streets,  houses,  and  steeples,  were  illinni- 
nated,_in  the  midst  of  fireworks  and  the 
greatest  rejoicings." 

*  Francis  John  Chastellux,  a  field-marshal,  was  the  au 
thor  of  "Travels  in  North  America,"  &c. 


July  13. 


754 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[I'AKT    II. 


General  Heath  bad  been  ordered  by 
"Washington  to  proceed  to  Ehode  Island, 
in  order  that  he  might  be  present  to  give 
advice  and  assistance,  as  well  as  to  do  the 
honors  suitable  to  the  occasion.  As  soon 
as  the  French  fleet  appeared  off  the  coast, 
"our  general"*  immediately  prepared  to 
cross  over  from  Providence  to  Newport; 
but  the  day  being  calm,  the  packet  did 
not  reach  the  town  until  twelve  o'clock 
at  ni$?ht.  General  Rochambeau  had  gone 

O  *-> 

on  shore  in  the  evening.  Early  the  next 
morning,  General  Heath  likewise  went 
ashore,  and  waited  on  the  count;  from 
which  moment  the  warmest  friendship 
commenced  between  "our  general,  the 
count,  and  all  the  French  officers." 

Lafayette  also  hastened  to  greet  his 
compatriots, and  confer  with  Rochambeau 
upon  the  plans  of  a  campaign  which  had 
been  concerted  with  Washington.  The 
arrival  of  the  French  was  announced  to 
the  troops  in  general  orders,  and 
the  commander-in-chief  express 
ed  the  hope  that  the  only  contention  be 
tween  the  two  armies  would  be,  to  excel 
each  other  in  good  offices  and  in  the  dis 
play  of  every  military  virtue.  He  was, 
however,  in  a  state  of  great  solicitude, 
when  he  reflected  upon  the  utter  weak 
ness  of  the  American  army  at  this  time, 
from  the  want  of  supplies  of  every  kind, 
and  the  miserably  deficient  state  of  the 
quartermaster's  and  commissary's  depart 
ments.  The  army,  in  the  plan  of  the  cam 
paign  of  1780,had  been  lixed  by  Congress 
at  thirty-five  thousand  two 'hundred  and 
eleven  men  ;  instead  of  which,  the  actual 

*  General  Heath,  who,  us  the  reader  will  recollect,  always 
spciiks  of  himself  as  "our  general." 


July  20, 


force  in  the  field  and  under  arms,  at  the 
end  of  June,  amounted  to  only  about  five 
thousand  five  hundred  men  !  Indeed,  the 
allied  forces  of  the  Americans  and  French 
were  still  inferior  to  those  of  the  British 
commander  at  New  York. 

The  plan  drawn  up  by  Washington, and 
now  submitted  by  Lafayette  to  the  French 
general  and  admiral,  was,  to  attack  New 
York  with  the  combined  forces.  Wash 
ington  was  to  march  upon  the  city  by 
land,  in  conjunction  with  Rochambeau, 
who  was  to  debark  on  Long  island  with 
his  troops;  while  De  Ternny  was  to  at 
tack  the  British  squadron,  or  blockade  it 
in  the  harbor.  The  plan,  however,  was 
defeated  for  the  present  by  tlie  arrival  of 
Admiral  Graves  at  New  York  with  six 
ships-of-the-line,  which  gave  the  British 
the  naval  superiority.  It  was  now  re 
solved  to  postpone  the  expedition  until 
the  arrival  of  the  second  division  of  the 
French  force,  which  had  been  left  at  Brest, 
awaiting  transports;  or  of  the  squadron 
of  the  count  de  Guichen,  which  was  daily 
expected  from  the  West  Indies. 

In  the  meantime,  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
having  obtained  information  of  the  pro 
posed  project  of  the  allies,  determined  to 
thwart  it  by  attacking  the  French  at  New 
port.  He  therefore  embarked  eight  thou 
sand  men  and  sailed  up  Long-island  sound 
with  his  transports ;  while  Admiral  Ar- 
buthnot  put  to  sea  with  his  squadron,  in 
order  to  co-operate. 

Washington  nowr  proposed  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  the  absence  of  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton,  and  either  to  strike  a  blow  at  New 
York,  or  to  make  such  a-  demonstration 
as  would  cause  the  British  commander  to 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         INACTION  OF  THE  ALLIES.— GENERAL  ARNOLD. 


755 


return  to  its  defence,  and  abandon  his  at 
tack  upon  Newport.  The  army,  which 
was  on  the  west,  was  accordingly  thrown 
across  to  the  east  side  of  the  North  river. 
The  troops  were  ordered  to  disencumber 
themselves  of  all  their  heavy  baggage, 
which,  with  the  women  and  children,  was 
sent  to  West  Point.  Provisions  for  two 
days  were  cooked  in  advance,  the  horses 
of  the  baggage-wagons  were  kept  con 
stantly  in  harness,  and  every  man  was 
ordered  to  be  in  readiness  to  march  at  a 
moment's  notice. 

The  young  Lafayette  was  among  the 
most  eager.  He  was  now  in  command 
of  a  light-infantry  corps,  consisting  of  two 
brigades,  selected  from  the  different  regi 
ments  of  the  army.  He  had  supplied  his 
officers  and  men,  as  we  have  seen,  with 
extra  equipments,  at  his  own  expense ; 
and  with  conscious  pride  he  displayed  his 
troops  in  review  before  Washington  and 
his  general  officers,  by  all  of  whom  they 
were  pronounced  to  be,  in  accoutrement 
and  bearing,  equal  to  any  soldiers  in  the 
world.  Their  uniform  was  neat,  each  man 
wearing  a  leathern  helmet,  with  a  crest  of 
horse-hair.  Both  officers  and  privates  car 
ried  swords,  which  Lafayette  had  himself 
brought  from  France  and  presented  to 
them.  The  marquis  was  also  anxious  to 
prove  that  his  corps  was  no  less  effective 
in  the  field  than  showy  on  parade.  He 
was,  however,  disappointed  in  his  martial 
aspirations. 

On   discovering;  Washington's   move- 

O  C5 

merit  across  the  Hudson,  and  his  prepa 
rations  for  a  inarch  upon  New  York,  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  gave  up  his  part  of  the 
proposed  attack  on  Rhode  island,  and  re 


turned  with  his  land-forces  to  his  head 
quarters;  while  Admiral  Arbuthnot  pro 
ceeded  to  blockade  the  French  fleet  in 
the  harbor  of  Newport,  and  to  endeavor 
to  cut  off  the  expected  reinforcements. 
Intelligence  soon  came  that  the  second 
division  of  the  French  armament  was 
blockaded  at  Brest  by  an  English  squad 
ron,  and  that  the  count  de  Guichen  had 
sailed  from  the  West  Indies  for  Europe. 
This  compelled  the  allies  to  abandon  all 
thought  of  an  attack  upon  New  York, 
and  forced  Rochambeau  to  continue  in 
active  during  the  remainder  of  the  year. 

The  American  army  now  recrossed  the 
Hudson,  leaving  a  small  detachment  to 
raise  some  works  and  establish  a  post  at 
Dobb's  ferry,  on  the  eastern  side,  in  or 
der  to  secure  a  communication  for  future 
operations  against  New  York,  if  found  to 
be  practicable.  Washington  took  post  at 
Orangetown  (or  Old  Tappan),  opposite 
Dobb's  ferry,  where  he  remained  until 
winter. 

While  the  army  was  crossing  the  river 
at  King's  ferry  —  when  the  movement 
against  New  York  was  contem 
plated,  and  Washington  was  on 
horseback,  directing  the  passage  of  the 
last  division  —  General  Arnold  suddenly 
presented  himself.  He  seemed  anxious 
to  know,  and  hurriedly  asked,  what  place 
had  been  assigned  to  him.  The  general- 
in-chief  answered  that  it  was  the  left  wing, 
which  was  the  post  of  honor,  and  which 
was  his  right  by  rank.  Arnold  made  no 
response,  but  his  face  was  quickly  cloud 
ed  with  an  expression  of  dissatisfaction. 
Washington,  deeply  engaged  in  directing 
the  movement  of  his  troops,  had  no  time 


July  31, 


i 


756 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


for  further  parley,  and  dismissed  Arnold, 
with  a  courteous  request  that  he  would 
ride  to  headquarters,  where  he  would  soon 
see  and  speak  with  him  more  at  leisure 
in  regard  to  the  matter. 

On  Washington's  return,  he  learned 
from  Colonel  Tilghman,  his  aid-de-camp, 
that  Arnold  had  been  speaking  freely 
with  him  about  his  interview  with  the 
commander-in-chief,  and  had  expressed 
his  disappointment  at  the  result,  declar 
ing  that  in  consequence  of  his  wound  he 
was  unfit  for  the  field,  and  that  the  only 
post  at  which  he  could  do  good  service 
was  West  Point.  Washington  seemed  to 
be  surprised,  for  this  was  so  unlike  the 
daring  Arnold,  to  prefer  the  restriction 
of  garrison-duty  to  the  free  action  of  the 

o  */ 

field !  Still,  he  was  aware  that  Arnold 
had  before  expressed  a  desire  for  the  com 
mand  at  West  Point,  although  he  believed 
that  this  had  been  a  mere  passing  caprice 
of  that  restless  officer,  and  not  the  ear 
nest  wish  of  his  heart. 

General  Arnold,  however,  was  deeply 
in  earnest,  and  had  been  so  ever  since  he 
had  solicited  the  command.  Thus,  he  had 
urged  in  his  behalf  the  interposition  of  his 
friends  in  Congress,  and  the  exercise  of 
the  influence  of  General  Schuyler  and  of 
Mr.  Robert  R.  Livingston,  the  member 
from  New  York,  who  wrote  to  Washing 
ton,  asking  for  the  appointment  of  Arnold 
to  the  command  at  West  Point,  upon  the 
ground  that  he  was  not  only  an  officer  of 
tried  courage  and  ability,  but  stood  high 
in  the  estimation  of  the  people  of  New 
York,  and  was  popular  with  the  militia, 
whose  services  would  be  required.  Liv- 


8. 


i,  however,  made  no  allusion  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  been  prompted  by  Ar 
nold  himself  to  make  this  application,  and 
left  it  to  be  inferred  by  Washington  that 
his  only  motive  was  the  suitableness  of 
the  appointment. 

Recalling  to  mind  the  previous  solici 
tations  which  had  been  made,  and  now 
finding  that  Arnold  himself  was  resolute 
ly  bent  upon  obtaining  the  appointment, 
Washington  no  longer  hesitated,  but  gave 
him  the  command  at  West  Point,  whither 
he  immediately  proceeded.  Ar- 

All! 

nold's  headquarters  were  estab 
lished  at  the  former  residence  of  Colonel 
Beverly  Robinson,  a  loyalist  in  the  ser 
vice  of  Great  Britain.  The-  "  Robinson 
house,"  as  it  was  called,  is  situated  (for  it 
still  exists)  on  the  eastern  and  opposite 
bank  of  the  Hudson  to  that  of  West  Point, 
and  between  two  and  three  miles  below 
that  post. 

On  taking  leave  of  Washington  and  his 
officers,  when  about  to  assume  his  com 
mand,  General  Arnold  suggested  to  La 
fayette,  who  had  spies  in  his  pay  at  New 
York,  that,  as  their  intelligence  might 
sometimes  come  more  conveniently  by 
the  way  of  West  Point,  it  would  be  as 
well  to  intrust  him  (Arnold)  with  their 
names,  that  intercourse  with  them  miVht 

o 

be  thus  facilitated.  The  young  marquis 
unhesitatingly  declined,  on  the  principle 
that  he  was  bound  in  honor  to  keep  the 
names  of  the  spies  to  himself.  Nothinf 
more,  at  the  time,  was  thought  of  it;  but 
subsequent  events  revived  its  remem 
brance,  and  gave  great  significance  to 
Arnold's  request. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         SCHEMES  AND  PECULATIONS  OF  ARNOLD. 


757 


CHAPTER   LXXXVI. 

General  Arnold  as  Governor  of  Philadelphia. — His  Restlessness. — Abortive  Schemes. — Suspicious  Conduct. — Charges. - 
Resignation. — Splendor  and  Expense. — The  Penn  House. — Banquets. — Coach-and-Fonr. — The  Marriage. — A  Reign 
ing  Toast. — The  Beautiful  Margaret  Sliippen. — A  Needy  Prodigal. — Verdict  of  the  Court-Martial. — Gentle  Words  of 
Washington. — A  Sore  Conscience. — Desperation. — A  French  Rebuke. — Good  Advice. — Contemplated  Treason. — 
Arnold's  Unpopularity. — His  Correspondence  with  Major  Andre. — "  Gtistavus." — Life  of  Major  Andre. — A  Youthful 
Adjutant. 


1780. 


GENERAL  ARNOLD,  it  will  be  recol 
lected,  was  appointed  military  gov 
ernor  of  Philadelphia  in  May,  1778,  im 
mediately  after  the  evacuation  of  that 
city  by  the  British  troops  under  Sir  Hen 
ry  Clinton.  Here  he  soon  incurred  the 
dislike  of  the  inhabitants  by  his  arbitrary 
conduct,  and  their  suspicion  by  his  equiv 
ocal  transactions.  His  restlessness  of  dis 
position,  or  his  desire  to  escape  from  the 
observation  of  those  who  regarded  him 
with  no  friendly  eye,  prompted  him  to 
seek  another  field  for  his  active  energies, 
and  a  month  had  hardly  passed  when  he 
solicited  an  appointment  in  the  navy. 

Abandoning  this  design,  either  from  its 
impracticability  or  from  his  own  caprice, 
Arnold  resolved  to  take  the  command  of 
a  privateer.  This  scheme  was  in  its  turn 
also  given  up  while  preparations  were  ma 
king  for  its  accomplishment.  His  next 
project  was,  to  obtain  a  grant  of  land  in 
the  western  part  of  New  York,  for  the  es 
tablishment  of  a  settlementfor  the  officers 
and  soldiers  who  had  served  under  him, 
and  for  such  other  persons  as  might  be 
disposed  to  join  them.  This  plan,  too, 
was  nursed  for  awhile,  and  finally  aban 
doned  by  its  capricious  parent.  Among 


the  various  other  projects  with  which  his 
restless  mind  teemed,  he  at  one  time  en 
tertained  the  idea  of  forming  a  vast  con 
federacy  of  the  Indian  tribes,  of  which  he 
might  then  become  its  great  and  power 
ful  chief. 

General  Arnold's  conduct,  in  his  capaci 
ty  as  military  commandant  of  Philadel 
phia,  at  length  became  so  suspicious,  and 
doubts  of  his  integrity  were  so  freely  ex 
pressed,  that  the  council  of  Pennsylvania 
was  forced  to  take  cognizance  of  them. 
An  investigation  ensued,  which  resulted 
in  the  presentation  of  certain  charges, 
some  of  which  imputed  criminality,  and 
all  implied  abuse  of  power.  These  were 
submitted  to  Congress,  and  referred  to  a 
committee  of  inquiry,  which  reported  fa 
vorably  to  Arnold.  The  authorities  of 
Pennsylvania,  however, still  clung  to  their 
charges,  and  insisted  that  Arnold  should 
be  tried  by  the  military  tribunal  to  which, 
as  an  army-officer, he  was  amenable.  Con 
gress  assented,  and  it  was  resolved  that 
the  charges  should  be  referred  to  a  court- 
rnartial  for  its  decision.  The  accused  gen 
eral  complained  that  he  was  unfairly  treat 
ed,  and  sacrificed  by  Congress  to  a  desire 
on  its  part  to  conciliate  the  state  of  Penn- 


758 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[I'AUT    II. 


sylvania.  In  the  meanwhile,  kept  in  sus 
pense  by  repeated  postponements  of  his 
trial,  he  fretted  angrily  under  the  impend 
ing  accusations.  Under  pretence  of  the 
wants  of  the  army,  he  had  forbidden  the 
shopkeepers  of  Philadelphia  "  to  sell  or 
buy;  he  then  put  their  goods  at  the  dis 
posal  of  his  agents,  and  caused  them  af 
terward  to  be  resold  at  a  profit.  At  one 
moment,  he  prostituted  his  authority  to 
enrich  his  accomplices;  at  the  next,  he 
squabbled  with  them  about  the  division 
of  the  prey."* 

Arnold  now  resigned  his  command,  but 
remained  in  Philadelphia,  where  since  his 
first  arrival  he  had  lived  in  a  style  of 
unexampled  splendor  and  expense.  He 
took  possession  of  the  "  Perm  house,"  one 
of  the  most  imposing  in  the  city,  gave 
magnificent  banquets,  and  drove  a  coach- 
and-four,with  liveried  coachman  and  lack 
eys.  When  Monsieur  Gerard,  the  French 
embassador,  first  arrived  in  Philadelphia, 
Arnold  gave  him  a  grand  dinner,  a,nd  en 
tertained  him  and  all  his  suite  in  his  house 
for  several  days. 

His  marriage  with  Miss  Margaret  Ship- 
pen,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Edward  Ship- 
pen  (afterward  chief-justice  of  Pennsyl 
vania,  though  at  that  time  supposed  to 
be  favorably  inclined  toward  the  tories), 
added  still  more  to  Arnold's  love  of  ex 
pensive  display  and  ostentation.  lie  was 
forty  years  of  age,  and  a  widower.  Miss 
Shippen  was  a  beauty  of  eighteen,  and 
fond  of  gayety  and  public  admiration. 
She  had  been  a  reigning  toast  of  the  town 
while  the  British  occupied  Philadelphia, 
and  was  one  of  the  fair  ladies  whose  su- 

*  American  Register,  vol.  ii.,  p.  23,  1817. 


premacy  in  "  wit,  beauty,  and  every  ac 
complishment,"  the  knights  of  the  "Blend 
ed  Rose"  in  the  famous  Mischianza  assert 
ed  by  "  deeds  of  arms"  against  all  rivals.* 
Her  attractions  had  made  such  an  im 
pression  upon  the  British  officers,  that, 
after  leaving  Philadelphia,  no  name  was 
more  frequently  heard  in  the  toast  and 
sentiment  which,  as  was  the  custom  in 
those  days,  flavored  the  after-dinner  Ma 
deira,  than  that  of  the  beautiful  Margaret 
Shippen.  With  Andre,  the  captivating 
aid-de-camp  of  the  English  commander-in- 
chief,  her  remembrance  was  kept  fresh  by 
a  sentimental  correspondence,  which  was 
continued  even  after  her  marriage.-j- 

The  associations  of  his  wife's  family 
were  with  the  more  pretentious  and  tory 
people  of  Philadelphia,  and  Arnold  was 
thus  brought  in  constant  contact  with 
those  whose  habits  were  neither  calcu 
lated  to  lessen  his  prodigality,  nor  their 
principles  to  increase  his  patriotism. 

*  See  page  91,  of  this  volume. 

t  "  It  was  from  one  of  the  disaffected  or  tory  families  thai 
Arnold  selected  his  wife.  He  loved  her  with  passionate 
fondness,  and  she  deserved  his  attachment,  by  her  virtues 
and  solidity  of  understanding.  In  addition  to  these  advan 
tages,  she  possessed  an  extraordinary  share  of  beauty,  dis 
tinguishable  even  in  a  country  where  Nature  has  been  prodi 
gal  of  her  favors  to  the  sex.  A  considerable  time  before 
this  marriage,  when  Philadelphia  was  still  in  the  hands  of 
the  enemy,  the  relatives  of  the  lady  had  given  an  eager  wel 
come  lo  the  British  commanders.  His  marriage,  therefore, 
caused  some  surprise  ;  but  he  was  pledged  to  the  republic 
by  so  many  services  rendered  and  benefits  received,  that  the 
alliance  gave  umbrage  to  no  one." — American  Register,  1817. 

"It  is  generally  believed,"  adds  Mr.  Lossing,  "  that  Ar 
nold's  wife  was  instrumental  in  weakening  his  attachment  to 
the  American  cause."  WThen  he  received  from  Washington 
the  command  at  West  Point,  "  the  news  of  this  unexpected 
success  reached  Mrs  Arnold  in  the  midst  of  a  large  assem 
bly  at  an  evening  party  in  Philadelphia,  and  so  affected  her 
that  she  partly  swooned  ;  yet  no  one  suspected  the  real  cause 
of  her  emotion,  and,  when  she  recovered,  they  all  eongratu 
latcd  her  upon  the  resolution  and  good  success  of  her  bus 
band  !" 


RKVOLUTIONARY.J 


TRIAL  AND  REPRIMAND  OF  ARNOLD. 


759 


Arnold,  living  in  a  style  of  profuse 
splendor,  which  he  had  not  the  means  to 
support,  was  soon  driven  to  the  usual  re 
sources  of  the  needy  prodigal.  He  in 
curred  debts  as  long  as  his  credit  enabled 
him;  but  when  this  means  failed,  he  re 
sorted  to  other  expedients.  He  specula 
ted  in  privateer-risks  and  various  trading- 
projects.  When  Count  d'Estaing  with  his 
fleet  approached  New  York,  and  it  was 
supposed  that  the  British  would  be  forced 
to  evacuate  the  city,  Arnold  formed  a 
partnership  with  two  other  persons,  to 
purchase  (on  the  expected  decline  of  the 
market)  goods  to  the  amount  of  thirty 
thousand  pounds  sterling  within  the  lines 
of  the  enemy.  These  projects  of  antici 
pated  profit  failing,  Arnold,  whose  pride 
would  not  permit  him  to  diminish  his  ex 
penditures,  was  prepared  to  resort  to  any 
means  to  supply  his  reckless  prodigality. 
In  the  meantime,  the  court-martial,  ap 
pointed  more  than  a  year  previous,  con 
vened  at  Morristown,  whither  Arnold  re 
paired.  Having  investigated  the  charges 
against  him,  that  tribunal,  on  the 
20th  of  January,  pronounced  him 
guilty  of  two  of  them,*  though  with  miti 
gating  circumstances,  and  sentenced  him 
to  be  reprimanded  by  Washington.  Nev 
er  was  the  sword  of  justice  more  delicate 
ly  tempered, and  a  smoother  wound  given 

*  The  two  charges  which  were  sustained  in  part,  but  not 
so  far  us  to  imply  criminality,  were  these  :  1.  That  Arnold, 
when  at  Valley  Forge,  before  the  evacuation  of  Philadel 
phia  by  the  British,  had  given  a  written  protection  to  the 
commander  of  a  vessel  to  proceed  to  sea  and  enter  any  port 
within  the  United  States.  The  mitigating  circumstance  was, 
that  the  vessel  was  the  property  of  persons  who  had  taken 
the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  state  of  Pennsylvania.  2.  That 
Arnold  had  used  the  public  wagons  of  Pennsylvania  for  pri 
vate  purposes.  The  mitigating  circumstance  in  this  instance 
was,  that  their  use  was  paid  for  at  private  expense. 


1779, 


to  an  irritable  conscience, than  when  wield 
ed  by  the  hand  of  the  commarider-in-chief 
on  this  occasion.  When  Arnold  appeal  ed 
before  him,  Washington  addressed  him 
gravely  but  kindly,  saying  :  "  Our  profes 
sion  is  the  chastest  of  all.  Even  the  shad 
ow  of  a  fault  tarnishes  the  lustre  of  our 
finest  achievements.  The  least  inadver 
tence  may  rob  us  of  the  public  favor,  so 
hard  to  be  acquired.  I  reprimand  you 
for  having  forgotten  that,  in  proportion 
as  you  had  rendered  yourself  formidable 
to  your  eneuiies,  you  should  have  been 
guarded  and  temperate  in  your  deport 
ment  toward  your  fellow-citizens.  Ex 
hibit  anew  those  noble  qualities  which 
have  placed  you  on  the  list  of  our  most 
distinguished  commanders.  I  will  furnish 
you,  as  far  as  it  may  be  in  my  power,  with 
opportunities  of  regaining  the  esteem  of 
your  conn  try." 

Arnold's  conscience,  however,  like  an 
ulcerated  sore  when  exposed  to  the  pure 
air  of  heaven,  was  only  the  more  inflamed 
by  these  gentle  words  of  the  pure  and  up 
right  Washington.  He  was  maddened  to 
rage,  and  spared  no  one,  from  command- 
er-in-chief  to  subaltern,  all  of  whom  he 
charged  with  envy  of  his  own  brilliant 
military  fame.  He  had  already,  under  an 
assumed  name,  opened  a  correspondence 
with  the  enemy,  but  hesitated  to  take  the 
last  and  basest  step  of  overt  treason  un 
til  he  had  exhausted  every  other  resource 
for  the  supply  of  his  greedy  prodigality. 
Nearly  four  years  before  Arnold's  defec 
tion,  Colonel  Brown,  denouncing  him  in 
a  handbill,  used  these  memorable  words: 
"  Money  is  this  man's  God,  and  to  yet  cnouyli 
of  ii  he  would  sacrifice  his  couniry  /" 


760 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


II. 


Shortly  after  his  trial,  Arnold  renewed 
a  petition  to  Congress  for  a  settlement  of 
his  accounts,  in  which  he  made  claims  for 
an  exorbitant  balance  in  his  favor.  He 
was  pertinacious,  but  his  demands  were 
evidently  so  unjust,  that  neither  his  ene 
mies,  disgusted  with  his  effrontery,  nor 
his  friends,  wearied  with  his  importunity, 
were  disposed  to  listen  further  to  his  ap 
peals. 

Yet  Arnold  was  sinned  against.  Many 
officers  were  envious  of  his  deserved  rep 
utation  as  a  soldier.  He  had  been  made 
to  feel  the  shafts  of  their  envy  in  many 
ways.  The  very  men  who  had  conspired 
against  Washington,  in  1777  and  1778, 
were  most  prominent  in  opposition  to  Ar 
nold  ;  and  the  same  faction  in  Congress 
withheld  deserved  honors  from  him.  With 
contracted  vision  he  saw,  in  the  conduct 
of  these  individuals,  the  ingratitude  of  his 
country;  and  the  resentment  which  he 
felt  toward  them  he  extended  to  the 
cause,  and  all  engaged  in  it.  This  feel 
ing,  and  the  hope  of  large  pecuniary  re 
ward,  by  which  he  might  relieve  himself 
of  heavy  and  increasing  embarrassments, 
seemed  to  have  extinguished  every  spark 
of  patriotism,  and  beckoned  him  to  the 
bad  pre-eminence  of  a  mercenary  traitor.* 

Arnold, in  his  desperation,now  resorted 
to  the  expedient  of  appealing  for  a  loan 
of  money  to  the  French  envoy,  Monsieur 
de  la  Luzerne  (the  successor  of  M.  Ge 
rard),  with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  so 
cial  intimacy  in  Philadelphia.  The  gener 
al  spoke  of  his  disinterested  services,  his 
sacrifices,  his  wounds;  he  complained  of 
the  ingratitude  of  his  country,  the  injus- 

*  Lossin<r. 


tice  of  Congress,  and  the  persecuting  mal 
ice  of  his  enemies.  He  declared  that  his 
fortune  had  been  ruined  by  the  war,  and 
that,  unless  he  could  borrow  sufficient 
money  to  pay  his  debts,  he  would  be  com 
pelled  to  go  into  retirement,  and  quit  a 
profession  which  rewarded  him  only  with 
poverty.  He  finally  intimated  to  M.  de 
Luzerne  that  it  would  be  for  the  interest 
of  his  king  to  secure  the  attachment  of 
an  American  officer  so  high  in  rank,  and 
that  it  might  be  done  for  the  amount  of 
the  loan  asked  !* 

The  French  minister,  a  man  of  great 
honor  and  just  sentiments,  although  an 
admirer  of  Arnold's  talents,  could  not  ap 
prove  of  such  a  method  of  raising  money, 
and  in  his  reply  administered  a  mild  but 
firm  rebuke.  "  You  desire  of  me  a  ser 
vice,"  he  said,  "which  it  would  be  easy 
for  me  to  render,  but  which  would  de 
grade  us  both.  When  the  envoy  of  a  for 
eign  power  gives,  or,  if  you  will,  lends 
money,  it  is  ordinarily  to  corrupt  those 
who  receive  it,  and  to  make  them  the  crea 
tures  of  the  sovereign  whom  he  serves ; 
or  rather  he  corrupts  without  persuading; 
he  buys,  and  does  not  secure.  But  the 
firm  league  entered  into  between  the  king 
and  the  United  States  is  the  work  of  jus 
tice  and  of  the  wisest  policy.  It  has  for 
its  bases  a  reciprocal  interest  and  good 
will.  In  the  mission  with  which  I  am 
charged,  my  true  glory  consist  in  fulfil 
ling  it  without  intrigue  or  cabal,  without 
resorting  to  any  secret  practices,  and  by 
the  force  alone  of  the  conditions  of  the 
alliance." 

To  this  somewhat  formal  manifesto  of 

*  Sparks. 


REV  OLUTIONARY.] 


MAJOR  JOHN  ANDRE. 


761 


political  principle,  Monsieur  de  Luzerne 
freely  added  some  moral  advice.  Arnold, 
however,  "wanted  money,  not  advice;" 
and,  not  getting  it,  from  either  America 
or  France,  he  was  determined  upon  ob 
taining  it  from  Great  Britain.  He  now 
made  the  last  desperate  move,  and,  hav 
ing  lost  himself,  staked  his  country  upon 
the  issue.  He  renewed  his  correspond 
ence  with  the  enemy,  which  had  been 
opened  with  intentional  vagueness,  that 
he  might  continue  or  terminate  it,  as  cir 
cumstances  should  prompt. 

The  command  of  West  Point,  which 
Arnold  secured,  as  we  have  seen,  gave 
him  the  means  he  sought  for  consumma 
ting  his  treason.  His  departure  from 
Philadelphia  was  not  regretted,  as  his  ar 
bitrary  temper,  his  pretentious  bearing, 
and  his  corrupt  conduct,  had  made  him 
so  much  detested  and  so  unpopular,  that 
he  hardly  dared  to  show  himself  in  the 
streets.  On  one  occasion  he  was  assault 
ed  by  the  populace ;  and,  having  com 
plained  to  Congress,  he  demanded  a  guard 
of  continental  troops  for  his  protection, 
saying,  "  This  request,  I  presume,  will  not 
be  denied  to  a  man  who  has  so  often 
fought  and  bled  in  the  defence  of  -his 
country."  Congress,  however,  did  not  or 
der  the  guard,  but  referred  him  for  pro 
tection  to  the  governor  of  Pennsylvania. 

Arnold  found,  in  the  correspondence 
of  his  wrife  with  Major  Andre,  a  conveni 
ent  means  of  opening  a  communication 
with  the  enemy.  His  advances  to  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  were  accordingly  made 
through  this  channel.  He  wrote  his  let 
ters  in  a  disguised  hand,  and  under  the 
assumed  name  of  "  Gustavux ;"  while  his 
96 


correspondent,  Major  Andre,  took  that  of 
"Jo/in  Anderson."  To  avoid  detection,  the 
true  meaning  of  the  letters  was  disguised 
under  the  cover  of  a  commercial  corre 
spondence,  in  which  mercantile  phrases 
apparently  expressed  trading -purposes. 
Arnold  warily  avoided  committing  his 
own  name  to  paper;  but  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton,  from  the  beginning,  discovered  that 
his  correspondent  was  an  American  officer 
of  influence,  and  was  soon  convinced  that 
"Gustavus"  was  no  less  a  personage  than 
Major-General  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Adjutant-General  Major  JOHN  ANDRE, 
the  British  agent  who  bore  so  important 
a  part  in  this  dark  transaction,  was  born 
in  London,  in  1751,  whither  his  parents, 
who  were  Swiss,  had  removed  from  Gene 
va.  Originally  intended  for  a  merchant, 
he  was  placed  in  early  youth  in  a  London 
countinghouse,and  before  he  had  reached 
his  eighteenth  year  fell  in  love  with  Miss 
Honora  Sneyd.  She  returned  his  affec 
tion  ;  but  her  cautious  father,  seeing  but 
little  prospect  of  young  Andre's  advance 
ment  in  his  career,  refused  his  consent  to 
their  marriage.  The  lover  now  sought 
a  relief  for  his  disappointment  in  the  ex 
citement  of  a  military  life;  while  his  "dear 
Honora"  consoled  herself  by  becoming  the 
second  wife  of  "  that  man  of  many  wives/' 
Richard  Lovell  Edgeworth,*  a  young  wid- 

*  RICHARD  LOVKLL  EDGEWOUTH,  of  Edgeworthtown, 
Ireland,  was  born  at  Bath,  in  England,  in  1744.  Possessing 
a  large  fortune,  he  devoted  much  of  his  time  to  agricultural 
improvements,  as  well  as  to  the  amelioration  of  the  exist 
ing  modes  of  education,  by  writing,  in  conjunction  with  his 
highly-gifted  daughter,  many  useful  works.  He  also  wrote 
his  own  "  Memoirs  ;"  and,  among  his  various  mechanical  in 
ventions,  was  a  telegraph.  Mr.  Edgeworth  was  innrrii-d 
three  times.  His  first  wife  was  the  mother  of  Miss  Maria 
Edgeworth  ;  his  second  spouse  was  Miss  Sneyd,  Andre's 
"dear  Honora;"  and  his  third  was  Elizabeth  Sneyd,  whom 


762 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


ower  of  only  twenty-six,  and  the  father  of 
the  celebrated  Miss  Edge  worth.*  Andre 
continued  to  cherish  a  sentimental  affec 
tion  for  his  lost  beauty ;  and  his  corre 
spondence  with  Anna  Seward/j"  of  L itch- 
field,  and  of  Johnsonian  celebrity,  who 
was  a  bosom  friend  of  Miss  Sneyd,  was 
filled  with  tender  allusions  to  "  Honor;)," 

he  married  "just  seven  months  and  twenty-five  days  after 
the  death  of  Honora."  He  died  in  1817,  at  the  age  of  sev 
enty-two  years. 

*  MARIA  EDGEWORTH,  the  celebrated  Irish  novelist, 
whose  works  have  had  great  influence  in  promoting  the 
cause  of  education  and  of  social  morality,  was  born  in  Ox 
fordshire,  England,  in  1766  She  commenced  her  career  as 
an  authoress  about  1800,  and  in  her  early  literary  efforts  she 
was  greatly  assisted  by  the  advice  of  her  father.  The  fa 
mous  "Essay  on  Irish  Bulls,"  the  joint  production  of  her 
self  and  her  father,  was  published  in  1801.  Her  "Castle 
llackrent"  abounds  in  admirable  sketches  of  Irish  life  and 
manners.  Her  "  Belinda,"  a  novel  of  real  life  and  ordinary 
characters,  is  also  descriptive  of  some  of  the  striking  traits 
of  the  Irish  character.  In  1804,  she  published  Iter  "Popu 
lar  Tales  ;"  and  two  years  afterward,  "  Leonora,"  a  novel  in 
two  volumes.  In  1809,  she  issued  "Tales  of  Fashionable 
Life,"  of  a  more  powerful  and  varied  cast  than  any  of  her 
previous  productions.  Three  other  volumes  of  "  Fashion 
able  Tales"  appeared  in  1812,  and  fully  sustained  the  high 
reputation  which  she  had  now  attained.  In  1814,  her  nova] 
of  " Patronage"  was  published.  For  many  years,  indeed, 
literary  composition  formed  the  chief  business  of  her  life. 
Originality  and  fertility  of  invention,  and  a  power  of  depict 
ing  Irish  manners  unequalled  among  modern  authors,  are 
her  chief  characteristics  as  a  novelist.  She  died  in  1849,  in 
the  eighty-fourth  year  of  her  age. 

t  ANNA  SEWAKD,  daughter  of  the  Ilev.  Thomas  Seward, 
himself  a  poet,  and  the  author  of  an  edition  of  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  was  born  at  Eyam,  in  Derbyshire,  England, 
in  1747.  She  evinced  a  poetical  taste  in  early  life.  In  1782, 
she  published  her  poetical  romance  of  "  Louisa ;"  and  she 
subsequently  printed  a  collection  of  sonnets,  and  a  "Life 
of  Dr.  Darwin,"  in  which  she  asserted  her  claim  to  the  first 
fifty  lines  of  that  author's  "Botanic  Garden."  She  died 
in  1809. 


as  were  his  occasional  verses,  in  which  a 
ready  faculty  at  turning  a  rhyme  led  him 
to  indulge. 

Receiving  a  commission  of  lieutenant 
in  the  British  army,  his  first  service  was 
in  Canada,  where  he  was  taken  prisoner, 
on  the  fall  of  St.  Johns,  in  1775,  and 
"stripped  of  everything,"  as  he  wrote  to 
a  friend,  "  except  the  picture  of  Honora, 
which  I  concealed  in  my  mouth." 

Being  exchanged  in  the  course  of  the 
war,  Andre  rejoined  the  army,  and  by 
merit  alone  (for  he  had  no  powerful  pa 
tronage  at  home  to  advance  his  interests) 
he  rapidly  rose  in  rank,  became  a  captain, 
and  was  appointed  by  Major-General  Sir 
Charles  Grey  (father  of  Lord  Grey,  the 
distinguished  statesman)  his  aid-de-camp. 
Andre  was  a  man  of  versatile  talent;  he 
was  by  turns  soldier,  poet,  musician,  and 
painter,  and  his  qualifications  were  set  off 
with  the  advantage  of  a  handsome  person 
and  amiable  manners.  After  General  Grey 
returned  to  Europe,  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
received  Andre  as  his  aid-de-camp,  and 
was  so  impressed  with  his  abilities,  that, 
upon  the  resignation  of  Lord  Rawdon,  he 
appointed  him  adjutant-general.  After 
some  reluctance  on  the  part  of  the  British 
prime  minister,  who  objected  to  Andre's 
youth,  he  was  finally  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  major,  and  confirmed  in  his  office 
as  adjutant,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty- 
nine. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARNOLD  AND  SIR  HENRY  CLINTON. 


763 


CHAPTER    LXXXVII. 

Treasonable  Correspondence  renewed. — General  Arnold  at  West  Point. — Major  Andre  chosen. — Failure. A  Bare  Es 
cape.— Washington  out  of  the  Way. — An  Artful  Ruse. — Washington  en  Route  to  Hartford. — A  Startling  Remark.— 
Communication  with  the  British  Sloop  Vulture. — "John  Anderson." — A  Change  of  Mind. — A  Flag  of  Truce  fired 

upon. — A  Remonstrance  and  a  Ruse. — Joshua  Hett  Smith. — The  White  House. — A  Postponement. Difficulties. 

Reluctant  Boatmen. — Boarding  the  Vulture. — Interview  between  Arnold  and  Andre. — Impatience. — Unfinished  Busi 
ness. — A  Startling  Reflection. 


1780, 


SIR  HENRY  CLINTON,  although  he 
studiously  kept  up  his  communica 
tions,  through  Major  Andre,  with  his  un 
declared  correspondent,  whom  he  had  no 
doubt  was  General  Arnold,  was  not  impa 
tient  to  complete  his  bargain  until  the 
traitor  had  something  more  valuable  to 
offer  than  himself.  It  was  not,  therefore, 
until  Arnold  was  in  command  of  West 
Point,  that  Clinton  cared  to  bring  to  a 
final  issue  the  base  negotiation  which  had 
now  been  going  on  for  nearly  eighteen 
months. 

West  Point,  with  its  important  position, 
its  armament,  garrison,  and  stores,  was  an 
object  worth  purchasing ;  and  the  British 
commander  was  at  last  prepared  to  make 
his  bargain  with  the  military  Judas,  who 
was  eager  to  clutch  the  "  pieces  of  silver." 
Arnold,  in  his  letters,  had  expressed  an 
earnest  desire  to  have  apersonal  interview 
with  some  one  "  of  his  own  mensuration," 
as  he  said,  evidently  with  the  purpose  of 
securing  the  payment  of  his  price.  Sir 
Henry  had  thought  of  some  one  else  ;  but 
General  Arnold  having  insisted  on  Major 
Andre  being  sent,  that  young  officer  con 
sented  to  go.  The  great  difficulty  now 
was,  to  effect  an  interview  without  exci 


ting  suspicion.  Arnold's  fertility  of  craft 
was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

The  first  attempt,  nevertheless,  failed. 
Andre,  accompanied  by  Colonel  Beverly 
Robinson,  now  as  a  confederate,  had  come 
to  Dobbs's  ferry,  in  order  to  meet  Arnold, 
as  he  had  appointed  ;  but  the  traitor  him 
self,  after  coining  down  the  river  in  his 
barge,  and  passing  the  night  at  Smith's 
house,  near  King's  ferry,  was,  upon  at 
tempting  next  morning  to  reach  the  ren 
dezvous  (being  unprovided  with  a  flag), 
fired  upon  by  the  British  gun-boats.  His 
barge  was  so  closely  pursued,  that  Arnold 
barely  escaped  losing  his  life  or  being  cap 
tured  ;  and,  after  another  unsuccessful  ef 
fort  to  obtain  an  interview,  he  returned 
to  the  Robinson  house,  and  Andre  and 
his  companion  to  New  York.  To  explain 
his  passage  down  the  Hudson,  which  be 
came  generally  known,  Arnold  took  care 
to  write  to  Washington,  stating  that  his 
object  had  been  to  establish  signals  and 
give  directions  about  the  guard-boats. 

As  Washington  was  about  proceeding 
to  Hartford,  to  hold  a  conference  with 
Count  de  Rochambeau  and  the  French 
officers  in  regard  to  a  proposed  campaign, 
and  would  cross  King's  ferry  on  his  route, 


764 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART    II. 


Arnold  was  careful  to  put  off  any  inter 
view  until  the  commander-in-chief  was 
out  of  the  way.  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  how 
ever,  disappointed  at  the  failure  of  the  sev 
eral  previous  attempts,  sent  the  sloop-of- 
war  Vulture,  with  Colonel  Robinson  on 
board,  to  anchor  up  the  river  near  Tel 
ler's  Point,  and  thus  be  at  hand  to  facili 
tate  a  meeting.  Robinson  immediately 
wrote  a  letter,  artfully  addressed  to  Gen 
eral  Putnam,  as  if  thinking  that  he  was 
in  command  at  the  Highlands,  and  asked 
for  a  personal  conference  on  private  busi 
ness.  This  letter  was  enclosed  in  anoth 
er  addressed  to  Arnold,  in  which  the  same 
favor  was  solicited  from  him  in  case  Put 
nam  should  be  absent.  This  artful  ruse  of 
the  two  addresses,  and  the  careful  word 
ing  of  the  letters,  removed  any  chance  of 
suspicion  in  case  they  should  fall  into  the 
hands  of  others  than  Arnold. 

These  letters  were  delivered 
on  the  very  day  that  Washington 
had  set  out  on  his  journey  to  Hartford, 
and  Arnold  had  read  and  held  them  in 
his  pocket  at  the  time  he  was  convey 
ing  the  commander-in-chief  in  his  bar<>-e 

0  O 

across  the  river  to  Verplanck's  Point. 
The  Vulture  was  lying  in  full  view ;  and 
while  Washington  was  looking  at  the  ves 
sel,  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone  of  voice, 
Arnold  was  observed  to  manifest  some 
uneasiness,  although  its  cause  was  not  sus 
pected.  As  Count  de  Guichen's  squadron 
was  expected  daily  from  the  West  Indies, 
it  naturally  became  the  topic  of  conversa 
tion.  Lafayette,  merely  alluding  to  the 
free  communication  between  New  York 
and  West  Point,  and  frequent  opportuni 
ties  of  intelligence,  startled  Arnold  with 


Sept,  18. 


the  remark,  "  General,  since  you  have  a 
correspondence  with  the  enemy, you  must 
ascertain  as  soon  as  possible  what  has  be 
come  of  Guichen."  The  traitor,  evident 
ly  for  a  moment  thrown  off  his  guard,  ab 
ruptly  demanded  what  he  meant, but  soon 
recovered  his  self-control  and  dropped  the 
subject.* 

While  Arnold  was  accompanying  the 
general-in-chief  to  Peekskill,  he  showed 
him  the  letters  written  by  Colonel  Rob 
inson  ;  and,  not  suspecting  their  real  pur 
pose,  Washington  recommended  Arnold 
not  to  hold  the  proposed  conference,  as 
Robinson's  object,  which  was  supposed  to 
have  reference  to  his  property,  was  one 
that  belonged  properly  to  the  civil  and 
not  to  the  military  jurisdiction. 

Little  did  the  commander-in-chief  sus 
pect  that  the  brave  officer  now  escorting 
him,  wrho  had  served  his  country  with  so 
much  zeal  and  gallantry,  and  who  at  that 
interview  handed  him  a  written  opinion 
concerning  the  propriety  of  an  attack  on 
New  York,  based  upon  statements  which 
he  had  received  from  his  chief,  of  the  con 
dition  and  prospects  of  the  American  ar 
my,  was  about  to  betray  that  army  and 
his  country,  and  to  make  use  of  that  very 
statement  as  one  of  the  instruments  of 
his  treason.  The  very  paper  containing 
this  statement,  which  Washington  had 
sent  to  Arnold  (as  to  others  of  his  general 
officers),  was  one  of  those  afterward  taken 
from  Andre's  boot >}- 

Arnold  now  had  an  opportunity,  of 
which  he  gladly  availed  himself,  of  an 
open  communication  with  the  Vulture. 
A  personal  conference  with  Colonel  Rob- 

*  Sparks.  f  Lossing. 


R  H  VOLUTION  AKY.] 


ANDRE  AND  THE  SLOOP  VULTURE. 


765 


inson,  however,  after  Washington's  de 
cided  objection,  was  no  longer  thought 
of;  but  there  was  no  difficulty  in  com 
municating  with  him  by  letter.  Arnold 
accordingly  sent  openly  to  the  Vulture, 
by  an  officer  in  a  flag-boat,  a  sealed  pack 
et  which  contained  three  letters,  in  the 
outer  one  of  which  he  stated,  in  general 
terms,  that  he  had  consulted  with  the 
commander-in-chief,  who  disapproved  of 
Robinson's  proposition.  The  second  ex 
plicitly  stated  that  on  the  night  of  the 
20th  of  September  he  would  send  a  per 
son  to  Dobbs's  ferry,  or  on  board  the  Vul 
ture  (which  was  requested  to  be  kept 
where  she  then  was),  who  would  be  fur 
nished  with  a  boat  and  a  flag  of  truce, 
and  whose  secrecy  and  honor  might  be 
depended  upon.  In  a  postscript  he  thus 
artfully  gave  the  appearance  of  public 
business  as  his  object,  and  information  of 
the  time  when  Washington  intended  to 
return :  "  I  expect  General  Washington 
to  lodge  here  on  Saturday  night  next, 
and  I  will  lay  before  him  any  matter  you 
may  wish  to  communicate."*  There  was 
also  enclosed  a  third  letter,  which  was  a 
copy  of  one  previously  sent  to  "John  An 
derson"  appointing  a  place  and  time  of 
meeting  Major  Andre  at  Dobbs's  ferry. 

On  the  morning  after  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  received  these  letters,  which  were  im 
mediately  despatched  to  him,  Andre  set 

oil  and  went  to  Dobbs's  ferry, 

Sept,  20,  '' 

receiving  as  his  last  instructions 

from  the  British  commander,  not  to  go 
into  the  American  line,  not  to  disguise 
himself,  and  not  on  any  account  to  receive  pa 
per?.  ] I  was  in  fact  supposed  that  Arnold 

*  Sparks. 


himself,  although  speaking  of  a  third  par 
ty,  intended  to  go  on  board  the  Vulture, 
and  there  settle  the  terms  of  his  bargain 
in  person. 

Andre,  arriving  at  a  late  hour  at  Dobbs's 
ferry,  where  it  was  originally  his  inten 
tion  to  have  requested  the  commander  to 
drop  down  with  his  vessel,  changed  his 
mind,  and  took  a  boat,  in  which  he  sailed 
up  the  river  and  boarded  the  Vulture  at 
seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Here  lie 
remained  all  night,  anxiously  expecting 
every  moment  the  arrival  of  Arnold  ;  but, 
as  the  latter  did  not  come,  he  beo;an  to 

7  O 

fear  that  the  whole  project  would  fail. 
Thinking  that  Arnold,  possibly  unaware 
of  his  having  got  on  board  the  Vulture, 
might  be  expecting  him  at  Dobbs's  ferry, 
Andre  took  an  occasion  which  accident 
ally  offered  of  giving  him  information  of 
his  whereabouts.  A  flag  of  truce  havin»- 

o  o 

been  shown  at  Teller's  Point,  apparently 
inviting  a  communication  with  the  ship 
for  some  purpose  or  other,  a  flag-boat  was 
sent  off;  but  as  it  approached  the  land,  it 
was  fired  upon.  The  captain  now  sent  a 
second  boat  with  a  flag,  to  remonstrate ; 
and  Andre  (in  order  that  Arnold  might 

\  O 

infer  that  he  was  on  board  the  Vulture) 
penned  the  letter  of  remonstrance,  though 
it  was  dictated  and  signed  by  Captain 
Sutherland. 

Colonel  Livingston,  in  command  of  the 
American  post  at  Verplanck's  Point,  re 
ceived  the  letter,  and  handed  it 
to  General  Arnold,  who  had  ar 
rived  there  just  as  the  Vulture's  boat  was 
returning.  The  latter  recognised  Andre's 
handwriting  at  once,  and,  making  the  in 
ference  intended  by  the  writer,  prepared 


Sept,  21 


766 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


to  send  to  the  Vulture  on  the  coming 
night. 

Arnold  had  succeeded  in  securing  the 
services  of  a  Mr.  Joshua  Hett  Smith,  a 
gentleman  of  reputable  standing,  and  one 
who,  by  various  patriotic  acts,  had  given 
proof  of  his  attachment  to  the  republican 
cause.  His  residence,  the  "  White  house," 
as  it  was  called,  was  situated  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Hudson,  in  Haverstraw  bay, 
about  two  miles  below  Stony  Point,  and 
was  conveniently  placed  for  Arnold's  pro 
posed  interview  with  Andre. 

Smith  had  consented  to  board  the  Vul 
ture  in  the  night,  and  bring  on  shore  the 
person  whom  he  would  find  there,  and 
moreover  to  allow  his  house  (for  which 
purpose  he  had  removed  his  family  to 
Fishkill)  to  be  used  as  the  place  of  ren 
dezvous.  Provided  by  Arnold  with  an  or 
der  upon  Major  Kierse,  the  quartermaster 
at  Stony  Point,  for  a  boat,  the  usual  pass 
for  a  flag  of  truce,  and  letters  for  the  Vul 
ture,  Smith  was  to  have  executed  his  com 
mission  on  the  night  of  the  20th  of  Sep 
tember.  Various  difficulties,  however, 
were  in  the  way.  The  boat  could  not  be 
readily  obtained  ;  and  a  tenant  of  Smith, 
one  Samuel  Colquhoun,  who  had  been 
urged  to  go  with  him,  refused  on  account 
of  his  dread  of  the  guard-boats.  The  affair 
was  accordingly  postponed. 

The  nextmorning,  Arnold  pro 
ceeded  down  the  Hudson  to  Ver- 
planck's  Point,  where,  as  we  have  seen, 
he  had  read  the  remonstrance  of  Captain 
Sutherland  of  the  Vulture.and  recognised 

O 

the  handwriting  of  Andre.  He  now  de 
termined  to  secure  the  accomplishment 
of  his  purpose  by  his  own  personal  efforts. 


Crossing  over  to  Stony  Point,  and  finding 
no  boat  there,  he  sent  an  officer  in  his 
barge  to  obtain  one  at  "  Continental  vil 
lage."  Leaving  orders  with  Major  Kierse 
to  have  it  brought  down  to  Haverstraw 
creek,  Arnold  in  the  meanwhile  proceed 
ed  to  Smith's  house. 

The  American  guard-boats  had  been 
ordered  not  to  interfere  with  Smith,  as  he 
was  employed  by  the  general  to  obtain 
important  intelligence,  and  the  watch 
word  "  Congress"  was  agreed  upon  to  se 
cure  the  recognition  of  his  boat.  The  only 
difficulty  now  was  to  obtain  the  services 
of  a  boatman.  Samuel  Colquhoun  still 
refused  to  go,  as  did  likewise  his  brother. 
Smith's  appeals  were  all  in  vain;  and  even 
Arnold  could  not  succeed  in  overcoming 
their  scruples  until  he  threatened,  if  they 
persisted  in  their  obstinacy,  and  refused 
to  give  their  assistance  when  required  for 
the  c/ood  of  the  count)'//,  to  arrest  them  as  dis 
affected  persons  !  They  now  no  longer  re 
sisted,  and  were  further  encouraged  in 
their  obedience  to  Arnold's  peremptory 
orders  by  the  promise  of  fifty  pounds  of 
flour  to  each.* 

"It  was  half-past  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
night,"  says  Sparks,  of  whose  careful  col 
lation  of  the  incidents  we  have  freely 
availed  ourselves,  "  when  Smith  and  his 
two  boatmen  arrived  at  the  landing,  near 
the  mouth  of  Haverstraw  creek,  to  which 
place  Major  Kierse  had  sent  the  boat. 
They  muffled  the  oars  by  General  Ar 
nold's  directions.  The  night  was  tran 
quil  and  serene,  the  stars  shone  brightly, 
the  water  was  unruffled  except  by  the 
gentle  current,  which  was  hardly  percep- 

*  It  was  never  jrivcu. 


it  K  VOLUTION  ARY.]       THE  MIDNIGHT  MEETING  OF  ARNOLD  AND  ANDRE. 


767 

Andre  was  so  completely  wrapped  in 
«i  blue  overcoat,  that  his  uniform  could 
not  be  seen ;  and  Smith  always  declared 
that  he  had  no  idea  at  that  time  that  he 
was  any  one  else  than  "  Mr.  John  Ander 
son,"  a  plain  citizen,  who  was  acting  in 
behalf  of  Robinson.  Smith  and  Andre 
now  descended  into  the  boat  alongside, 
where  the  boatmen  had  remained,  and 
were  rowed  in  silence  to  the  shore.  Here 
they  landed,  about  midnight,  at  the  base 
of  a  mountain  called  Long  Clove,  six  miles 
below  Stony  Point. 

Arnold  had  come  down  on  horseback 
from  Smith's  house,  accompanied  by  a 
servant,  and  stood  hidden  in  a  thicket 
near  the  landing,  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
the  boat.  As  soon  as  Smith  had  stepped 
ashore,  he  groped  his  way  up  the  bank 
in  search  of  Arnold,  and,  having  discov 
ered  him,  came  back  to  guide  Andre  to 
the  place,  where,  being  requested  to  do 
so,  he  left  them. 

The  boatmen,  wearied  and  unsuspicious, 
soon  fell  asleep  ;  but  Smith,  anxiously  in 
quisitive,  and  disappointed  that  he  was 
not  allowed  to  be  present  at  the  inter 
view,  passed  the  tedious  midnight  hour 
in  wakeful  impatience.  His  powers  of 
endurance  finally  gave  out;  so  he  made 
his  way  through  the  bushes  to  the  busy 
plotters,  and,  reminding  them  that  the 
night  was  nearly  past,  declared  that  the 
boat  could  not  be  kept  much  longer.  Ar 
nold,  finding  that  his  work  was  not  yet 
done,  told  Smith  that  he  need  remain  no 
longer.  The  latter  accordingly  aroused 
the  boatmen,  and  proceeded  up  the  river 
with  the  boat;  while  Arnold,  accompanied 
by  Andre  —  who  mounted  the  servant's 


tible  in  that  wide  part  of  the  river,  and 
the  boat  glided  along  silently,  without 
being  discovered  or  meeting  with  any 
hinderance,  till  they  were  hailed  by  a 
hoarse  seaman's  voice  from  the  Vulture, 
inquiring  who  they  were,  and  whither 
bound.  Smith  answered  that  they  were 
from  King's  ferry,  and  on  their  way  to 
Dobbs's  ferry. 

"The  boat  was  immediately  ordered 
alongside ;  and  a  torrent  of  uncourtly 
epithets,  peculiar  to  the  sailor's  vocabula 
ry,  was  poured  out  upon  them  for  presu 
ming  to  approach  one  of  his  majesty's 
ships  under  the  cover  of  darkness." 

Smith  in  the  meantime  clambered  up 
the  sloop's  side,  and  a  boy  came  up  from 
below,  where  the  noise  had  been  heard, 
with  orders  that  he  should  be  shown  into 
the  cabin.  Smith,  upon  entering,  imme 
diately  recognised  Colonel  Beverly  Rob 
inson,  whom  he  had  known  before,  and 
gave  him  Arnold's  letter. 

Smith  was  under  the  impression  that 
Robinson  was  the  person  whom  he  was 
to  bring  ashore ;  and  accordingly,  when 
Major  Andre,  under  the  name  of  Mr.  John 
AndcrsoiijWds  presented, Colonel  Robinson 
gave  as  his  reason  for  not  going  himself 
that  he  was  in  ill  health,  but  stated  that 
his  friend  would  answer  the  same  purpose. 
Andre,  it  would  seem,  had  insisted  upon 
going,  in  accordance  with  the  request  of 
Arnold,  although  Robinson  strenuously 

7  .          o  •/ 

objected  to  his  trusting  himself  to  a  man 
who  was  so  unprincipled  as  to  betray  his 
country.  So_  eager,  however,  was  Andre 
to  accomplish  his  purpose,  that  he  seemed 
to  be  entirely  unconscious  of  all  danger 
attending  its  accomplishment. 


7(38 


BATTLES  OP^  AMERICA. 


fPART    II. 


},orse  —  rode  to  Smith's  house,  three  or 
four  miles  distant.  It  was  not  until,  in 
the  course  of  their  ride  through  Haver- 
straw  village,  on  being  challenged  in  the 
dark  by  a  sentinel,  that  Andre  was  con 


scious  of  his  being  within  the  American 
lines.  For  a  moment,  the  peril  of  his  po 
sition  startled  him;  but.  nerving  himself, 
he  rode  on  by  the  side  of  his  desperate 
associate. 


CHAPTER    LXXXVIII. 

A  Sudden  Cannonade. — Alarm  of  the  Conspirators. — Anxious  Watching. — Small  Gun. — Momentous  Effect. — Negotia 
tions  continued  between  Arnold  and  Andre. — Settlement  of  the  Price  of  Treason. — Completion  of  the  Bargain. — All 
ready. — Departure  of  Andre. — No  Boat. — Journey  by  Land. — His  Adventures. — The  Challenge. — An  Inquisitive 
Captain. — Fear  of  the  Cow-Boys. — Two  in  a  Bed. — Return  of  Cheerfulness. — A  Good  Housewife. — Change  of  Route. 
— A  Sudden  Surprise. — Fallen  among  Enemies. — The  Search. — "  My  God,  a  Spy!" — The  Captors. — "Not  Ten  Thou 
sand  Guineas!" — Despair  of  Andr6. — Blunder  of  Jameson. — Arnold  on  his  Guard. 


1780, 


IT  was  just  at  daybreak  when 
Arnold  and  Andre  pulled  up  their 
horses  at  Smith's  house ;  and  they  had 
hardly  dismounted,  when  a  severe  can 
nonade  broke  upon  the  stillness  of  the 
early  morning.  Engaged  in  a  dark  and 
dangerous  business,  the  two  conspirators 
were  intensely  alive  to  the  least  alarm ; 
and,  on  discovering  that  the  firing  was 
against  the  sloop-of-war  Vulture,  their 
anxieties  became  fearfully  excited.  An 
dre,  from  the  window  of  the  house,  which 
commanded  a  view  of  the  river,  watched 
each  new  development  of  the  scene  with 
breathless  interest.  He  continued  to  look 
on  in  silence,  and  with  an  evident  expres 
sion  of  anxiety,  which  did  not  leave  him 
until  he  saw  that  the  ship,  by  moving  far 
ther  down  the  river, was  beyond  the  reach 
of  cannon-shot. 

Colonel  Livingston,  the  commander  at 
Verplanck's  Point,  had  discovered  on  the 
previous  day  that  the  Vulture  was  so  close 


to  Teller's  Point  that  she  might  be  reached 
by  cannon-shot  from  the  shore,  and  had 
accordingly  sent  down  a  four-pounder  to 
the  river-bank  for  that  purpose.  He  had 
asked  General  Arnold  for  heavier  guns, 
but  was  put  off  by  some  frivolous  excuse, 
and  was  obliged  to  do  his  best  with  what 
he  had.  Colonel  Lamb  had  sent  Livings 
ton  some  ammunition  for  the  occasion, 
but  could  not  forbear  saying,  as  he  grudg 
ingly  supplied  it,  "  Firing  at  a  ship  with 
a  four-pounder  is,  in  my  opinion,  a  waste 
of  powder."  Livingston's  small  gun,  how 
ever,  had  a  momentous  effect;  and  the 
Vulture,  as  we  have  seen,  was  forced  to 
weigh  her  anchor  and  move  down  the 
river. 

The  firing  having  ceased,  Andre  recov 
ered  his  usual  gay  spirits  ;  and,  after  par 
taking  of  breakfast,  he  and  Arnold  were 
again  left  alone  by  Smith,  in  order  to  com 
plete  their  project  of  treason.  It  is  sup 
posed  that  Arnold  first  insisted  upon  set- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  PLOT  COMPLETED.— ANDRE  ON  HIS  RETURN. 


769 


tling  the  price;  when  it  was  agreed  that 
he  should  receive  ten  thousand  pounds  in 
money,  and  the  rank  of  brigadier-general 
in  the  British  army.  Andre  was  now  sup 
plied  with  accurate  plans  of  West  Point, 
and  exact  reports  of  its  strength  in  guns 
and  men.  Through  the  sound  judgment 
and  forethought  of  Washington,  and  the 
skill  of  French  engineers,  this  post  had 
been  very  strongly  fortified,  and  present 
ed  a  most  formidable  barrier  to  British 
incursions  northward  from  New  York.  A 
strong  garrison  was  placed  in  each  of  the 
forts,  under  the  command  of  General  Rob 
ert  Howe.  Immense  stores  and  muni 
tions  of  war  had  also  been  collected  there. 
In  the  vaults  of  one  of  the  forts,  besides 
the  ammunition  for  its  own  defence,  the 
stock  of  powder  for  the  whole  army  was 
lodged. 

After  the  trial  and  conviction  of  Ar 
nold  for  his  misdeeds  at  Philadelphia,  his 
pride  would  not  allow  him  to  enter  the 
British  army  as  a  deserter,  and  he  there 
fore  resolved  to  rejoin  that  of  Washing 
ton  ;  pretend  a  forgetfulness  of  what  he 
deemed  the  injustice  of  Congress ;  obtain, 
if  possible,  the  command  of  the  most  im 
portant  post  held  by  the  Americans,  and 
then  betray  it,  with  its  arms,  and,  garri 
sons,  and  stores,  into  the  hands  of  the  en 
emy.  In  this  manner,  he  would  gratify 
his  thirst  for  revenge,  and  obtain  a  large 
personal  reward  for  his  treason.  His  suc 
cess  in  securing  the  desired  appointment 
we  have  already  related ;  and  now,  in  the 
absence  of  the  ever-vigilant  chief  upon 
his  conference  with  Count  de  Rochambeau 
at  Hartford,  the  arch-traitor  proposed  to 
carry  his  perfidious  scheme  into  immedi- 
97 


Sept,  25, 


ate  execution.  He  promised  so  to  dispose 
the  garrison  as  to  weaken  the  post  as 
much  as  possible  b}^  the  dispersion  of  the 
troops,  and  gave  Andre  a  paper  in  which 
the  proposed  disposition  was  accurately 
described.  Washington  had  intended  to 
leave  West  Point  for  Hartford  on  the  17th 
of  September,  but  he  was  detained,  and 
did  not  set  out  until  the  20th.  As  he 
was  expected  to  return  from  the  latter 
place  and  be  at  Arnold's  headquarters  on 
the  25th,  Andre  also  conceived  the  bold 
project  of  capturing  the  American  chief 
and  his  suite  on  that  day. 

Before  noon,  the  whole  business  was 
arranged  between  the  conspirators.  The 
time  was  now  appointed  for  the 
delivery  of  the  fortress ;  and  as 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  his  troops  already 
embarked,  under  the  feint  of  despatching 
them  to  the  Chesapeake,  he  only  awaited 
the  return  of  Andre,  to  sail  up  the  Hud 
son,  and  by  the  easy  capture  of  West  Point 
to  consummate  the  deed  which  had  been 
planned  by  the  artful  Arnold. 

The  great  point  now  was,  for  Andre  to 
return  to  New  York.  He  insisted  that 
he  should  be  put  on  board  the  Vulture, 
to  which  Arnold  agreed ;  but  the  latter 
evidently  entertained  some  doubt  of  its 
feasibility,  for,  on  quitting  Smith's  house 
(about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning),  he 
wrote  three  passports,  two  of  which  were 
intended  for  a  land-route.  The  passports 
were  given  to  Smith,  drawn  as  follows : 

1.  "Joshua  Smith   has   permission  to 
pass  with  a  boat  and  three  hands,  and  a 
flag,  to  Dobbs's  ferry,  on  public  business, 
and  to  return  immediately." 

2.  "Joshua  Smith  has  permission  to 


770 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


pass  the  guards  to  the  White  Plains  and 
to  return,  he  being  on  public  business  by 
my  direction." 

3.  "  Permit  Mr.  John  Anderson  to  pass 
the  guards  to  the  White  Plains,  or  below 
if  he  chooses ;  he  being  on  public  business 
by  my  direction." 

Before  taking  leave  of  his  confederate, 
Arnold  strove  to  persuade  Smith  to  put 
Andre  on  board  the  Vulture.  His  efforts 
were,  however,  in  vain  ;  and,  although  he 
suggested  a  land-route  as  the  most  safe 
and  convenient,  he  left  Andre'  with  the 
impression  that  he  was  to  be  placed  on 
board  the  sloop.  "  Arnold  quitted  me," 
said  the  major,  "  having  himself  made  me 
put  the  papers  I  bore  between  my  stock 
ings  and  feet.  Whilst  he  did  it,  he  ex 
pressed  a  wish,  in  case  of  any  accident  be 
falling  me,  that  they  should  be  destroyed  ; 
which  I  said  would  of  course  be  the  case, 
as  when  I  went  into  the  boat  I  should 
have  them  tied  about  with  a  string  and 
a  stone.  Before  we  parted,  some  mention 
had  been  made  of  my  crossing  the  river 
and  going  another  route  ;  but  I  objected 
much  against  it,  and  thought  it  was  set 
tled  that  in  the  way  I  came  I  was  to  re 
turn." 

Audit?,  however,  could  not  persuade 
Smith  to  take  him  to  the  ship,  the  latter 
subsequently  alleging,  as  his  reason  for 
the  refusal,  that  he  had  a  fit  of  the  ague, 
and  his  health  would  not  allow  of  his  ex 
posure  in  a  boat.  But  it  was,  no  doubt, 
his  fear  of  the  danger  to  his  life,  in  case 
the  Vulture  (which  had  resumed  her  for 
mer  berth  in  the  river)  should  be  fired 
upon  from  Teller's  Point,  that  deterred 
him  from  making  the  attempt  to  board 


her.  Andre  had  now  no  alternative  but 
to  proceed  by  land.  Smith  promised  to 
accompany  him  until  they  should  get  be 
yond  the  American  posts. 

At  a  little  before  sunset  the  two  set 
out,  attended  by  a  negro-servant.  Andre 
had  taken  off  his  military  coat,  and  put 
on  a  citizen's,  one  belonging  to  Smith, 
over  which,  as  before,  he  wore  his  dark- 
blue  overcoat,  with  a  wide  cape,  buttoned 
close  to  the  neck.  The  young  British 
emissary  was  in  no  cheerful  mood,  as  the 
fact  of  his  being  in  disguise  within  the 
enemy's  lines  gave  rise  to  reflections  that 
were  by  no  means  consolatory  to  the  feel 
ings  of  a  brave  and  frank  soldier.  While 
his  companion  stopped  to  pass  a  word  of 
greeting  with  a  neighbor  on  the  road,  or 
to  join  some  acquaintances  at  the  tavern 
over  a  bowl  of  punch,  Andre  would  walk 
his  horse  ahead,  and,  when  overtaken  by 
Smith,  would  barely  open  his  lips  to  talk. 

On  crossing  King's  ferry,  and  passing 
at  dusk  through  the  works  at  Verplanck's 
Point,  Smith  called  at  Colonel  Livings 
ton's  tent,  and  was  invited  to  supper,  but 
Andre  and  the  servant  rode  on.  Smith, 
however,  declined  the  invitation  which 
he  received,  and  soon  overtook  his  com 
panion. 

They  proceeded  on  their  route  with 
out  interruption,  until  they  were  chal 
lenged,  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock, 
by  the  sentinel  of  a  patrol-guard,  near 
Crowpond,  about  eight  miles  from  Ver 
planck's  Point.  They  were  ordered  to 
stop,  when  Smith  dismounted,  and,  giv 
ing  the  bridle  of  his  horse  to  his  negro- 
servant,  walked  forward  and  asked  who 
commanded  the  patrol.  At  this  moment 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ADVENTUEES  OF  SMITH  AND  ANDRE. 


Captain  Boyd  presented  himself,  declar 
ing  that  he  was  the  commander. 

The  captain  was  particularly  inquisi 
tive,  but  Smith  answered  all  his  questions 
readily,  and,  saying  that  he  had  a  pass 
from  General  Arnold  requested  permis 
sion  to  proceed  at  once.  Boyd,  however, 
was  not  satisfied  until  he  had  conducted 
the  travellers  to  a  house  near  by,  where 
(as  it  was  dark)  he  could  procure  a  light 
to  examine  them  and  their  passport  more 
minutely.  Arnold's  sign-manual  satisfied 
the  captain  that  all  was  right,  but  he  still 
seemed  very  curious  to  know  something 
about  the  mysterious  business  they  were 
upon.  Smith,  in  behalf  of  himself  and 
his  fellow-traveller,  Mr.  Anderson,  respond 
ed  to  the  questions  as  best  he  could,  and 
told  his  inquisitor  generally  that  their  ob 
ject  was  to  obtain  intelligence,  and  that 
the  general  had  sent  them  to  White  Plains 
to  meet  a  person  for  that  purpose. 

Boyd  now  seemed  only  anxious  for 
their  safety,  and  earnestly  warned  them 
against  the  danger  of  travelling  any  far 
ther  that  night,  as  the  Cow-~boys  were  out, 
and  had  advanced  far  up  the  country .* 
Smith's  courage  was  not  proof  against  the 
chance  of  a  collision  with  these  merciless 
marauders,  and  he  at  once  fell  in  with 
Boyd's  proposition  to  postpone  the  con 
tinuance  of  their  journey  until  the  next 
morning.  Andre,  however,  was  not  so  ea 
sily  persuaded,  and  would  have  gone  on 
at  all  events  had  he  not  found  it  irnpos- 

*  The  Cow-hoys  were  desperate  freebooters  who  infested 
the  "  Neutral  Ground"  of  Westdiester  county,  and  were  en- 
frayed  in  plundering  cattle,  which  they  drove  into  New  York. 
The  Cow-boys  were  lories  ;  while  the  Skinners,  whose  occu 
pation  was  the  same,  and  their  character  no  better,  generally 
lived  within  the  American  lines,  and  professed  themselves 
friendly  to  the  patriot  cause. 


771 

sible  to  move  his  companion,  who  was  un 
alterably  fixed  in  his  resolve  not  to  run 
the  risk  of  a  night's  rencontre  with  the 
Coiv-boys.  The  travellers  accordingly,  at 
the  recommendation  of  Captain  Boyd,  re 
traced  their  route  a  short  distance,  until 
they  reached  the  cottage  of  one  Andreas 
Miller,  where  they  were  hospitably  re 
ceived,  but  so  humbly  entertained,  that 
Andre  and  Smith  were  obliged  to  content 
themselves  with  the  same  bed. 

After  passing  a  wakeful  night  within 
the  very  embraces  of  his  enemy,  the  Brit 
ish  major  was  up  betimes  in  the  morning, 
in  great  eagerness  to  start.  At  the  first 
dawn  of  light,  he  roused  the  negro,  and 
ordered  the  horses  to  be  got  ready.  After 
thanking  their  host,  who  refused  all  com 
pensation,  they  were  soon  in  their  sad 
dles,  and  riding  at  good  speed  along  the 
road  to  Pine's  bridge. 

When  Andre  had  got  fairly  beyond  the 
beat  of  the  patrol,  he  for  the  first  time 
on  the  journey  showed  his  natural  cheer 
fulness,  and  began  to  chat  in  the  liveliest 
manner,  much  to  the  surprise  of  Smith,  to 
whom  he  had  hitherto  appeared  a  remark 
ably  gloomy  and  taciturn  companion. 

Having  arrived  within  two  and  a  half 
miles  of  Pine's  bridge,  on  the  Croton  river, 
they  stopped  to  breakfast  at  a  Dutch  farm 
house  by  the  roadside.  The  good  house 
wife  had  lately  suffered  from  an  inroad 
of  the  Cow-boys,  who  had  plundered  her 
larder  and  depopulated  her  pastures,  but 
was  able  to  serve  her  guests  with  some 
hasty-pudding  and  milk.  After  refresh 
ing  themselves, Smith  divided  with  Andre 
the  small  sum  of  money  he  had  in  conti 
nental  bills,  and  took  leave.  The  former 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


rode  rapidly  back  on  his  way  to  Fishkill, 
where  his  family  had  been  removed,  and 
stopped  to  dine  as  he  passed  with  General 
Arnold,  at  the  Robinson  house,  to  whom 
he  reported  the  results  of  his  journey. 

Having  crossed  Pine's  bridge,  Andre 
called  to  mind  a  remark  of  Captain  Boyd, 
who,  in  order  to  put  the  travellers  on  their 
guard  against  danger,  had  said  that  the 
Cow-loys  (in  the  interest  of  "the  lower" 
party,  or  British)  had  been  far  up  on  the 
Tarrytown  road.  He  therefore  resolved 
to  take  this  instead  of  the  White-Plains 
route,  believing  that,  if  more  dangerous 
to  an  American,  it  would  probably  prove 
safer  to  an  Englishman.  Accordingly,  ta 
king  the  Tarrytown  road,  Andre  pursued 
it  without  interruption  until  he  reached 
a  part  where  it  crosses  a  brook 
within  half  a  mile  of  the  village, 
and  about  a  dozen  miles  north  of  Kings- 
bridge. 

Here  the  young  officer  was  riding  along 
in  a  cheerful  mood,  and  indulging  the 
most  pleasant  anticipations  of  complete 
success  in  his  scheme,  when  three  armed 
men  suddenly  sprang  out  of  the  bushes 
by  the  roadside ;  and  the  foremost  man, 
putting  his  firelock  to  the  breast  of  An 
dre,  and  ordering  him  to  stand,  asked 
which  way  he  was  going.  "  Gentlemen," 
said  Andre,  "  I  hope  you  belong  to  our 
party."—"  What  party  ?"  asked  the  man. 
" The  lower  party"  was  the  immediate  an 
swer  ;  for  Andre,  observing  that  his  inter 
rogator  had  on  a  British  refugee  uniform, 
believed  that  he  was  among  his  friends. 
The  men  then  declared  that  they  also  be 
longed  to  the  lower  party ;  when  Andre 
said,  "  I  am  a  British  officer,  out  of  the 


county  on  particular  business,  and  I  hope 
you  will  not  detain  me  a  moment ;"  and, 
to  show  that  he  was  of  the  importance 
which  he  professed  to  be,  he  took  out  his 
watch,  which,  being  gold,  was  in  those 
days  considered  an  evidence  of  superior 
position.* 

Andre  was  now  ordered  to  dismount, 
when  he  discovered  that  he  had  fallen, 
not  among  friends,  as  he  had  supposed, 
but  among  his  enemies.  "My  God,  I  must 
do  anything  to  get  along !"  exclaimed  the 
captive,  with  a  forced  laugh,  as  he  sought 
to  explain  away  what  he  had  previously 
said,  and  thereupon  pulled  out  General 
Arnold's  pass  :  "  Permit  Mr.  John  Ander 
son  to  pass  the  guards  to  the-White  Plains, 
or  below,  if  he  chooses ;  he  being  on  pub 
lic  business  by  my  direction." 

Andre  was,  however,  compelled  to  dis 
mount  ;  and,  as  he  found  that  his  captors 
were  disposed  to  cling  to  him,  he  said  : 
"  Gentlemen,  you  had  best  let  me  go,  or 
you  will  bring  yourselves  into  trouble ; 
for  your  stopping  me  will  detain  the  gen 
eral's  business"  —  and  explained  that  he 
was  going  to  Dobbs's  ferry,  to  meet  a  per 
son  there,  and  get  intelligence  for  General 
Arnold.  He  was  told  that  he  must  not 
be  offended,  as  nothing  would  be  taken 
from  him  ;  and  that,  as  many  bad  people 
were  going  along  the  road,  it  was  neces 
sary  to  examine  him. 

They  then  took  him  into  the  bushes, 
and  ordered  him  to  pull  off  his  clothes, 
which  he  did  without  hesitation,  but  no 
papers  were  found.  "His  boots  must  come 
off  too  /"  said  one  ;  but  Andre,  changing 

•*/  '  f  O          O 

color,  objected,  saying  that  they  came  ofl 

*  Irving. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          CAPTURE  AND  EXAMINATION  OF  ANDRE. 


773 


Sept,  23, 


with  difficulty,  and  begged  that  he  might 
be  spared  the  trouble  and  delay.  They, 
however,  persisted.  One  boot  was  pulled 
off,  and  nothing  found  —  then  the  other; 
when,  some  papers  being  felt  in  the  bot 
tom  of  his  stocking,  he  was  ordered  to 
pull  off  that,  and  three  papers  were  found 
in  it.  "  My  God,  he  is  a  spy !"  was  the 
exclamation  of  one  of  the  party,  as  he 
cast  his  eyes  hurriedly  over  the  papers. 

This  one  was  JOHN  PAULDING,  and  his 
companions  were  DAVID  WILLIAMS  and 
ISAAC  VAN  WART,  three  countrymen  of 
Westchester  county.  They  belonged  to 
a  party  of  seven  persons,  who  had  agreed 
to  set  out  on  that  morning,  in 
order  to  intercept  any  suspicious 
travellers,  or  droves  of  cattle,  with  the 
view  of  benefitting  by  a  law  of  the  state 
of  New  York,  and  of  a  military  custom, 
which  entitled  American  captors  to  the 
possession  of  all  property  seized  in  that 
way.  Four  of  the  seven  had  stationed 
themselves  on  a  hill,  which  commanded 
a  long  view  of  the  road ;  while  the  other 
three  had  taken  their  position  under  the 
shelter  of  some  bushes  by  the  roadside, 
where  two  were  playing  a  game  of  cards, 
and  the  third  was  standing  guard,  on  the 
lookout  for  travellers,  when  the  British 
emissary  passed  by. 

When  he  found,  by  the  exclamation  of 
Paulding,  that  his  true  character  was  dis 
covered,  Andre  was  ready  to  purchase  his 
escape  at  any  price.  Williams  asked  him 
what  he  would  give  to  be  let  go.  "  Any 
sum  of  money,"  was  his  answer.  Would 
he  give  his  horse,  saddle,  bridle,  watch, 
and  one  hundred  guineas  ?  "  Yes,  all !" 
Would  he  give  more  ?  "  Yes,  any  quan 


tity  of  dry-goods,  or  any  sum  of  money, 
and  bring  it  or  send  it  to  any  spot  which 
you  may  select." — "No!  if  you  ivoidd  give 
us  ten  thousand  guineas,  you  should  not  stir  one 
step  r  resolutely  interposed  Paulding. 

Andre  now  gave  up  all  hope,  and,  beg 
ging  that  he  might  be  asked  no  more 
questions,  mounted  his  horse,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  led  away  a  prisoner  by  his 
captors,  one  of  whom  walked  in  front, 
with  his  hand  occasionally  on  the  bridle, 
and  the  others  on  either  side.  About  noon 
they  stopped  at  a  farmhouse,  where  the 
family  were  at  dinner.  The  good  house 
wife,  struck  with  the  sorrowful  air  of  the 
"  poor  gentleman,"  pressed  him  kindly  to 
take  something  to  eat.  As  he  refused, say 
ing  that  he  had  no  appetite,  she,  "  glan 
cing  at  his  gold-laced  crimson  coat,"  apol 
ogized  for  her  humble  fare.  "  Oh,  mad 
am,"  said  Andre,  in  reply,  with  a  shake 
of  the  head,  "  it  is  all  very  good ;  but,  in 
deed,  I  can  not  eat."* 

The  nearest  military  post  belonging  to 
the  Americans  being  at  North  Castle,  the 
prisoner  was  taken  there,  and,  together 
with  the  papers  found  upon  his  person, 
delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  command 
ant,  Colonel  Jameson.  The  documents, 
which  were  in  the  handwriting  of  General 
Arnold,  without  any  attempt  at  disguise, 
Jameson  despatched  to  Washington ;  but 
Andre  he  sent  under  a  guard,  commanded 
by  Lieutenant  Allen,  to  Arnold  himself, 
together  with  a  letter,  in  which  he  stated 
that  the  prisoner  was  a  certain  John  An 
derson,  who  had  been  captured  on  his  way 
to  New  York.  "  He  had  a  passport,"  add 
ed  Jameson,  "  signed  in  your  name ;  and 

*  Irving. 


774 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


a  parcel  of  papers  taken  from  under  his 
stockings,  which  I  think  of  a  very  dan 
gerous  tendency,"  and  which  the  writer 
took  care  to  inform  Arnold  had  been  de 
spatched  to  Washington.  The  conduct 


of  Jameson  was  most  absurdly  irrational, 
granting,  as  every  one  does,  that  he  was 
innocent  of  having  designedly  put  Arnold 
upon  his  guard  against  the  effects  of  his 
treason,  and  thus  enabled  him  to  escape. 


CHAPTER   LXXXIX. 

The  Astonished  Tallmadge. — A  Diabolical  Treason. — The  Prisoner  brought  back. — The  "Innocent"  Arnold. — Letter  of 
Major  Andre  to  Washington.— A  Free  Confession. — An  Agreeable  Prisoner. — The  Return  of  Washington. — Waiting 
Breakfast. — Young  Men  in  Love. — Coolness  of  Arnold. — An  Abrupt  Departure. — Mrs.  Arnold  senseless. — Escape  of 
the  Traitor. — An  Act  of  Meanness. — Washington  crosses  the  Hudson. — No  Salute  ! — Meeting  with  Colonel  Hamilton. 
— An  Important  Packet. — Astounding  Developments. — Prompt  Action. — Composure  of  Washington. — A  Letter  from 
Arnold. — Sympathy  for  Mrs.  Arnold. — Her  Tears  and  Ravings. — Her  Sincerity  doubted. — Mrs.  Arnold  at  Philadel 
phia. — She  joins  her  Husband. 


1780, 


Sept,  23, 


WHEN  Major  Tallmadge,who  was 
Colonel  Jameson's  second  in  com 
mand,  returned  in  the  evening  to  the  post 
at  North  Castle,  whence  he  had  been  ab 
sent  during  the  day  on  duty,  and 
heard  of  the  capture  of  "John  An 
derson"  and  of  the  disposition  which  had 
been  made  of  him,he  was  greatly  astound 
ed  at  the  conduct  of  his  superior.  Tall- 
rnadge  had  very  little  doubt,  as  soon  as  he 
heard  the  story,  that  a  diabolical  treason 
had  been  detected,  and  that  General  Ar 
nold  was  the  chief  traitor.  He  frankly 
expressed  his  opinion  to  that  effect  to 
Jameson,  and,  urging  him  to  take  ener 
getic  measures  accordingly,  declared  that 
he  was  ready  to  assume  the  responsibil 
ity  of  such  action. 

Jameson  at  first  seemed  to  waver,  but 
finally,  refusing  to  entertain^  any  suspi 
cion  of  the  guilt  of  his  commanding  gen 
eral,  would  do  nothing  which  might  indi 
cate  it.  He  nevertheless  reluctantly  con 


sented  to  send  for  the  prisoner ;  not,  how 
ever,  to  keep  him  out  of  the  hands  of 
Arnold,  but  to  prevent  his  being  retaken 
by  the  enemy,  of  which  there  was  some 
danger,  as  a  party  of  them  were  known 
to  be  in  the  country  "  above."  Jameson 
accordingly  despatched  a  messenger  to 
overtake  Allen  in  all  haste,  with  a  note, 
in  which  that  officer  was  requested  to 
bring  back  his  prisoner,  with  the  guard. 
and  send  on  a  courier  with  the  letter  to  Arnold's 
headquarters. 

As  soon  as  Major  Andre  was  brought 
back,  Tallmadge  was  persuaded  that  he 
was  an  officer,  from  the  manner  in  which, 
in  striding  back  and  forth  in  the  room, 
he  turned  upon  his  heel,  ana  from  his 
general  military  bearing.  Jameson,  too, 
soon  became  of  this  opinion,  but  he  still 
obstinately  persisted  in  believing  Arnold 
innocent.  As  North  (or  Lower)  Salem, 
about  nine  miles  above  North  Castle,  was 
farther  within  the  American  lines,  it  was 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ANDRE  WRITES  TO  WASHINGTON. 


775 


determined,  for  security's  sake,  to  send 
the  prisoner  to  that  place. 

Major  Tallmadge  commanded  the  es 
cort,  and  conveyed  Andre  to  North  Sa 
lem,  where,  soon  after  his  arrival,  finding 
that  there  was  no  prospect  of  his  being 
sent  to  Arnold,  and  conscious  that  the 
papers  found  upon  his  person  had  been 
transmitted  to  Washington,  by  which  all 
would  soon  be  revealed,  the  captive  wrote 
this  letter :  — 

"SALEM,  24  September,  1780. 

"Sin:  What  I  have  as  yet  said  con 
cerning  myself  was  in  the  justifiable  at 
tempt  to  be  extricated ;  I  am  too  little 
accustomed  to  duplicity  to  have  succeed 
ed. 

"I  beg  your  excellency  will  be  per 
suaded  that  no  alteration  in  the  temper 
of  my  mind,  or  apprehension  for  my  safe 
ty,  induces  me  to  take  the  step  of  addres 
sing  you ;  but  that  it  is  to  rescue  myself 
from  an  imputation  of  having  assumed  a 
mean  character  for  treacherous  purposes 
or  self-interest  5  a  conduct  incompatible 
with  the  principles  that  actuate  me  as 
wrell  as  with  my  condition  in  life. 

"  It  is  to  vindicate  my  fame  that  I  speak, 
and  not  to  solicit  security. 

"  The  person  in  your  possession  is  Ma 
jor  JOHN  ANDRE,  adjutant-general  to  the 
British  army. 

"The  influence  of  one  commander  in 
the  army  of  his  adversary  is  an  advantage 
taken  in  war.  A  correspondence  for  this 
purpose  I  held ;  as  confidential  (in  the 
present  instance)  with  his  excellency  Sir 
Henry  Clinton. 

"To  favor  it,  I  agreed  to  meet,  upon 
ground  not  within  the  posts  of  either  ar 


my,  a  person,  who  was  to  give  me  intel 
ligence  ;  I  came  up  in  the  Vulture  man- 
of-war  for  this  effect,  and  was  fetched  by 
a  boat  from  the  ship  to  the  beach.  Being 
there.  I  was  told  that  the  approach  of  day 
would  prevent  my  return,  and  that  I  must 
be  concealed  until  the  next  night.  I  was 
in  my  regimentals,  and  had  fairly  risked 
my  person. 

"  Against  my  stipulation,  my  intention, 
and  without  my  knowledge  beforehand, 
I  wras  conducted  within  one  of  your  posts. 
Your  excellency  may  conceive  my  sensa 
tion  on  this  occasion,  and  will  imagine 
how  much  more  must  I  have  been  affect 
ed  by  a  refusal  to  reconduct  me  back  the 
next  night  as  I  had  been  brought.  Thus 
become  a  prisoner,  I  had  to  concert  my 
escape.  I  quitted  my  uniform,  and  was 
passed  another  way  in  the  night,  without 
the  American  posts,  to  neutral  ground, 
and  informed  I  was  beyond  all  armed  par 
ties,  and  left  to  press  for  New  York.  T 
was  taken  at  Tarrytown  by  some  volun 
teers. 

"  Thus,  as  I  have  had  the  honor  to  re 
late,  was  I  betrayed  (being  adjutant-gen 
eral  of  the  British  army)  into  the  vile  con 
dition  of  an  enemy  in  disguise  within  your 
posts. 

"  Having  avowed  myself  a  British  offi 
cer,  I  have  nothing  to  reveal  but  what 
relates  to  myself,  which  is  true,  on  the 
honor  of  an  officer  and  a  gentleman. 

"  The  request  I  have  to  make  to  your 
excellency,  and  I  am  conscious  I  addres? 
myself  well,  is,  that  in  any  policy  rigor 
may  dictate,  a  decency  of  conduct  toward 
me  may  mark,  that,  though  unfortunate, 
I  am  branded  with  nothing  dishonorable, 


776 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


as  no  motive  could  be  mine  but  the  ser 
vice  of  my  king,  and  as  I  was  involunta 
rily  an  impostor. 

"  Another  request  is,  that  I  may  be  per 
mitted  to  write  an  open  letter  to  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  and  another  to  a  friend  for  clothes 
and  linen. 

"  I  take  the  liberty  to  mention  the  con 
dition  of  some  gentlemen  at  Charleston, 
who,  being  either  on  parole  or  under  pro 
tection,  were  engaged  in  a  conspiracy 
against  us.  Though  their  situation  is  not 
similar,  they  are  objects  who  may  be  set 
in  exchange  for  me,  or  are  persons  whom 
the  treatment  I  receive  might  affect. 

"  It  is  no  less,  sir,  in  a  confidence  of  the 
generosity  of  your  mind,  than  on  account 
of  your  superior  station,  that  I  have  cho 
sen  to  importune  you  with  this  letter. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  great  re 
spect,  sir,  your  excellency's  most  obedient 
and  most  humble  servant, 

"JoiiN  ANDRE,  Adjutant-General 

"  His  Excellency  General  WASHINGTON." 

Andre  immediately  gave  this  letter  to 
Major  Tallmadge  to  read,  and,  having  as 
sumed  his  real  character,  he  regained  his 
usual  cheerfulness  of  demeanor.  Those 
about  him  found  him  not  only  social  and 
communicative,  but  even  exuberant  of 
gayety.  Having  refreshed  himself  by  a 
change  of  linen  from  the  proffered  toilet 
of  one  of  the  American  officers,  the  cap 
tive  felt  and  appeared  like  himself,  and, 
with  his  usual  fertility  of  resource,  con 
tributed  by  his  conversational  talents  and 
other  accomplishments  to  the  enjoyment 
of  those  who  surrounded  him.  Taking 
his  pen,  he  began  to  exercise  his  skill  at 
sketching,  and  drew  a  humorous  picture 


of  himself  and  his  guard  under  march. 
To  Mr.  Benson,  a  subaltern  officer,  whose 
apartment  he  shared,  he  presented  the 
drawing,  saying,  "  This  will  give  you  an 
idea  of  the  style  in  which  I  have  had 
the  honor  to  be  conducted  to  my  present 
abode." 

Washington  and  his  suite,  it  will  be  re 
membered,  had  gone  to  Hartford,  to  con 
fer  with  Count  de  Rochambeau  and  the 
French  admiral,  and  was  accordingly  ab 
sent  during  the  time  when  the  occurren 
ces  which  we  have  narrated  took  place. 
Having  been  unable  to  effect  anything  of 
importance  by  his  conference,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  had  hastened  back  two 
days  sooner  than  he  was  expected  by  Ar 
nold,  and,  having  changed  his  route  on 
his  return,  reached  Fishkill,  only  eighteen 
miles  from  Arnold's  headquarters,  on  the 
very  day  when  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  was  to  have  sailed  up  the 
Hudson  to  take  possession  of  West  Point. 
Washington  intended  to  have  arrived  at 
Arnold's  quarters  (at  the  Robinson  house) 
the  same  night,  and  had  actually  set  out ; 
but,  on  riding  two  or  three  miles  along 
the  road,  he  was  met  by  the  French  min 
ister,  M.  de  la  Luzerne,  who  was  on  his 
way  to  visit  Count  de  Rochambeau ;  and, 
as  he  expressed  a  great  desire  to  converse 
with  the  American  chief  on  matters  of 
importance,  he  prevailed  upon  him  to  re 
turn  to  Fishkill,  wherG  he  spent  the  night. 

Early  on  the  following  morn 
ing,  having  sent  forward  the  bag 
gage,  with  a  message  to  General  Arnold 
that  they  might  be  expected  at  breakfast, 
Washington  and  his  suite  followed  imme 
diately  on  horseback.  On  arriving  at  a 


Sept,  24, 


Sept.  25, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         ARRIVAL  OF  WASHINGTON.— ARNOLD'S  FLIGHT. 


777 


place  opposite  to  West  Point,  and  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  the  Robinson 
house,  Washington  turned  his  horse  down 
a  road  which  led  to  the  river.  "  General," 
called  out  Lafayette,  "you  are  going  in 
a  wrong  direction ;  you  know  Mrs.  Arnold 
is  waiting  breakfast  for  us,  and  that  road 
will  take  us  out  of  our  way." — "Ah  !"  re 
plied  Washington,  laughingly,"!  know 
you  young  men  are  all  in  love  with  Mrs. 
Arnold,  and  wish  to  get  where  she  is  as 
soon  as  possible.  You  may  go  and  take 
your  breakfast  with  her,  and  tell  her  not 
to  wait  for  me.  I  must  ride  down  and 
examine  the  redoubts  on  this  side  of  the 
river,  and  will  be  there  in  a  short  time." 
The  officers,  however,  remained  with 
Washington,  with  the  exception  of  two 
aids-de-camp,  who  were  directed  to  go  on 
in  advance,  and  explain  the  delay.  On 
the  arrival  of  the  aids  at  the  Robinson 
house,  they  found  breakfast  ready,  and 
General  Arnold  with  his  family  waiting. 
As  Washington  was  not  coming  immedi 
ately,  they  all  sat  down  to  the  table  ;  but, 
before  they  had  finished,  a  messenger  was 
announced.  He  bore  a  letter  for  Arnold, 
which  he  instantly  opened  and  read  while 
at  breakfast.  The  letter  was  from  Colo 
nel  Jameson,  at  North  Castle,  written  two 

days  before,  and  contained  the 
Sept,  23,  ./ 

intelligence   01   the   capture   or 

"John  Anderson"  This  was  startling  news 
to  Arnold.  He  suddenly  turned  pale,  but 
with  wonderful  self-control  so  stifled  his 
emotion  as  to  excite  no  notice.  Rising 
from  the  table,  the  traitor  coolly  apolo 
gized  for  his  abrupt  departure,  by  say 
ing  that  he  was  suddenly  sent  for  across 
the  river,  and  begged  that  the  aids-de- 


"&ev 
98 


camp  would  mention  the  circumstance  to 
Washington  on  his  arrival. 

As  Arnold  went  out,  he  beckoned  to 
his  wife  to  follow  him.  He  had  no  time 
to  spare :  so  he  abruptly  told  her,  when 
they  reached  her  apartment,  that  he  must 
leave  her,  and  perhaps  for  ever,  as  his  life 
depended  upon  his  escape  at  that  mo 
ment.  Mrs.  Arnold  no  sooner  heard  her 
husband's  words,  than  she  fell  senseless 
Hastily  kissing  her  and  their  infant  child, 
Arnold  hurried  down  the  stairs,  and  sent 
to  her  assistance  the  messenger  who  had 
brought  Jameson's  letter,  probably  in  or 
der  to  keep  her  away  from  the  presence 
of  the  other  officers.* 

The  traitor,  finding  the  horse  of  one  of 
Washington's  aids-de-camp  ready  at  the 
door,  sprang  into  the  saddle,  and  rode 
with  all  speed  down  a  steep  by-way,  since 
called  "Arnold's Path," to  the  landing-place 
of  the  river,  where  his  barge  was  moored. 
He  jumped  in,  and  ordered  his  six  oars 
men  to  pull  with  all  their  might  into  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  telling  them  that 
he  was  going  to  the  British  sloop-of-war 
Vulture  with  a  flag,  and  was  in  a  hurry 
to  be  back  in  time  to  meet  General  Wash 
ington  on  his  arrival.  In  order  to  keep 
them  well  to  their  work,  Arnold  encour 
aged  them  with  a  promise  of  two  gallons 
of  rum.  The  men  rowed  with  energy, 
and  Arnold,  holding  up  a  white  handker 
chief  for  a  flag  of  truce,  was  soon  placed 
alongside  of  the  Vulture,  which  lay  off 
Teller's  Point,  a  little  below  her  anchor 
age  where  Andre  left  her.  The  traitor 
had  no  sooner  presented  himself  to  the 
captain,  than  he  called  in  the  coxswain 

*  Irving. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


of  his  barge,  and  told  him  that  he  and 
the  rest  of  the  men  were  prisoners.  The 
latter,  however,  declared  that  he  and  his 
companions  were  not  prisoners,  as  they 
had  come  out  under  the  protection  of  a 
flag.  The  captain,  who  did  not  seem  to 
approve  of  Arnold's  act,  although  he  did 
not  interfere  with  his  orders,  told  the  cox 
swain  that  he  might  go  ashore  on  his  pa 
role,  to  obtain  some  clothing  for  himself 
and  the  others.  They  were  all  finally  re 
leased  on  the  arrival  of  the  Vulture  at 
New  York,  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  who  held 
"  in  just  contempt  such  a  wanton  act  of 
meanness"  on  the  part  of  Arnold.* 

The  traitor  had  but  just  gone  when 
Washington  rode  up  with  his  suite,  and, 
learning  the  supposed  cause  of  his  ab 
sence,  hurried  through  his  breakfast,  and 
determined  to  cross  over  at  once  to  West 
Point.  Here  he  expected  to  meet  Arnold, 
as  the  latter  had  left  word  with  the  aids- 
de-camp  that  he  had  been  suddenly  sum 
moned  there.  All  Washington's  officers 
accompanied  him,  with  the  exception  of 
Colonel  Hamilton,  who  remained  behind 
at  the  Robinson  house,  where  all  were 
expected  to  return  to  dinner. 

While  crossing  the  river,  Washington 
remarked,  as  he  looked  upon  the  impres 
sive  scenery  of  the  Hudson,  "  Well,  gen 
tlemen,  I  am  glad,  on  the  whole,  that  Gen 
eral  Arnold  has  gone  before  us,  for  we 
shall  now  have  a  salute,  and  the  roaring 

•*  O 

of  the  cannon  will  have  a  fine  effect  amon^ 

o 

these  mountains."  As  they  approached 
the  fort,  however,  not  a  gun  was  heard ! 
"What!"  exclaimed  the  commander-in- 
chief,  "  do  they  not  intend  to  salute  us  ?" 

*  Sparks. 


Soon  an  officer  was  seen  coming  down 
the  bank  to  the  shore.  It  was  Colonel 
Lamb,  who,  when  he  recognised  the  gen 
eral,  was  greatly  surprised,  and  apolo 
gized  for  the  apparent  neglect  of  the 
usual  ceremonies,  saying  that  the  visit 
was  entirely  unexpected. 

"How  is  this,  sir!  is  not  General  Ar 
nold  here?"  abruptly  exclaimed  Washing 
ton.  "  No,  sir,"  answered  the  colonel ;  "  he 
has  not  been  here  these  two  days,  and  I 
have  not  heard  from  him  during  that 
time." — "This  is  extraordinary,"  rejoined 
Washington,  with  an  expression  of  sur 
prise  ;  "  we  were  told  that  he  had  crossed 
the  river,  and  that  we  should  find  him 
here.  However,  we  must  not  lose  our 
visit.  Since  we  have  come,  we  will  look 
around,  and  see  how  things  are  with  you." 

The  commander-in-chief  and  his  offi 
cers  having  spent  some  time  in  inspecting 
the  fortress  and  garrison,  crossed  the  riv 
er  again  and  returned  to  the  landing- 
place  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  after  an  absence  of 
several  hours.  As  they  went  up  the  river- 
bank  toward  the  Robinson  house,  Colonel 
Hamilton  was  seen  to  be  coining  down 
hurriedly  to  meet  them. 

He  at  once  singled  out  Washington, 
and,  taking  him  aside,  spoke  to  him  in  a 
low  voice,  but  with  an  evident  expression 
of  earnestness.  They  now  hastened  to 
gether  to  the  house,  where  the  papers 
which  Colonel  Jameson  had  scut,  and  also 
Major  Andrd's  letter,  had  arrived,  the  im 
portant  revelations  of  which  Hamilton 
had  just  communicated  to  the  generai-in- 
chief.  The  messenger  whom  Jameson 
had  despatched  with  the  papers  found 


Sept,  25, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARNOLD'S  LETTER  TO  WASHINGTON. 


779 


upon  the  person  of  Andre*  had  taken  the 
"lower  road"  to  Hartford,  and  had  thus 
missed  Washington,  who,  as  may  be  rec 
ollected,  returned  by  the  upper  one.  The 
messenger,  discovering  the  fact  in  the 
course  of  his  journey,  hastened  by  the 
shortest  route  to  West  Point,  which  led 
by  Colonel  Sheldon's  post  at  North  Sa 
lem,  where  he  arrived  just  in  time  to  be 
the  bearer  of  Andre's  letter,  and  delivered 
it  together  with  the  papers  of  General 
Arnold.  When  the  messenger  arrived  at 
the  Robinson  house,  and  spoke  of  his 
packet  being  of  the  greatest  importance, 
Hamilton  broke  the  seal,  and  read  the 
contents ;  and  now,  on  the  return  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  he  immediately  sub 
mitted  them  to  him. 

Washington  acted  promptly.  He  sent 
off  Hamilton,  with  directions  to  gallop  in 
{ill  haste  to  Verplanck's  Point,  and  order 
the  commander  of  that  post  to  intercept 
Arnold,  if  possible,  as  there  could  be  no 
doubt  that  he  was  going  or  had  gone  over 
to  the  enemy.  In  the  meantime,  Wash 
ington  so  completely  retained  his  natural 
composure  of  manner,  that  he  bore  no  ap 
pearance  of  agitation.  The  treason  which 
he  had  discovered  he  kept  as  a  secret  from 
most  of  his  officers,  and  only  disclosed  it 
at  the  moment  to  General  Knox  and  La 
fayette.  "  Whom  can  we  trust  now  ?"  he 
mournfully  exclaimed  to  the  young  mar 
quis.  This  was  the  only  indication  that 
the  patriot  chief  gave  of  the  feeling  with 
which  he  contemplated  the  crime  of  Ar 
nold.  The  same  calmness  marked  his  de 
meanor  throughout.  On  the  announce 
ment  of  dinner,  he  said,  "  Come,  gentle 
men,  since  Mrs.  Arnold  is  unwell,  and  the 


general  is  absent,  let  us  sit  down  without 
ceremony ;"  and  during  the  whole  time 
he  was  at  table  there  was  no  observable 
change  in  his  usual  habits. 

Colonel  Hamilton's  ride  to  Verplanck's 
Point  was,  of  course,  of  no  avail.  Arnold, 
having  left  at  ten  o'clock,  some  six  hours 
before  Washington  was  cognizant  of  the 
cause  of  his  absence,  was  safely  on  board 
the  Vulture.  In  fact,  while  Hamilton  was 
at  the  Point,  a  flag  of  truce  arrived  from 
the  sloop,  with  a  letter  from  Arnold  to 
Washington,  which  was  immediately  sent 
forward  to  the  chief.  The  object  of  this 
letter  was,  to  entreat  a  kind  consideration 
for  his  wife,  who,  Arnold  wrote,  was  "  as 
good  and  as  innocent  as  an  angel,  and  in 
capable  of  doing  wrong."  He  exonerated 
Smith  and  his  aids-de-camp  from  all  com 
plicity  in  his  act,  which,  with  a  "  heart 
conscious  of  its  own  rectitude,"  he  would 
not  condescend  to  palliate,  nor  ask  any 
favor  for  himself,  for  he  had  too  often  ex 
perienced  the  ingratitude  of  his  country 
to  attempt  it.  The  Vulture  im 
mediately  sailed  down  the  river 
to  New  York,  where  on  the  same  night 
the  traitor  held  an  interview  with  his  new 
commander-in-chief,  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
and  received  the  reward  of  his  treachery ; 
but  the  design  against  West  Point,  now 
that  the  Americans  were  on  the  watch, 
under  the  vigilant  eye  of  their  chief,  was 
abandoned. 

Washington  needed  no  letter  from  her 
husband  to  engage  his  sympathies  in  be 
half  of  Mrs.  Arnold.  Her  position  wrought 
upon  every  manly  heart.  But  one  year 
a  mother,  and  not  two  a  bride,  the  poor 
young  creature  had  received  a  blow  of 


Sept,  25, 


780 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


the  most  appalling  nature.*  "  She  for  a 
considerable  time,"  wrote  Hamilton,  "  en 
tirely  lost  herself.  The  general  went  up 
to  see  her,  and  she  upbraided  him  with 
being  in  a  plot  to  murder  her  child  !  One 
moment  she  raved,  another  she  melted 
into  tears.  Sometimes  she  pressed  her 
infant  to  her  bosom,  and  lamented  its 
fate,  occasioned  by  the  imprudence  of 
its  father,  in  a  manner  that  would  have 
pierced  insensibility  itself.  All  the  sweet 
ness  of  beauty,  all  the  loveliness  of  inno 
cence,  all  the  tenderness  of  a  wife,  and 
all  the  fondness  of  a  mother,  showed  them 
selves  in  her  appearance  and  conduct. 


We  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  she 
was  entirely  unacquainted  with  the  plan, 
and  that  the  first  knowledge  of  it  was 
when  Arnold  went  to  tell  her  he  must 
banish  himself  from  his  country  and  from 
her  for  ever.  She  instantly  fell  into  con 
vulsions,  and  he  left  her  in  that  situa 
tion."* 

The  tenderest  care  was  bestowed  upon 
the  unfortunate  lady  by  all  in  attendance 
at  the  Robinson  house,  and  she  was  soon 
escorted  in  safety  to  Philadelphia,  where, 
after  residing  some  time  with  her  rela 
tives  and  friends,  she  joined  her  husband 
at  New  York. 


CHAPTER   XC. 

Washington  on  his  Guard. — The  Strengthening  of  Posts. — Arrests. — A  Conversation  with  Major  Andre. — His  Probable 
Fate. — The  Case  of  Captain  Nathan  Hale. — Civil  Treatment. — Strong  Guards. — A  Court-Martial  convened  at  Tap- 
pan. — Efforts  to  save  Andre. — The  Prisoner  before  the  Court. — His  Frank  Confession. — His  Magnanimity  and  Deli 
cacy. — A  Spy. — Sentence  of  Death. — Letter  from  Andre  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Offer  of  Exchange  of  Andre  for 
Arnold. — Its  Refusal. — Unjust  Suspicion  against  General  St.  Clair. — A  Jluse. — The  Suspicion  cleared. — A  Cunning 
Paper. 

the  commander  of  every  post  on  the  Hud 
son  was  directed  to  be  particularly  watch 
ful. 

Washington  despatched  an  officer  to 
arrest  Joshua  Hett  Smith  (the  guide  of 
Andre  previous  to  his  capture),  and  at 
the  same  time  sent  orders  to  Colonel 
Jameson  to  forward  his  prisoner  under  a 


1780, 


WASHINGTON,  although  of  opinion 
that,  by  the  capture  of  Andre,  the 
purpose  of  General  Arnold's  treason  had 
been  thwarted,  carefully  guarded  against 
danger  by  prudently  providing  every  se 
curity.  General  Greene,  who  had  been 
left  in  command  of  the  army  at  Old  Tap- 
pan,  in  New  Jersey,  during  the  absence 
of  the  chief  at  Hartford,  was  ordered  to 
march  the  left  wing  with  all  despatch  to 
King's  ferry.  The  defences  of  West  Point 
were  immediately  manned,  and  put  in  the 
best  possible  condition  for  resistance ;  and 

*  Lossing. 


*  Mrs.  Arnold  had  only  arrived  at  West  Point  ten  days 
before  the  discovery  of  her  husband's  treason,  and  there  was 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  she  was  at  all  cognizant  of  his 
purpose.  Some  have,  however  (hut  upon  no  better  author 
ity,  we  believe,  than  that  of  Aaron  Burr),  declared  that  she 
was  throughout  well  informed  of  Arnold's  proceedings,  and 
that  the  tears  and  convulsive  agonies  were  merely  shams  got 
up  for  the  occasion. 


RKVOLUTIONATCY.] 


REMOVAL  OF  ANDRE  TO  TAPPAN. 


781 


strong  guard  immediately  to  the  Robin 
son  house.  The  summons  reached  North 
Salem  in  the  middle  of  the  night;  and 
Andre,  being  aroused  from  his  bed,  was 
hurried  off  in  the  darkness,  while  torrents 
of  rain  were  pouring  down,  to  add  to  the 
dismalness  of  the  time.  Early  the  next 

morning,  the  captive  arrived  at 
Sept,  26,  ° ' 

the  Kobmsonhouse,where  Wash 
ington  declined  seeing  him.  The  same 
evening  he  was  taken  across  the  river  to 
West  Point,  where  he  remained  for  two 
days,  and  was  thence  conveyed  to  the 
American  camp  at  Tappan. 

«  When  we  left  West  Point  for 

o»     ...  ,,  -  ,      .          rl,     , ,  i 

Tappan,  says  Major  Tallmadge, 
who  commanded  the  guard,  "  early  in  the 
morning,  as  we  passed  down  the  Hudson 
river  to  King's  ferry,  I  placed  Andre  by 
my  side,  on  the  after-seat  of  the  barge. 
I  soon  began  to  make  inquiries  about  the 
expected  capture  of  our  fortress,  then  in 
full  view,  and  begged  him  to  inform  me 
whether  he  was  to  have  taken  a  part  in 
the  military  attack,  if  Arnold's  plan  had 
succeeded.  He  instantly  replied  in  the 
affirmative,  and  pointed  me  to  a  table  of 
land  on  the  west  shore,  which  he  said 
was  the  spot  where  he  should  have  land 
ed,  at  the  head  of  a  select  corps.  He  then 
traversed  in  idea  the  course  up  the  mount 
ain  into  the  rear  of  Fort  Putnam,  which 
overlooks  the  whole  parade  of  West  Point. 
And  this  he  did  with  much  greater  exact 
ness  than  I  could  have  done  ;  and  as  Ar 
nold  had  so  disposed  of  the  garrison,  that 
little  or  no  opposition  could  be  made  by 
our  troops,  Major  Andre  supposed  he 
should  have  reached  that  commanding 
eminence  without  difficulty.  In 


case,  that  important  key  of  our  country 
would  have  been  theirs  [the  enemy's], 
and  the  glory  of  so  splendid  an  achieve 
ment  would  have  been  his. 

"The  animation  with  which  he  gave 
the  account  I  recollect  perfectly  delight 
ed  me,  for  he  seemed  as  if  he  was  enter 
ing  the  fort  sword  in  hand.  To  complete 
the  climax,  I  next  inquired  what  was  to 
have  been  his  reward,  if  he  had  succeed 
ed.  He  replied  that  military  glory  was 
all  he  sought ;  and  that  the  thanks  of  his 
general,  and  the  approbation  of  his  king, 
were  a  rich  reward  for  such  an  underta 
king.  I  think  he  further  remarked  that, 
if  he  had  succeeded  (and,  with  the  aid  of 
the  opposing  general,  who  could  doubt 
success?),  he  was  to  have  been  promoted 
to  the  rank  of  brigadier-general. 

"  After  we  disembarked  at  King's  ferry, 
near  Haverstraw,  we  took  up  our  line  of 
march,  with  a  fine  body  of  horse,  for  Tap- 
pan.  Before  we  reached  the  Clove,  Major 
Andre  became  very  inquisitive  to  know 
my  opinion  as  to  the  result  of  his  capture. 
In  other  words,  he  wished  me  to  give  him 
candidly  my  opinion  as  to  the  light  in 
which  he  would  be  viewed  by  General 
Washington  and  a  military  tribunal,  if 
one  should  be  ordered.  This  was  the 
most  unpleasant  question  that  had  been 
propounded  to  me,  and  I  endeavored  to 
evade  it,  unwilling  to  give  him  a  true  an 
swer.  When  I  could  no  longer  evade  his 
importunity,  or  put  off  a  full  reply,  I  re 
marked  to  him  as  follows: —  » 

"  I  had  a  much-loved  classmate  in  Y;ile 
college,  by  the  name  of  Nathan  Hale,  who 
entered  the  army  in  1775.  Immediately 
after  the  battle  of  Long  island,  General 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II 


Washington  wanted  information  respect 
ing  the  strength,  position,  and  probable 
movements,  of  the  enemy.  Captain  Hale 
tendered  his  services,  went  over  to  Brook 
lyn,  and  was  taken  just  as  he  was  passing 
the  outposts  of  the  enemy  on  his  return. 
Said  I  with  emphasis, ( Do  you  remember 
the  sequel  of  this  story?' — 'Yes,'  said 
Andre,  'he  was  hanged  as  a  spy.  But 
you  surely  do  not  consider  his  case  and 
mine  alike  ?'  I  replied,  '  Yes,  precisely 
similar,  and  similar  will  be  your  fate !' 
He  endeavored  to  answer  my  remark,  but 
it  was  manifest  he  was  more  troubled  in 
spirit  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  before. 

"  We  stopped  at  the  Clove  to  dine,  and 
to  let  the  horse-guard  refresh.  While 
there,  Andre  kept  reviewing  his  shabby 
dress,  and  finally  remarked  to  me  that  he 
was  positively  ashamed  to  go  to  the  head 
quarters  of  the  American  army  in  such  a 
plight.  I  called  my  servant,  and  directed 
him  to  bring  my  dragoon-cloak,  which  I 
presented  to  Major  Andre.  This  he  re 
fused  to  take  for  some  time  ;  but  I  insist 
ed  on  it,  and  he  finally  put  it  on,  and  rode 
in  it  to  Tappan." 

Washington  sent  orders  that  the  cap 
tive  should  be  carefully  guarded,  but  at 
the  same  time  he  added,  « I  wish  the  room 
for  Major  Andre  to  be  a  decent  one,  and 
that  he  may  be  treated  civilly."  The  pris 
oner  was  accordingly  confined  to  a  single 
room  of  the  stone-house  in  which  he  was 
imprisoned  (but  a  short  distance  from  the 
headquarters  of  the  commander-in-chief), 
and  out  of  which  he  was  riot  allowed  to 
go  on  any  pretext  whatever;  and,  in  ad 
dition  to  the  usual  guards,  two  officers, 
with  drawn  swords,  remained  constantly 


in  the  apartment,  while  the  others  were 
ordered  to  "  keep  walking  the  entry  and 
around  the  sentries,  to  see  that  they  are 
alert."  Andre  not  only  received  the  ci 
vility  which  Washington  enjoined,  but  was 
treated  by  every  one  with  a  kindness  of 
manner  in  accordance  with  the  universal 
sympathy  felt  for  the  accomplished  young 
officer  who  had  been  seduced  to  ruin  by 
that  arch-traitor  Arnold. 

The  commander-in-chief,  having  taken 
every  possible  precaution  at  West  Point 
and  on  the  Hudson,  returned  to  the  camp 
at  Tappan,  and  immediately  convened  a 

board  of  fourteen  general  offi- 

.  b  Sept,  29, 

cers  in  the  Dutch  church  near  at 

hand,  to  investigate  the  case  of  Major 
Andre.  It  consisted  of  Major-Generals 
Greene,Stirling,St.Clair,  Lafayette,  Howe, 
and  Steuben;  and  of  Brigadiers  Parsons, 
James  Clinton,  Knox,  Glover,  Paterson, 
Hand,  Huntington,  and  Stark.  General 
Greene  was  president  of  the  board  ;  and 
Colonel  John  Lawrence,  subsequently  a 
distinguished  legislator  and  jurist,  acted 
as  judge  advocate-general.* 

In  the  meantime,  great  efforts  were  be 
ing  made  by  the  British  commander,  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  and  the  other  officers,  by 
all  of  whom  Andre  was  greatly  beloved, 
to  obtain  his  release.  Sir  Henry's  first 
communication  was  merely  a  direct  re 
quest  that  his  majesty's  adjutant-general 
might  be  permitted  to  return  immediate 
ly  to  his  orders.  This  was,  however,  ac 
companied  by  a  letter  from  General  Ar 
nold,  in  which  the  whole  responsibility  of 

*  Colonel  Lawrence  was  a  member  of  Congress  through 
out  President  Washington's  administration,  and  was  then 
appointed  a  judge  of  the  district  court  of  New  York.  He 
was  four  years  in  the  United  Statos  senate. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         ANDRE  CONDEMNED.— HIS  LETTER  TO  CLINTON. 


783 


Sept,  29, 


Andre's  conduct  was  assumed  by  himself. 
He  had  sent  a  flag  of  truce  to  bring  him 
on  shore ;  he  had  given  him  the  papers 
written  by  himself;  he  had  directed  him 
to  assume  a  feigned  name,  and  he  had 
furnished  him  with  a  passport  to  go  to 
New  York  by  White  Plains.  These  were 
acts  which  Arnold  declared  he  himself 
had  not  only  done,  but,  being  in  com 
mand,  had  a  right  to  do  :  if  wrong,  there 
fore,  the  traitor  insisted  that  the  respon 
sibility  should  rest  with  him  and  not  with 
Major  Andre. 

The  board  assembled,  and  Andre  was 
brought  before  it.  He  was  treated  with 
every  indulgence,  and  wras  not 
required  to  answer  any  interrog 
atory  which  might  embarrass  his  feelings. 
The  prisoner,  in  a  few  words,  gave  a  nar 
rative  of  the  incidents  which  had  occurred 
from  the  time  of  his  coming  on  shore  to 
his  capture ;  but,  while  he  frankly  con 
fessed  everything  relating  to  himself,  he 
took  care  not  to  implicate  others.  His 
delicacy  in  this  particular  was  such,  that 
when  General  Greene  spoke  of  Smith's 
house  as  the  place  of  meeting  with  Ar 
nold,  Andre  quickly  interposed, "  I  said  a 
house,  sir,  but  I  did  not  say  whose  house." 
— " True,"  replied  Greene, "nor  have  we 
any  right  to  demand  this  of  you,  after  the 
condition  we  have  allowed." 

When  Andre  was  asked  whether,  when 
he  came  on  shore,  he  considered  himself 
under  the  protection  of  a  flag  of  truce,  he 
frankly  declared  that  "it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  suppose  he  came  on  shore  un 
der  the  sanction  of  a  flag ;  and  added  that, 
if  became  on  shore  under  that  sanction,  he 
might  certainly  have  returned  under  it." 


Without  any  examination  of  witnesses, 
and  from  the  prisoner's  own  confession 
alone,  the  board  reported  that  in  its  opin 
ion  Major  Andre  ought  to  be  considered 
a  spy,  and  to  suffer  death  accordingly. 
When  the  decision  was  announced  to  the 
captive,  he  received  it  with  manly  forti 
tude,  and  remarked  to  Colonel  Hamilton, 
whose  sympathies,  with  those  of  all  the 
younger  officers,  were  warmly  enlisted  in 
behalf  of  the  condemned  man :  "  I  foresee 
my  fate,  and,  though  I  pretend  not  to  play 
the  hero,  or  to  be  indifferent  about  life, 
yet  I  am  reconciled  to  whatever  may  hap 
pen  ;  conscious  that  misfortune,  not  guilt, 
has  brought  it  upon  me." 

With  a  delicacy  characteristic  of  Andre, 
he  seemed  more  sensible  of  the  grief  that 
his  condemnation  might  cause  to  others 
than  of  the  fatal  consequences  to  himself. 
To  Sir  Henry  Clinton  he  wrote  the  fol 
lowing  letter:  — 

"TAPPAN,  29  September,  1780. 

"Sin:  Your  excellency  is  doubtless  al 
ready  apprized  of  the  manner  in  which  I 
was  taken,  and  possibly  of  the  serious 
light  in  which  my  conduct  is  considered, 
and  the  rigorous  determination  that  is  im 
pending. 

"  Under  these  circumstances,  I  have  ob 
tained  General  Washington's  permission 
to  send  you  this  letter;  the  object  of  which 
is  to  remove  from  your  breast  any  suspi 
cion  that  I  could  imagine  I  was  bound  by 
your  excellency's  orders  to  expose  my 
self  to  what  has  happened.  The  events 
of  coming  within  an  enemy's  posts,  and 
of  changing  my  dress,  which  led  me  to 
rny  present  situation,  were  contrary  to 
my  own  intentions,  as  they  were  to  your 


784 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


orders ;  and  the  circuitous  route  which  I 
took  to  return  was  imposed  (perhaps  un 
avoidably)  without  alternative  upon  me. 

"I  am  perfectly  tranquil  in  mind,  and 
prepared  for  any  fate  to  which  an  honest 
zeal  for  my  king's  service  may  have  de 
voted  me. 

"In  addressing  myself  to  your  excel 
lency  on  this  occasion,  the  force  of  all 
my  obligations  to  you,  and  of  the  attach 
ment  and  gratitude  I  bear  you,  recurs  to 
me.  With  all  the  warmth  of  my  heart, 
I  give  you  thanks  for  your  excellency's 
profuse  kindness  to  me ;  and  I  send  you 
the  most  earnest  wishes  for  your  welfare 
which  a  faithful,  affectionate,  and  respect 
ful  attendant,  can  frame. 

"  I  have  a  mother  and  two  sisters,  to 
whom  the  value  of  my  commission  would 
be  an  object,  as  the  loss  of  Grenada  has 
much  affected  their  income.  It  is  need 
less  to  be  more  explicit  on  this  subject ; 
I  am  persuaded  of  your  excellency's  good 
ness. 

"  I  receive  the  greatest  attention  from 
his  excellency  General  Washington,  and 
from  every  person  under  whose  charge  I 
happen  to  be  placed. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  the  most 
respectful  attachment,  your  excellency's 
most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 
"  JOHN  ANDRE, 

"  Adjutant-  General." 

Washington  sent  with  this  letter  one 
from  himself  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in 
which  he  announced  the  decision  of  the 
board,  and  repeated  the  circumstances 
which  in  his  opinion  justified  it.  There 
was  now  but  one  hope  for  Major  Andre. 
Could  the  enemy  be  persuaded  to  deliver 


up  Arnold.,  then  Andre  would  be  set  free. 
Washington  himself  could  hardly  venture 
to  hope  that  a  proposition  to  that  effect 
could  be  entertained,  and  he  therefore 
made  no  formal  advances  for  the  purpose. 
Captain  Aaron  Ogden,  however,  was  sent 
with  an  escort  to  carry  despatches  to  the 
British  post  at  Paulus  Hook  (now  Jersey 
City)  for  Sir  Henry  Clinton  at  New  York, 
and  at  the  same  time  was  authorized  to 
declare  that  Andre  would  be  given  in  ex 
change  for  Arnold.  But  the  English  com 
mander  would  not  listen  to  the  sugges 
tion  for  a  moment. 

As  Captain  Ogden  was  mustering  his 
escort  to  return  to  the  American  camp, 
he  found  that  the  sergeant  -was  missing. 
Seeking  for  him  in  vain,  he  came  back 
with  the  conclusion  that  he  had  lost  the 
man  by  desertion  to  the  British.  The 
sergeant,  however,  was  playing  a  part  un 
suspected  by  his  captain,  but  in  accord 
ance  with  the  direction  of  Washington, 
who  had  prevailed  upon  him  to  enter  the 
enemy's  lines,  under  the  pretence  of  be 
ing  a  deserter.  The  object  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  was,  to  obtain  information 
in  regard  to  the  truth  of  a  paper  implica 
ting  General  St.  Clair  in  Arnold's  treason, 
and  which  had  been  intercepted.  The 
sergeant  acted  his  part  successfully,  and 
came  back  with  the  satisfactory  intelli 
gence  that  there  was  no  foundation  what 
ever  for  the  imputed  treason ;  and  it  was 
inferred  that  the  paper  was  a  contrivance 
of  the  enemy,  to  cause  distrust  and  dis 
sension  in  the  American  army.  "  The 
treason  of  Arnold,"  says  Lossing,  "so  un 
expected  and  so  appalling,  aroused  for  a 
moment  the  most  unjust  and  ungenerous 


RETOLUTIONABT.]     SUSPICION  AGAINST  ST.  CLAIR.— NO  HOPE  FOR  ANDRE.        785 


suspicions  against  many  of  the  most  faith 
ful  republicans  in  and  out  of  the  army. 
The  old  slanders  against  the  unfortunate 
St.  Clair,  propagated  after  his  retreat  from 
Ticonderoga  in  1777,  were  awakened  from 
their  slumbers;  and  these, assuming  a  new 
shape,  were  put  into  active  circulation 
through  anonymous  letters  and  papers, 
and  other  cowardly  means.  In  them  he 
was  charged  with  direct  complicity  with 
the  traitor.  The  mind  of  Washington 
was  disturbed,  yet  his  sense  of  justice 
would  not  allow  him  to  condemn  any 
man,  even  by  his  own  impressions,  with 
out  ample  proof  of  guilt.  His  tenderness 
also  would  not  allow  him  to  accuse  with 


out  a  solid  ground  for  belief  of  guilt ;  and 
he  employed  the  trusty  Major  Henry  Lee 
(who  was  stationed  upon  the  lines  with 
his  dragoons)  to  investigate  the  matter 
secretly.  The  result  was,  a  full  convic 
tion  of  St.  Glair's  innocence. 

"  Colonel  Richard  Varick  and  Major 
Franks,  the  aids  of  Arnold,  were  also  in 
cluded  in  those  unjust  suspicions  :  indeed, 
almost  every  hour  a  malicious  whisper 
against  the  fidelity  of  the  best  men  reach 
ed  the  ear  of  the  commander-in-chief.  But 
his  uneasiness  soon  gave  way  to  confi 
dence  and  serenity ;  and  the  treason  of 
Arnold  served  to  make  the  true  friends 
of  the  cause  of  freedom  more  vigilant." 


CHAPTER    XCI. 

No  Hope  for  Major  Andre. — Commissioners  and  Letters. — Threats  of  Arnold. — Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  abduct  the  Trai 
tor  from  the  British  Camp. — Sergeant  Champe. — The  Halter  or  a  Ball. — Affecting  Letter  of  Andre"  to  Washington. — 
Stern  Sense  of  Duty. — The  Hanging  of  Andr6. — Description  by  an  Eye-Witness. — His  Fortitude. — Sight  of  the  Gal 
lows. — Last  Words. — A  Momentary  Pang. — The  Burial. — The  Remains  removed  to  England. — A  Monument  in  West 
minster  Abbey. — Royal  Honors. — Sympathy  of  Americans. — Monument  at  Tarrytown. — Rewards  of  the  Captors  of 
Andre. — Their  Conduct. — Incorruptible  Patriots. — Their  Graves. — Rewards  of  Arnold. — Contempt  for  Him  by  the 
English. — His  Duel. — Vicissitudes  in  the  Life  of  Mrs.  Arnold. 


1780, 


THERE  was  now  no  hope  for  Ma 
jor  Andre.  Washington  had  ap 
proved  the  sentence  of  the  court-martial 
which  tried  and  condemned  him,  and  had 
signed  his  death-warrant.  The  time  ap 
pointed  for  his  execution  was  the  first  of 
October,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  however,  still  strove 
to  save  the  unfortunate  youth;  and  the 
execution  was  delayed  one  day,  in  con 
sequence  of  a  letter  from  the  British  com- 
99 


mander,  asking  for  a  conference  between 
commissioners  on  the  subject,  to  be  held 
at  Dobbs's  ferry.  That  conference  was 
held,  at  which  the  British  commissioners 
endeavored  to  prove  that  Andre  was  not 
a  spy,  and  therefore  did  not  merit  the 
penalty ;  but  nothing  was  presented  by 
the  friends  of  the  prisoner  to  warrant  a 
change  in  the  decision  of  the  court-mar 
tial. 

General  Arnold  now  wrote  another  let- 


'86 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


ter  to  Washington,  in  which,  as  before, 
he  not  only  assumed  the  responsibility 
of  Andre's  conduct,  and  claimed  immuni 
ty  for  him,  but  threatened  retaliation  in 
case  he  should  be  executed.  "  If,  after 
this  just  and  candid  representation  of 
Major  Andre's  case,"  said  Arnold,  at  the 
close  of  his  letter,  "  the  board  of  general 
officers  adhere  to  their  former  opinion,  I 
shall  suppose  it  dictated  by  passion  and 
resentment ;  and  if  that  gentleman  should 
suffer  the  severity  of  their  sentence,  I 
shall  think  myself  bound  by  every  tie  of 
duty  and  honor  to  retaliate  on  such  un 
happy  persons  of  your  army  as  may  fall 
within  my  power,  that  the  respect  due  to 
flags,  and  to  the  law  of  nations,  may  be 
better  understood  and  observed. 

"  If  this  warning  should  be  disregarded, 
and  he  suffer,  I  call  Heaven  and  earth  to 
witness  that  your  excellency  will  be  just 
ly  answerable  for  the  torrents  of  blood 
that  may  be  spilt  in  consequence." 

In  the  meanwhile,  as  the  honor  of  the 
British  commander  would  not  allow  him 
to  deliver  up  Arnold  in  exchange  for  the 
captive  Andre,  a  scheme  was  finally  laid 
to  abduct  the  traitor,  convey  him  to  the 
American  camp,  and  execute  him.  Spies 
in  New  York  informed  the  American  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  Arnold's  quarters,  his 
habits,  his  hours  of  privacy,  and  the  im 
portant  fact  that  he  walked  late  every 
night  alone  in  a  garden  that  led  down  to 
the  shore  of  the  Hudson.  Washington 
sent  for  Major  Henry  Lee,  a  man  in  whom 
he  could  confide  implicit!  y,,and  asked  his 
aid  in  efforts  to  secure  the  traitor.  Lee 
selected  Sergeant  Champe,  of  his  legion, 
for  the  enterprise,  who  deserted  by  per 


mission,  went  to  New  York,  enlisted  in 
Arnold's  corps,  and  matured  a  plan  for 
his  abduction  on  some  occasion  when  he 
should  be  walking  in  the  garden.  Whale- 
boats  were  to  come  from  the  Jersey  shore 
at  a  certain  hour,  when  the  traitor  was  to 
be  seized,  gagged  and  bound,  and  carried 
away.  On  the  very  day  when  the  scheme 
was  to  be  executed,  Arnold  and  his  corps, 
including  Sergeant  Champe,  sailed  on  a 
predatory  expedition  into  Virginia,  and 
the  plan  failed.  Some  months  afterward, 
Champe  deserted  and  rejoined  his  legion, 
then  in  North  Carolina.* 

Andre,  made  aware  of  his  fate,  showed 
neither  surprise  nor  fear.  He  calmly 
awaited  his  death,  although  he  said  that 
there  was  still  "  a  choice  in  the  mode," 
which  would  make  a  material  difference 
in  his  feelings.  He  desired  that  he  mi<z;ht 

O  O 

be  shot,  instead  of  being  hung,  as  is  usual 
in  the  case  of  spies.  To  obtain  this  favor, 
he  wrote  to  Washington:  — 

"TAPPAN,  1   October,  17  SO. 

"Sin:  Buoyed  above  the  terror  of  death, 
by  the  consciousness  of  a  life  devoted  to 
honorable  pursuits,  and  stained  with  no 
action  that  can  give  me  remorse,  I  trust 
that  the  request  I  make  to  your  excel 
lency  at  this  serious  period,  and  which  is 
to  soften  my  last  moments,  will  not  be 
rejected. 

"Sympathy  toward  a  soldier  will  sure 
ly  induce  your  excellency  and  a  military 
tribunal  to  adapt  the  mode  of  my  death 
to  the  feelings  of  a  man  of  honor. 

"  Let  me  hope,  sir,  that  if  aught  in  iny 
character  impresses  you  with  esteem  tow 
ard  me,  if  aught  in  my  misfortunes  marks 

*  Lossing. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


EXECUTION  OF  ANDRE. 


787 


me  as  the  victim  of  policy  and  not  of  re 
sentment,  I  shall  experience  the  opera 
tion  of  these  feelings  in  your  breast,  by 
being  informed  that  I  am  not  to  die  on  a 
gibbet. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  excellen 
cy's  most  obedient  and  most  humble  ser 


vant, 


"JoiiN  ANDRE." 


Oct.  2. 


This  letter  could  not  fail  to  impress 
Washington,  as  it  has  done  all  who  ever 
read  it,  by  its  dignified  pathos;  but  its 
request  was  denied,  from  a  stern  sense  of 
duty. 

The  hour  of  Major  Andre's  execution 
was  fixed  at  twelve  o'clock.  An 
eye-witness  thus  described  it: 
"The  principal  guard-officer,  who  was  con 
stantly  in  the  room  with  the  prisoner,  re 
lates  that  when  the  hour  of  his  execution 
was  announced  to  him  in  the  morning,  he 
received  it  without  emotion ;  and,  while 
all  present  were  affected  with  silentgloom, 
he  retained  a  firm  countenance,  with  calm 
ness  and  composure  of  mind.  Observing 
his  servant  enter  the  room  in  tears,  he 
exclaimed,  'Leave  me  till  you  can  show 
yourself  more  manly  !'  His  breakfast  be 
ing  sent  to  him  from  the  table  of  General 
Washington,  which  had  been  done  every 
day  of  his  confinement,  he  partook  of  it 
as  usual ;  and,  having  shaved  and  dressed 
himself,  he  placed  his  hat  on  the  table, 
and  cheerfully  said  to  the  guard-officers, 
I  am  ready  at  any  moment,  gentlemen, 
to  wait  on  you.' 

"  The  fatal  hour  having  arrived,  a  large 
detachment  of  troops  was  paraded,  and 
an  immense  concourse  of  people  assem 
bled;  almost  all  our  general  and  field- 


officers,  excepting  his  excellency*  and  his 
staff,  were  present  on  horseback ;  melan 
choly  and  gloom  pervaded  all  ranks,  and 
the  scene  was  affectingly  awful.  I  was 
so  near  during  the  solemn  march  to  the 
fatal  spot  as  to  observe  every  movement, 
and  participate  in  every  emotion  which 
the  melancholy  scene  was  calculated  to 
produce. 

"  Major  Andre  walked  from  the  stone- 
house  in  which  he  had  been  confined,  be 
tween  two  of  our  subaltern  officers,  arm- 
in-arm.  The  eyes  of  the  immense  mul 
titude  were  fixed  on  him,  who,  rising  su 
perior  to  the  fears  of  death,  appeared  as 
if  conscious  of  the  dignified  deportment 
which  he  displayed.  He  betrayed  no  want 
of  fortitude,  but  retained  a  complacent 
smile  on  his  countenance,  and  politely 
bowed  to  several  gentlemen  whom  he 
knew,  which  wras  respectfully  returned. 
It  was  his  earnest  desire  to  be  shot,  as 
being  the  mode  of  death  most  conform 
able  to  the  feelings  of  a  military  man,  and 
he  had  indulged  the  hope  that  his  request 
would  be  granted.  At  the  moment,  there 
fore,  when  suddenly  he  came  in  view  of 
the  gallows, he  involuntarily  started  back 
ward,  and  made  a  pause.  l  Why  this  emo 
tion,  sir  ?'  inquired  an  officer  by  his  side. 
Instantly  recovering  his  composure,  he 
said, '  I  am  reconciled  to  my  death,  but  I 
detest  the  mode.' 

"  While  waiting,  and  standing  near  the 
gallows,  I  observed  some  degree  of  trepi 
dation  ;  placing  his  foot  on  a  stone,  and 
rolling  it  over,  and  choking  in  his  throat, 
as  if  attempting  to  swallow.  So  soon, 

*  Washington  is  believed  never  to  have  seen  Andre,  or  at 
least  to  have  held  any  direct  personal  intercourse  with  him. 


788 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


however,  as  he  perceived  that  things  were 
in  readiness,  he  stepped  quickly  into  the 
wagon,  and  at  this  moment  he  appeared 
to  shrink ;  but  instantly  elevating  his  head 
with  firmness  he  said, '  It  will  be  but  a 
momentary  pang ;'  and,  taking  from  his 
pocket  two  white  handkerchiefs,  the  pro 
vost-marshal  with  one  loosely  pinioned 
his  arms,  and  with  the  other  the  victim, 
after  taking  off  his  hat  and  stock,  band 
aged  his  own  eyes  with  perfect  firmness, 
which  melted  the  hearts  and  moistened 
the  cheeks,  not  only  of  his  servant,  but 
of  the  throng  of  spectators.  The  rope 
being  appended  to  the  gallows,  he  slipped 
the  noose  over  his  head  and  adjusted  it 
to  his  neck,  without  the  assistance  of  the 
awkward  executioner.  Colonel  Scammel 
now  informed  him  that  he  had  an  oppor 
tunity  to  speak,  if  he  desired  it.  He  raised 
the  handkerchief  from  his  eyes,  and  said, 
I  pray  you  to  bear  me  witness  that  I 
meet  my  fate  like  a  brave  man.'  The 
wagon  being  now  removed  from  under 
him,  he  was  suspended,  and  instantly  ex 
pired  ;  it  proved,  indeed,  but  a  moment 
ary  pang."* 

Thus  perished  the  brave,  amiable,  and 
accomplished  John  Andre,  at  the  early 
age  of  twenty-nine  years.  The  regiment 
als  in  which  he  was  executed  were  given 
to  his  servant.  His  body  was  interred  at 
Tappan,  near  the  place  of  execution,  and 
there  it  remained  until  1821,  when,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  duke  of  York  (the  next 
younger  brother  of  George  IV.,  and  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  British  army),  the 
remains  were  removed  to  England,  and 
deposited  in  Westminster  abbey. 

*  Thacher. 


King  George  III.,  in  order  to  wipe  away 
the  stain  of  his  mode  of  death  from  the 
family,  bestowed  the  order  of  knighthood 
upon  a  younger  brother,  and  ordered  a 
magnificent  monument  to  be  erected  to 
the  memory  of  Andre  in  Westminster  ab 
bey,  on  which  was  inscribed  a  glowing 
epitaph. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  also  paid  the  follow 
ing  tribute  to  his  adjutant  in  his  general 
orders  to  the  army  on  the  occasion  of  his 
death  :  "  The  unfortunate  fate  of  this  offi 
cer  calls  upon  the  commander-in-chief  to 
declare  that  he  ever  considered  Major  An 
dre  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  integrity 
and  honor,  and  incapable  of  any  base  ac 
tion  or  unworthy  conduct." 

Even  among  the  Americans  there  was 
a  sad  feeling  of  regret  at  the  necessity 
which  existed  for  the  condemnation  of 
Andre.  "  While  every  one  acquainted 
with  the  facts," observes  Lossing,  "regard 
ed  the  sentence  as  just,  there  was  a  uni 
versal  feeling  of  sympathy  for  the  unfor 
tunate  young  officer.  In  all  the  trying 
scenes  to  which  he  was  exposed,  his  de 
portment  was  noble  and  winning.  Death 
appeared  to  have  no  terrors  for  him,  but 
he  was  deeply  grieved  at  the  manner  in 
which  he  was  doomed  to  suffer.  He  dis 
claimed  all  intentions  to  become  a  spy, 
declaring  that  he  was  left  within  the 
American  lines  by  accident ;  and  upon 
this  plea  some  have  predicated  a  severe 
judgment  concerning  the  part  taken  in 
the  matter  by  Washington  and  his  gener 
al  officers.  But  the  judgment  of  military 
men,  and  those  who  have  weighed  all  the 
circumstances  dispassionately,  is,  that  the 
sentence  was  just,  and  its  execution  expe 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        THE  CAPTORS  OF  ANDRE.— ARNOLD  IN  NEW  YORK. 


789 


dient.  Could  the  members  of  the  court- 
martial,  with  due  regard  to  the  good  of 
their  country,  have  made  a  decision  in 
consonance  with  their  feelings,  he  would 
not  have  suffered  death.  In  the  army, 
and  among  the  people,  there  was  a  strong 
desire  to  substitute  Arnold  for  Andre; 
and  sympathy  for  the  victim  of  a  villain's 
wiles  has  ever  been  a  predominant  feeling 
in  the  breasts  of  Americans  when  consid 
ering  the  treason  of  Arnold.  That  sym 
pathy  found  expression  a  few  years  ago, 
when  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  the 
unfortunate  young  officer  was  erected  up 
on  the  spot,  at  Tarry  town,  where  he  was 
arrested  by  the  three  republicans." 

The  men  who  had  captured  Andre*  — 
Paul  ding,  Van  Wart,  and  Williams — were 
highly  applauded  for  their  noble  spirit. 
"Their  conduct,"  said  Washing 
ton,  in  a  letter  to  the  president 
of  Congress,  "  merits  our  warmest  esteem, 
and  I  beg  leave  to  add  that  I  think  the 
public  will  do  well  to  make  them  a  hand 
some  gratuity.  They  have  prevented,  in 
all  probability,  our  suffering  one  of  the 
severest  strokes  that  could  have  been 
meditated  against  us."  Congress  acted 
upon  this  suggestion,  and  generously  re 
warded  each  of  the  captors  with  a  pen 
sion  for  life  of  two  hundred  dollars,  and 
honored  each  with  a  silver  medal,  on  one 
side  of  which  was  inscribed  Fidelity,  and 
on  the  other  Vincit  Amor  Patrice — "THE 
LOVE  OF  COUNTRY  CONQUERS." 

Major  Andre  had  stated  that,  when 
these  men  first  discovered  him,  they  were 
playing  a  game  of  cards ;  and  that,  after 
they  had  captured  him,  their  sole  object 
seemed  to  be  money.  They  ripped  up 


Oct.  7, 


the  housings  of  his  saddle  and  the  cape 
of  his  coat,  to  seek  for  it;  but,  finding 
none,  one  of  the  three  exclaimed,  "  He 
may  have  it  in  his  boots !"  Andre  be 
lieved  that,  if  he  could  have  given  them 
a  small  sum  of  money  at  first,  he  might 
have  escaped.  Granting,  however,  as  is 
probable,  that  the  first  object  of  the  cap 
tors  was  money,  there  can  be  no  question 
that,  when  they  discovered,  by  means  of 
the  papers,  the  true  character  of  their 
prisoner,  they  resisted  all  appeals  to  their 
own  interests,  and  were  constant  to  those 
of  their  country.  Their  integrity  was  cer 
tainly  proof  against  bribery,  and  they  de 
serve  to  be  recorded  in  history  as  incor 
ruptible  patriots.  The  remains  of  Pauld- 
ing  sleep  beneath  a  handsome  white  mar 
ble  monument,  in  the  burial-ground  of 
St.  Peter's  church,  near  Peekskill ;  those 
of  Van  Wart  are  under  a  similar  monu 
rnent  in  the  Greenburg  churchyard,  near 
the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Neparan,  in 
Westchester  county;  and  those  of  Wil 
liams  lie  in  the  churchyard  at  Livings- 
tonville,  in  Schoharie  county. 

Soon  after  the  traitor's  arrival  in  New 
York,  with  the  hope  of  alluring  the  dis 
contented  to  his  standard,  he  published 
"  an  address  to  the  inhabitants  of  Amer 
ica,"  in  which  he  endeavored  to  justify  his 
conduct.  This  was  followed  in  about  a 
fortnight  by  a  proclamation,  addressed 
"  to  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  conti 
nental  army,  who  have  the  real  interest 
of  their  country  at  heart,  and  who  are  de 
termined  to  be  no  longer  the  tools  of  Congress 
and  of  France"  But  these  proclamations 
did  not  in  the  least  produce  the  effects 
designed. 


790 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Arnold  reaped  the  reward  of  his  trea 
son —  the  elevated  rank  of  brigadier-gen 
eral  in  the  British  army,  and  the  hand 
some  sum  of  ten  thousand  pounds  ster- 
lincr — though  it  has  been  affirmed  that 

o  O 

he  obtained  only  a  portion  of  the  money 
stipulated  for.  In  gaming  these,  however, 
he  lost  everything  else.  He  was  looked 
upon  with  contempt  by  those  very  per 
sons  who  had  sought  to  profit  by  his 
treachery;  and  was  taunted  with  being 
the  author  of  an  abortive  treason,  in  the 
conception  and  partial  execution  of  which 
he  stood  alone,  and  as  the  only  American 
officer  who  forsook  the  cause  of  freedom, 
turned  his  sword  against  his  country,  and 
so  left  to  his  children  "  a  name  of  hateful 
celebrity."  It  is  true  he  was  employed 
subsequently  in  the  war,  in  consequence 
of  his  military  talents,  and  his  acquaint 
ance  with  the  country ;  and  into  the  ser 
vice  of  his  royal  purchaser  the  traitor  now 
entered  with  a  ferocious  spirit  of  revenge, 
mercilessly  ravaging  the  coast  and  sea 
port  towns  of  Virginia,  and  desolating 
with  fire  and  sword  the  property  of  his  in 
jured  countrymen  of  Connecticut  almost 
within  sight  of  his  childhood's  home  :  but 
he  never  acquired  the  confidence  of  his 
superiors,  the  friendship  of  his  equals,  nor 
the  respect  of  his  inferiors.  Indeed,  he 
was  both  hated  and  despised  by  his  new 
companions-in-arms.  The  British  officers 
shunned  his  society ;  and  the  common  sol 
diers  on  guard,  while  acknowledging  his 
official  rank  with  a  salute,  would  whisper 
to  each  other  as  he  passed,  "There  goes 
the  traitor  Arnold  T 

Thus  wrote  Colonel  Laurens,  in  a  letter 
to  Washington,  concerning  the  death  of 


Andre  :  "  Arnold  must  undergo  a  punish 
ment  comparatively  more  severe,  in  the 
permanent,  increasing  torment  of  a  men 
tal  hell."  Washington,  however,  viewed 
his  case  in  a  different  light,  and  regarded 
Arnold  as  callous.  "  He  wants  feeling," 
replied  the  chief.  "  He  seems  to  have 
been  so  hackneyed  in  villany,  and  so  lost 
to  all  sense  of  honor  and  shame,  that, 
while  his  faculties  will  enable  him  to  con 
tinue  his  sordid  pursuits,  there  will  be  no 
time  for  remorse." 

On  arriving  in  England,  after  the  close 
of  the  war,  Arnold  was  recognised  offi 
cially  as  it  were,  by  those  in  authority 
only,  while  the  rest  of  the  world  regarded 
him  with  contempt.  The  British  people, 
though  they  might  "love  the  treason,  de 
spised  the  traitor."  On  one  occasion,  as 
Arnold  was  standing  near  the  throne, 
while  a  petition  for  a  bill  \vas  being  pre 
sented  in  the  usual  form  to  the  king,  he 
was  observed  by  Lord  Lauderdale,  who, 
when  he  returned  to  the  house  of  peers, 
declared  that,  "  however  gracious  might 
be  the  language  he  had  heard  from  the 
throne,  his  indignation  could  not  but  be 
highly  excited  at  beholding  his  majesty 
supported  by  a  traitor."  On  another  oc 
casion,  the  earl  of  Surrey,  as  he  arose  to 
speak,  caught  a  glimpse  of  Arnold  in  the 
gallery,  when  he  at  once  sat  down,  and, 
with  his  finger  pointed  at  him,  exclaimed, 
"I  will  not  speak  while  that  man  is  in 
the  house!" 

It  may  well  be  conceived  that  Arnold, 
with  his  revengeful  spirit  and  reckless 
physical  courage,  could  ill  brook  such 
contemptuous  treatment,  and  that  noth 
ing  but  their  privilege  as  peers  saved 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         CLOSING  CAREER  OF  ARXOLD.— HIS  WIFE. 


791 


them  from  being  held  amenable  to  the 
code  of  the  duelist.  One  nobleman,  how 
ever,  who  had  insulted  Arnold,  permitted 
a  friend  to  accept  his  challenge  to  fight. 
The  next  morning,  at  the  hour  appoint 
ed  for  the  meeting,  in  a  secluded  quarter 
of  London,  Arnold  appeared  promptly  on 
the  ground,  and  his  opponent  somewhat 
late.  The  parties  having  taken  their  re 
spective  positions,  and  the  word  to  fire 
about  to  be  given,  Arnold  prematurely 
discharged  his  pistol,  but  without  hitting 
his  antagonist ;  upon  which  the  latter, 
raising  his  weapon  aloft,  fired  it  in  the 
air,  and  then  with  a  glance  of  scorn,  cool 
ly  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  left  the  spot. 

Arnold  resided  principally  in  England 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  war ;  though 
he  was  for  a  while  in  Nova  Scotia,  where 
he  found  a  welcome  among  the  refugee 
American  loyalists.  He  was  afterward 
in  the  West  Indies,  where  he  was  taken 
prisoner  by  the  French  ;  but,  making  his 
escape,  he  returned  to  England,  and  end 
ed  his  life  in  comparative  obscurity,  in 
Gloucester  place,  London,  June  14, 
1801. 

A  spirit  of  avarice  seems  to  have  been 


the  ruling  trait  in  the  character  of  Ar 
nold.  When  Washington  learned  the  de 
fection  of  his  general,  he  was  almost  over 
whelmed  by  the  discovery;  but  calling 
to  mind  Arnold's  habits  of  extravagance 
and  his  peculations,  he  said,  "  I  thought 
that  a  man  who  had  shed  his  blood  in 
the  cause  of  his  country  could  be  trusted, 
but  I  am  convinced  now  that  those  tuho 
are  wanting  in  private  probity  are  unworthy 
of  public  confidence." 

The  unfortunate  wife  of  the  traitor 
became  an  exile  from  her  country,  and 
shared  in  a  degree  the  coldness  of  pub 
lic  feeling  abroad  toward  her  husband. 
When  she  returned  to  Philadelphia,  at 
the  time  of  his  treason,  she  resolved  to 
separate  from  him  for  ever;  but  the  ex 
ecutive  council  of  Pennsylvania,  sus 
pecting  her  of  complicity  in  his  commu 
nications  with  Andre  (it  being  known 
that  she  had  corresponded  with  that  offi 
cer  before  her  marriage),  would  not  con 
sent,  and  ordered  her  to  leave  the  state 
within  fourteen  days,  and  not  return 
again  during  the  war.  Joining  her  hus 
band  in  New  York,  she  went  with  him 
to  Nova  Scotia,  and  thence  to  England. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA 


[PART  u. 


CHAPTER   XCII. 

Lord  Cornwallis  in  Camp  at  Camden. — A  Savage  Proclamation. — Cruelty  to  Prisoners. — Awe  not  Subjection. — Marion 
in  the  Swamps. — Spirit  of  the  Patriots. — Victory  of  Britton's  Neck. — Tarleton  "on  a  Fox-Hunt." — The  British  beaten 
at  Broad  River. — Sumterat  Black  Stocks. — Victory. — Sumter  wounded. — Ferguson  on  his  March. — The  "Mountain- 
Men." — An  Appeal  to  the  Loyalists. — Ferguson  posted  on  King's  Mountain. — The  March  of  the  Mountain-Men. — 
Campbell,  of  Virginia. — His  Life  and  Character. — The  Farmers  astir. — A  Grim  Audience. — King's  Mountain. — De 
scription. — Order  of  Attack. — The  Struggle. — The  Fourth  Charge. — Desperate  Fight. — The  Last  Charge. — Fall  of 
Ferguson. — Victory  of  the  Patriots. — Death  of  Edmonston. — The  Results. 


LORD  CORNWALLIS,  triumphant  as 
1780 

lie  had  been  at  Camden  over  Gen 
eral  Gates,  on  the  16th  of  August,  did  not 
immediately  pursue  his  conquests.  The 
extreme  heat  of  the  weather,  and  the 
want  of  supplies,  kept  him  in  his  camp  at 
Camden.  His  lordship,  however,  was  ac 
tive  in  preparations  for  the  coming  cam 
paign.  He  sent  his  emissaries  into  North 
Carolina,  to  encourage  the  loyalists  there 
to  take  up  arms  and  assemble,  with  the 
promise  of  soon  marching  to  their  sup 
port. 

In  the  meantime,  every  measure  of  rig 
or  was  adopted  which  might  be  supposed 
effective  in  crushing  out  the  remnants  of 
"rebellion"  in  the  Carolinas.  A  savage 
proclamation  was  issued  by  the  earl,  ac 
cording  to  which  all  those  who,  after  hav 
ing  once  submitted,  had  again  taken  up 
arms  against  the  king,  were  to  be  impris 
oned,  and  their  property  taken  from  them 
or  destroyed  ;  and  every  militiaman  who 
had  once  served  with  the  British,  and  af 
terward  joined  the  Americans,  was  threat 
ened  with  immediate  hanging!  These 
cruel  threats,  however,  instead  of  effect 
ing  his  lordship's  object  of  extinguishing 


the  "  rebellion,"  gave  the  strength  of  des 
peration  to  resistance. 

No  measure  of  Lord  Cornwallis  was 
more  odious  and  more  exasperating  than 
his  treatment  of  the  prisoners  taken  on 
the  fall  of  Charleston.  Finding  letters 
from  some  of  these  in  the  baggage  which 
had  fallen  into  his  hands  after  the  defeat 
of  Gates,  the  earl  charged  them  with  hav 
ing  broken  their  parole,  and  made  this 
accusation  a  cover  for  the  greatest  severi 
ty.  Regardless  of  his  previous  promises, 
he  caused  many  of  the  leading  republi 
cans  of  South  Carolina,  including  Christo 
pher  Gadsden,  the  lieutenant-governor  of 
the  state,  Doctor  David  Ramsay,  the  his 
torian  of  the  war,  most  of  the  civil  and 
militia  officers,  and  a  large  number  of  the 
principal  inhabitants  of  Charleston,  about 
sixty  in  all,  to  be  dragged  from 
their  beds  early  in  the  morning 
by  armed  parties ;  and,  after  being  mus 
tered  at  the  public  exchange,  they  were 
hurried  on  board  a  guard-ship  and  trans 
ported  to  St.  Augustine,  in  Florida,  where 
they  were  subjected  equally  to  bondage 
and  every  form  of  indignity,  and  kept  as 
I  so  many  hostages  for  the  good  behavior 


Aug.  27, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         AMERICAN  PRISONERS  AT  ST.  AUGUSTINE. 


793 


of  the  citizens.  After  Major  Andre's  ex 
ecution,  these  hostages  were  frequently 
threatened  with  the  halter,  in  retaliation 
for  the  fate  of  that  officer.  The  deter 
mination  of  the  British  commander  ap 
peared  to  be  to  annihilate  the  spirit  of 
independence  by  trampling  upon  the  per 
sons  of  its  best  asserters.  On  their  arri 
val  at  St.  Augustine,  the  prisoners  were 
offered  paroles  to  enjoy  liberty  within  the 
precincts  of  the  town.  The  sturdy  pa 
triot  Gadsderi  refused  acquiescence,  for 
he  disdained  making  further  terms  with 
a  power  that  did  not  regard  the  sanctity 
of  a  solemn  treaty.  He  was  determined 
not  to  be  deceived  a  second  time.  "  Had 
the  British  commanders,"  said  the  lieu 
tenant-governor,  "  regarded  the  terms  of 
capitulation. at  Charleston,  I  might  now, 
although  a  prisoner,  enjoy  the  smiles  and 
consolations  of  my  family  under  my  own 
roof;  but  even  without  a  shadow  of  ac 
cusation  preferred  against  me,  for  any  act 
inconsistent  with  my  plighted  faith,  I  am 
torn  from  them,  and  here,  in  a  distant 
land,  invited  to  enter  into  new  engage- 

7  O     O 

ments.  I  will  give  no  parole  !" — "  Think 
better  of  it,"  answered  Governor  Tonyn, 
who  was  in  command  ;  "  a  second  refusal 
of  it  will  fix  your  destiny  :  a  dungeon  will 
be  your  future  habitation." — "  Prepare  it 
then,"  rejoined  the  inflexible  patriot.  "I 
will  give  no  parole,  so  help  me  God!" 
And  the  petty  tyrant  did  "  prepare  it ;" 
and  for  forty-two  weeks  that  incorrupti 
ble  old  republican  of  nearly  threescore 
years  never  saw  the  cheerful  light  of  day, 
but  lay  immured  in  the  dungeon  of  the 
castle  of  St.  Augustine/'5 

*  Lossing. 

100 


Aug.  18. 


Of  the  prisoners  taken  at  the  battle  of 
Camden,  and  at  Sumter's  defeat 
by  Taiieton  two  days  afterward, 
several  were  selected,  bound  with  cords, 
and  carried  to  Camden,  where  they  were 
hung  without  trial  as  rebels,  under  the 
express  order  of  Lord  Cornwallis.  In  al 
most  every  section  of  the  state,  the  prog 
ress  of  the  British  was  marked  with  blood 
and  with  other  deeds  of  equal  atrocity. 
Many  of  the  militia  were  executed  on  va 
rious  and  worthless  pretexts,  and  most 
unfrequently  without  even  the  form  of 
trial;  and  private  citizens  were  closely 
confined  on  board  of  prison-ships,  where 
they  perished  of  foul  diseases  and  with 
out  attendance. 

The  spirit  of  the  patriots  was  overawed 
but  not  subdued  by  these  harsh  proceed 
ings.  Opposition  was  not  extinguished. 
The  policy  of  the  British  commander  was 
short-sighted.  True  manhood  is  never 
more  resolute  than  when  it  feels  itself 
wronged ;  and  the  Carolinians  were  nev 
er  more  determined  for  their  liberties 
than  in  the  moment  of  their  greatest  de 
nial  and  disaster.*  Marion  and  S unite r, 
with  their  partisan  bands,  were  watching 
from  their  fastnesses  every  opportunity 
of  striking  a  blow  for  the  recovery  of 
their  country  and  their  homes. 

After  the  defeat  of  General  Gates,  Ma 
rion  had  left  South  Carolina  for  a  short 
time,  but  soon  returned  to  the  swamps 
and  defiles  below  and  along  the  San  tee 
river,  and  under  every  disadvantage  con 
tinued  to  struggle  against  an  overwhelm 
ing  enemy.  For  weeks  he  could  muster 
but  seventy  men,  and  at  one  time  this 

*  Simms. 


794 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[rAKT    II. 


number  was  reduced  to  only  twenty-five. 
With  the  saws  of  the  neighboring  mills 
turned  into  sabres  for  his  horsemen,  and 
frequently  without  ammunition,  Marion 
kept  the  hosts  of  the  enemy  at  bay. 

Hearing  that  a  body  of  prisoners  taken 
at  the  defeat  of  Gates,  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  in  number,  was 
under  march  for  Charleston,  guarded  by 
a  strong  escort,  Marion  determined  upon 
the  rescue  of  the  captives.  Placing  his 
mounted  men  in  ambush,  in  one  of  the 
swamps  that  skirt  the  wood  from  Nelson's 
ferry  to  Monk's  Corner,  he  darted  upon 
the  escort  and  succeeded  in  capturing  the 
whole  party.  Having  put  the  arms  of 
the  British  into  the  hands  of  the  rescued 
Americans,  he  hurried  across  the  Santee, 
and  did  not  pause  until  his  prisoners  were 
safely  disposed  of  within  the  limits  of 
North  Carolina.  He  was  far  upon  his 
way  beyond  the  arm  of  danger  before  the 
parties  detached  by  Cornwallis,  to  drive 
him  from  his  covert,  had  reached  the 
scene  of  his  enterprise. 

Every  scheme  was  adopted  by  the  en 
emy  to  ferret  out  Marion,  and  prevent  the 
inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country 
from  joining  him.  A  ruthless  corps  of  Brit 
ish  soldiery,  under  Major  Wemyss,  was 
detached  to  devastate  that  region.  Scores 
of  houses  were  burnt  on  the  banks  of  the 
Pedee  and  Black  rivers, but  the  patriotism 
of  the  inhabitants  was  only  stimulated  to 
greater  efforts  by  these  wanton  cruelties  ; 
and,  burning  with  revenge,  they  sought  a 
home  in  the  camp  of  Marion  and  his  men. 
Here,  with  no  shelter  but  the  recesses  of 
the  swamps,  they  suffered  every  hardship, 
but  felt  themselves  amply  compensated 


for  all  when  they  could  sally  out  under 
their  brave  leader  and  avenge  their  mani 
fold  wrongs  upon  their  cruel  enemy. 

Marion  took  care  that  his  spirited  fol 
lowers  should  not  want  opportunities  for 
action.  Always  on  the  alert,  he  pounced 
upon  a  body  of  tories,  under  Major  Gai- 
ney,  at  Britton's  Neck,  and  gained  a  com 
plete  victory,  without  losing  himself  a 
single  man.  Again,  in  an  hour  after,  he 
fell  upon  Captain  Barfield  and  some  loy 
alists,  a  few  miles  distant,  and  put  them 
to  total  rout.  Colonel  Tarleton  was  or 
dered  by  Cornwallis  to  hunt  up  and  strive 
to  entrap  the  "  Swamp-Fox ;"  but  the  indt>~ 
fatigable  British  dragoon,  though  always 
in  full  cry  after  him,  could  -not  succeed, 
for  Marion  skilfully  turned  and  turned  in 
his  swamp-cover,  and  thus  eluded  every 
effort  of  his  pursuer.  Tarleton  strove  to 
bring  him  to  action,  and  Marion  was  thus 
tempted  to  come  out,  but,  finding  his  en 
emy  overwhelmingly  strong,  he  retired 
again  to  his  secure  retreats. 

Cornwallis,  having  obtained  his  sup 
plies,  was  prepared  to  begin  a  campaign. 
He  accordingly,  early  in  September,  de 
tached  Colonel  Ferguson,  the  brave  and 
efficient  leader  of  the  seventy-first  regi 
ment,  in  advance,  and  proposed  to  follow 
him  immediately  from  Charlotte,  in  North 
Carolina,  whither  he  had  penetrated  after 
the  defeat  of  General  Gates  at  Camden. 
Ferguson  was  directed  to  visit  the  north 
western  settlements  of  the  Carolinas,  up 
to  the  Virginia  frontier,  in  order  to  en 
courage  the  loyalists  of  that  quarter  to 
vigorous  action.  He  had  under  his  com 
mand  a  strong  but  disorderly  force,  con 
sisting  of  tories  and  British,  nearly  fifteen 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         COLONEL  FERGUSON  AND  "THE  MOUNTAIN-MEN." 


795 


hundred  in  all ;  and  his  route  through  the 
country  was  distinguished  by  every  sort 
of  atrocity  and  violence.  On  his  march, 
he  heard  of  the  unsuccessful  attack  of 
Colonel  Clarke,  with  about  five  hundred 
Americans,  upon  the  British  garrison  at 
Augusta ;  and,  as  the  latter  was  now  re 
turning  from  Georgia,  Ferguson  resolved 
to  cut  him  off  This  turned  the  British 
commander  from  his  route,  and  he  there 
fore  marched  to  Gilbert-town,  a  village  on 
the  frontier,  to  ward  the  mountains.  Here, 
although  far  removed  from  the  support 
of  the  main  body  of  the  army  under  Earl 
Cornwallis,  he  felt  secure,  as  he  believed 
in  that  remote  district  there  was  not  a 
force  which  was  strong  enough  to  dare  to 
"  look  him  in  the  face."  Ferguson,  how 
ever,  did  not  know  the  country  and  the 
spirit  of  its  people. 

Westward  of  the  Alleghanies  lived  "  the 
mountain-men,"  a  race  of  hardy  settlers, 
who  fed  their  flocks  in  the  valleys  and  on 
the  mountain-sides.  In  the  constant  pur 
suit  of  game,  and  in  frequent  rencontres 
with  the  Creek  and  Cherokee  Indians,  in 
that  wild  country,  they  had  become  in 
ured  to  danger,  and  skilful  in  the  use  of 
firearms.  They  were,  moreover,  ardent 
patriots.  The  lively  representations  of 
those  who  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
the  British  marauders,  now  awakened  the 
mountaineers  to  a  sense  of  their  own  dan 
ger.  Hitherto,  they  had  only  heard  of 
war  at  a  distance ;  and,  in  the  peaceable 
possession  of  that  independence  for  which 
their  countrymen  along  the  seaboard  had 
been  contending,  they  had  in  a  measure 
been  indifferent  to  the  issue.  But  the 
approach  of  Colonel  Ferguson  aroused 


them  from  their  apathy,  and  they  deter 
mined  to  embody  themselves  for  their 
own  defence.  Such  were  the  formidable 
opponents  who  gathered  their  several 
bands  from  remote  tracts — from  the  wa 
ters  of  the  Cumberland,  in  Virginia,  or 
from  the  Saluda  and  Savannah,  in  Caro 
lina —  and  rendezvoused  in  the  valley  of 
the  Watauga,  to  oppose  the  British  com 
mander  and  his  troops.  They  came  — 
nearly  three  thousand  in  number — most 
of  them  on  horseback,  but  many  afoot, 
some  dressed  in  the  fringed  hunting-shirt 
and  buckskin  leggings,  others  in  home 
spun,  and  bearing  on  their  shoulders  the 
long,  small-bore  rifle  of  that  day.* 

Colonel  Ferguson,  surprised  by  such  a 
formidable  gathering,  made  an  earnest 
appeal  to  the  loyalists  of  the  country  to 
join  his  standard :  "  If  you  choose,"  said 
he, "  to  be  trodden  upon  for  ever  and  ever 
by  a  set  of  mongrel  curs,  say  so  at  once, 
and  let  women  look  out  for  real  men  to 
protect  them  !  If  you  desire  to  live,  and 
bear  the  name  of  men,  grasp  your  arms 
in  a  moment,  and  run  to  camp !" 

Finding  but  few  of  the  inhabitants  dis 
posed  to  come  to  his  aid,  Ferguson  began 
to  retire  toward  the  main  body  of  the 
British  army,  and  sent  word  to  Cornwal 
lis,  announcing  his  movement,  and  ex 
plaining  its  cause  in  the  sudden  appear 
ance  of  a  formidable  and  unexpected  op 
position.  His  messengers,  however,  were 
were  intercepted.  In  the  meantime,  he 
crossed  the  Broad  river,  at  the 
Cherokee  ford,  in  Yorkville  dis 
trict,  with  eleven  hundred  and  twrenty- 


Oct,  1, 


*  Address  of  the  Honorable  John  S.  Preston,  Yorkville, 
South  Carolina,  1855. 


796 

five  men,  and  took  post  on  King's  mount- 
ain,  about  two  miles  below  tbe  line  that 
divides  North  and  South  Carolina,  where 
lie  was  so  confident  of  the  strength  of  his 
position,  that  he  wrote  in  one  of  his  de 
spatches,  "  All  the  rebels  out  of  hell  can 
not  drive  me  from  it !" 

The  "  mountain-men"  were  now  follow 
ing  in  hot  pursuit.  Being  unencumbered 
with  baggage,  their  movements  were  rap 
id  and  prompt.  "  Each  man  set  out  with 
his  blanket,  knapsack,  and  gun,  in  quest 
of  Colonel  Ferguson,  in  the  same  manner 
he  was  used  to  pursue  the  wild  beasts  of 
the  forest.  At  night  the  earth  afforded 
them  a  bed,  and  the  heavens  a  covering ; 
the  running  stream  quenched  their  thirst, 
while  a  few  cattle  driven  in  their  rear,  to 
gether  with  the  supplies  acquired  by  their 
guns,  secured  them  provision." 

On  reaching  Gilbert-town,  which  had 
been  evacuated  by  Ferguson,  and  fearful 
lest  he  might  escape  and  form  a  junction 
with  Cornwallis,  about  nine  hundred  of 
the  strongest  mountaineers,  mounted  on 
the  swiftest  horses,  were  chosen  to  lead 
the  chase. 

Without  waiting  for  daylight,  these 
bold  riders  sped  on.  "  The  night  after 
leaving  Gilbert-town,  on  a  short  halt,  in 
council,  the  officers  selected  a  chief  to 
act  until  they  could  receive  orders  from 
Gates.  Their  little  army  was  composed, 
then,  of  men  nearly  in  equal  numbers 
from  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  and  South 
Carolina.  Each  band  was  led,  rather  than 
commanded,  by  its  own  officer.  Sevier, 
Shelby,  Campbell,  Cleveland,  Williams, 
and  M'Dowell,  were  the  colonels,  and  had 
all  seen  hard  service,  either  in  the  Indian 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


(_PART    II. 


wars  or  in  this  struggle.  After  full  delib 
eration,  they  unanimously  elected  Camp 
bell,  of  Virginia,,  to  command  in  the  ap 
proaching  fray.*  He  was  a  man  in  the 
vigor  of  life — not  quite  forty  years  of  age 
—  of  pure  Scotch  descent,  thoroughly  ed 
ucated  in  the  classics  and  all  the  science 
of  the  day,  and  had  been  a  soldier  from 
his  earliest  manhood.  He  had  married 
the  sister  of  the  famous  Patrick  Henry, 
and  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Jeffer- 
,son,  and  had  joined  in  all  the  early  move 
ments  of  resistance.  Having  a  large  fam 
ily  connection  in  western  Virginia,  and 
an  extensive  property,  and  that  region 
being  still  subject  to  imminent  perils  from 
the  Indians  of  Tennessee  and  Kentucky, 
he  declined  commissions  tendered  him  in 
the  continental  army  and  the  Virginia 
lines,  and  accepted  the  honorable,  labori 
ous,  and  dangerous  post  of  county  lieu 
tenant.  In  this  he  succeeded  Evan  Shel 
by,  the  father  of  his  associate  in  this  ex 
pedition.  He  immediately  gave  the  care 
of  his  family  and  property  to  a  kinsman, 
and  devoted  himself  to  the  cause  of  free 
dom. 

"  His  manner  was  grave  and  dignified, 
his  person  strong  and  graceful,  his  cour- 
ao-e  of  the  most  daring  and  reckless  char- 

O  O 

acter,his  patriotism  of  the  sternest  mould, 
enthusiastic  and  uncompromising,  with  a 
fierce  and  relentless  hatred  of  those  who 
refused  to  join  the  patriot  cause,  and  with 
al  a  skilful, judicious,  and  practised  officer. 
He  brought  to  the  expedition  four  hun- 

*  It  is  said  that  Colonel  Williams,  of  South  Carolina,  had 
Governor  Rutledge's  commission  in  his  pocket,  as  a  briga 
dier,  at  this  very  time,  but  that  he  magnanimously  suppressed 
the  fact,  fearing  perhaps  that  its  assertion  might  cause  jeal 
ousies  and  distrust.  —  SIMMS. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]  THE  AMERICANS  OVERTAKE  FERGUSON. 


797 


dred  and  fifty  men  (many  of  them  his 
kinsmen,friends,  and  neighbors),  of  wealth 

and  position  equal  to  his  own ;  and  most 
of  them  of  that  true  Scotch-Irish  breed 
whose  fathers  had  fought  for  kirk  and 
covenant,  and  among  whose  descendants 
were  the  Clays,  Calhouns,Scotts,  and  Tay 
lors,  of  our  day.":I: 

After  a  hurried  council,  at  which  each 
man  sat  holding  his  own  horse,  and  squat 
ting  on  the  ground,  amid  the  pastures  of 
Cowpens,  Colonel  Campbell  ordered  his 
resolute  followers  to  mount.  Off  they 
went  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  with 
their  rifles  under  their  arms,  to  protect 
them  from  the  pelting  rain.  About  day 
light  they  crossed  the  ford  at  Broad  river, 
twelve  miles  from  King's  mountain.  Here 
they  halted  and  killed  two  beeves,  from 
which  they  made  a  hurried  repast,  and, 
again  springing  to  their  saddles,  did  not 
check  a  rein  until  they  arrived 
(at  noon)  within  three  miles  of 
the  enemy.  Halting  for  a  moment,  the 
order  was  given,  and  passed  rapidly  along 
from  man  to  man,  "  Tie  up  overcoats,  pick 
touch-holes,  prime  fresh,  and  be  ready  to 
fight !" 

The  neighboring  farmers,  aroused  from 

O  O  ' 

their  work  by  the  clattering  of  hoofs,  and 
the  noisy  turmoil  of  the  troopers  gather 
ing  among  their  fields,  dropped  the  han 
dles  of  their  ploughs,  and,  unloosing  their 
horses,  came  "riding  bare-back,  with  dan 
gling  trace-chains,"  to  join  their  gallant 
countrymen.  Acquainted  with  every  foot 
of  the  land,  and  with  the  exact  position 
01  the  enemy,  these  fresh  recruits  offered 
their  services  as  guides,  and  now  under- 

*  Preston. 


Get,  7, 


took  to  lead  on  the  resolute  band  to  the 
mountain  where  the  enemy  had  so  defi 
antly  posted  themselves.  Their  command 
er,  Colonel  Ferguson,  was  one  of  the  ablest 
of  the  British  light-infantry  officers.  He 
was  specially  renowned  as  a  leader  of  ri 
flemen,  and  had  himself  made  considera 
ble  improvements  in  the  rifle  and  its  use. 
His  force,  as  we  have  seen,  was  a  mixed 
one,  and  composed  of  British  regulars  and 
loyalists.  "  The  latter,"  says  Simms,  "  it 
was  known,  would  fight  —  they  fought 
with  halters  round  their  necks.  They, 
too,  were  expert  riflemen." 

The  order  of  attack  was  now  hurriedly 
made  by  the  Americans.  Sevier  was  to 
form  the  right,  Cleveland  and  Williams 
together  the  left,  and  Campbell  the  cen 
tre,  with  Shelby  on  his  left.  They  had 
scarcely  mounted,  when  a  captured  mes 
senger  was  brought  in.  A  paper  was 
found  upon  his  person,  which  proved  to 
be  a  despatch  from  Ferguson  to  Cornwal- 
lis.  "  Read  it  aloud  !"  was  the  cry  of  many 
voices,  which  rose  from  those  who  under 
stood  and  affected  no  military  formalities. 
It  was  read  aloud ;  and,  as  they  listened 
to  its  defiant  words — "I  hold  a  position 
on  '  the  King's  mountain]  and  all  the  rebels 
out  of  hell  can  not  drive  me  from  it!"  — 
a  grim  smile  for  a  moment  varied  the  res 
olute  expression  of  their  faces,  but  not  a 
loud  word  was  uttered,  as  they  nervously 
clutched  their  rifles.  With  a  bound  they 
were  off  again,  and  in  twenty  minutes 
were  in  sight  of  the  enemy's  camp. 

Here  the  pursuers  drew  up  along  the 
bank  of  a  little  brook,  and,  dismounting, 
tied  their  horses  to  the  saplings  and  the 
branches  of  the  trees.  Leaving  a  small 


798 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u 


guard  behind  them,  the  Americans  now 
arranged  themselves  in  the  order  agreed 
upon,  and  pushed  on  to  the  attack.  The 
three  divisions  were  about  equal  in  num 
ber,  and  it  was  decided  that  all  should 
scale  the  mountain  at  the  same  moment 
from  the  various  points  of  starting,  and 
strive  to  join  each  other  at  the  British 
encampment  perched  on  the  crest  of  the 
ridge. 

King's  mountain,  one  of  the  spurs  of 
the  Alleghanies,  rises  precipitously  above 
the  neighboring  hills,  from  which  it  is  di 
vided  by  a  deep  valley  and  broken  ra 
vines.  A  narrow  ridge  of  irregular  rock 
forms  its  summit, from  which  rugged  sides 
of  outcropping  slate  and  thick  wood  fall 
steeply  to  the  base.  Colonel  Ferguson 
had  perched  his  camp  upon  the  top,  and 
thence  looked  down  with  defiant  con 
tempt  upon  the  undisciplined  band  which 
was  now  about  to  make  the  attempt  to 
drive  him  from  his  strong  position. 

The  three  divisions  having  taken  their 
respective  positions,  Campbell  gave  the 
signal  for  the  ascent,  and  all  began  simul 
taneously  to  climb  the  mountain.  Cleve 
land,  as  he  led  his  men  to  the  attack  on 
the  left,  addressed  them  in  these  homely 
but  telling  words  :  "  My  brave  fellows,  we 
have  beat  the  tories  already,  and  we  can 
beat  them  again.  They  are  all  cowards. 
If  they  had  the  spirit  of  men,  they  would 
join  with  their  fellow-citizens  in  support 
ing  the  independence  of  their  country. 
When  engaged  with  them,  you  are  not 
to  wait  for  the  word  of  command  from 
me.  I  will  show  you  by  my  example  how 
to  fight.  I  can  undertake  no  more.  Ev 
ery  man  must  consider  himself  as  an  offi 


cer,  and  act  from  his  own  judgment.  Fire 
as  fast  as  you  can,  and  stand  your  ground 
as  long  as  you  can.  When  you  can  do 
no  better,  get  behind  trees,  or  retreat; 
but  I  beg  of  you  not  to  run  quite  off.  If 
we  are  repulsed,  let  us  make  a  point  to 
return  and  renew  the  fight.  Perhaps  we 
may  have  better  luck  in  the  second  at 
tempt  than  the  first.  If  any  of  you  are 
afraid,  such  have  leave  to  retire,  and  they 
are  requested  immediately  to  take  themselves 
off  r  This  was  a  good  speech,  which  his 
men  could  understand,  and  its  effect  was 
such  as  every  commander  must  desire. 

The  action  now  commenced.  As  Colo 
nels  Campbell  and  Shelby,  at  the  head  of 
their  men,  began  to  lead  up  the  centre, 
the  British  fired  a  volley,  but  with  little 
effect,  as  their  shots  were  badly  aimed. 
The  right,  under  Sevier,  now  emerging 
suddenly  into  view  from  a  wooded  hol 
low,  drew  upon  it  the  whole  attention  of 
the  enemy,  and  a  severe  conflict  ensued. 
Ferguson,  however,  finding  his  men  no 
match  for  the  American  riflemen,  ordered 
a  charge  of  bayonets.  This  was  made 
with  the  usual  impetuosity  by  the  British 
regulars,  and  Sevier  was  forced  nearly  to 
the  base  of  the  mountain. 

Williams  and  Cleveland,  with  the  left, 
coming  up  at  this  moment,  began  a  mur 
derous  fire  upon  the  right  ilank  of  the 
enemy,  by  which  they  diverted  them  from 
the  pursuitof  Sevier,and  drew  upon  them 
selves  all  their  fury.  The  charging  col 
umns,  being  recalled,  were  wheeled  rap 
idly  to  the  right,  and,  making  a  dash  at 
Williams's  and  Cleveland's  men,  drove 
them  down  the  declivity  before  them,  as 
they  had  previously  driven  Sevier.  See- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       BATTLE  OF  KING'S  MOUNTAIN.— FERGUSON  SLAIN. 


799 


ing  their  comrades  in  extremity,  Camp 
bell  and  Shelby  pushed  on  nimbly  in 
front,  and  poured  upon  the  British  such 
a  volley,  that  they  were  forced  to  desist 
from  further  pursuit,  and  retire  to  the 
summit  of  the  ridge,  which  they  did,  how 
ever,  in  perfect  order. 

Ferguson  now  gathered  his  whole  force, 
and  bore  down  with  an  impetuous  charge 
directly  upon  the  American  centre.  Be 
fore  this  irresistible  onset,  Campbell  and 
Shelby  gave  way.  In  the  meanwhile, 
however,  Cleveland  and  Sevier,  having 
rallied  their  men,  came  to  the  rescue  with 
a  terrible  fire  on  either  flank  of  the  ene 
my,  and  brought  them  suddenly  to  a  stop. 
The  British  soldiers, with  poised  bayonets, 
hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  retreat 
ed  up  the  hill.  The  centre  of  the  Ameri 
cans  now  rallied,  wheeled,  and  rushed  af 
ter  them  with  shouts  and  huzzas,  thinking 
that  the  battle  was  won. 

The  bold  Ferguson,  however,  was  not 
yet  disposed  to  yield  the  day.  Rapidly 
throwing  his  men  into  three  columns,  one 
facing  each  division  of  his  foe,  he  made  a 
fourth  charge  with  the  bayonet.  But  it 
was  too  late.  The  "  mountain-men"  now 
brought  to  bear  with  effect  the  peculiar 
warfare  in  which  they  had  acquired  skill 
in  their  frequent  conflicts  with  the  wild 
beasts  and  the  Indian  savages  on  the  fron 
tiers.  From  behind  the  rocks  and  trees, 
under  the  cover  of  which  they  loaded 
their  never-missing  rifles,  they  sprang  for 
ward  and  fired  with  such  effect  upon  the 
British,  that  they  drove  them  back  with 
in  their  lines  upon  the  ridge. 

As  the  three  divisions  of  the  mountain 
eers  approached  the  summit  in  pursuit, 


they  closed  together  and  completely  sur 
rounded  their  enemy.  The  British,  thus 
at  bay,  fought  desperately.  The  regulars, 
with  firm  hand,  still  clung  to  their  mus 
kets,  and  strove  to  keep  off  their  pursu 
ers  by  a  vigorous  use  of  their  bayonets  ; 
while  the  tory  volunteers,  with  their  long 
hunting-knives  fastened  in  the  muzzles 
of  their  guns,  showed  in  their  despair  no 
less  fierceness  of  resistance. 

At  every  discharge  of  their  rifles,  how 
ever,  the  Americans  closed  in,  narrowing 
more  and  more  the  fatal  circle  in  which 
they  held  their  doomed  enemy.  "  The 
British  cavalry  was  ordered  to  mount.  It 
was  the  very  thing  for  the  American  rifle, 
as  it  raised  the  mark  clear  above  the  bush 
es  ;  and,  as  each  man  threw  his  leg  over 
the  horse,  he  fell  dead  on  the  other  side. 
Ferguson,  with  a  gallantry  which  seemed 
to  rise  with  his  desperate  condition,  rode 
from  rank  to  rank  and  from  post  to  post, 
cheering,  driving,  and  encouraging  his 
men,  until  he  found  his  army  pressed,  act 
ually  huddled  together,  on  the  ridge,  and 
falling  as  fast  as  the  Americans  could  load 
and  shoot."  Ferguson's  valor  was  una 
vailing,  and  the  success  of  his  bayonets 
gave  him  barren  ground,  which  he  could 
only  for  a  moment  retain.  Still  he  re 
fused  to  surrender.  His  shrill  silver  whis 
tle  was  heard  over  all  the  cries  of  the  con 
flict,  as  he  sped  from  side  to  side. 

"  He  determined  on  one  more  desper 
ate  charge,  and,  taking  his  position  at  the 
head  of  his  cavalry,  in  a  voice  that  rose 
loud  above  the  din  of  the  battle,  he  sum 
moned  his  men  to  '  crush  the  d d  rebels 

into  the  earth !'  "* 

*  Preston. 


800 


BATTLES  OP  AMERICA. 


The  Americans  heard  the  order,  and 
silently  prepared  for  the  conflict.  Each 
man  was  ordered  to  load,  and  not  fire  a 
shot  until  the  foe  was  within  sixty  paces. 
The  command  was  faithfully  obeyed.  The 
enemy  bore  down  from  the  summit  of  the 
ridge  in  one  mass,  with  the  brave  Ferguson 
at  their  head.  Impetuously  and  threaten 
ingly,  however,  as  they  came,  they  were 
soon  stayed  by  the  close  fire  and  sure  aim 
of  the  Americans.  Ferguson  fell  at  the 
first  discharge,  and  his  affrighted  horse 
went  scampering  down  the  hill.  His  sec 
ond  in  command,  Captain  De  Peyster, 
when  he  found  that  his  brave  command 
er  was  no  more,  and  saw  the  fatal  havoc 
made  among  the  troops,  gave  up  all  hope 
of  further  successful  resistance,  hoisted 
the  white  flag  of  surrender,  and  begged 
for  quarter. 

The  battle  began  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  last 
ed  an  hour.  Two  hundred  and  forty  of 
the  enemy  were  killed  and  two  hundred 
wounded  ;  some  seven  or  eight  hundred 
were  taken  prisoners.  Out  of  the  whole 
British  force  but  two  hundred  escaped. 
Of  the  Americans,  only  twenty-eight  were 
killed  and  sixty  wounded.  In  the  Vir 
ginia  division,  out  of  the  thirteen,  no  less 
than  twelve  were  officers  !  Fifteen  hun 
dred  stand  of  arms  were  captured. 

"  In  this  battle,"  says  Preston,  "  the  offi 
cers  not  only  went  before,  but  every  one, 
commander,  colonels,  captains,  all  carried 
and  used  the  rifle  in  addition  to  the  sword. 
It  thus  becomes  known  thart  the  gallant 
Williams,  seeing  Ferguson  cheering  his 
men  with  his  voice  and  famous  silver 
whistle,  drew  up  his  rifle  to  shoot  him ; 


Oct.  7, 


but,  perceiving  that  Ferguson  was  armed 
only  with  sword  and  pistols,  he  threw 
away  his  gun,  exclaiming, '  I  will  have  a 
single  hand-tussle  with  him,  or  die  !'  He 
dashed  at  the  Briton,  but,  before  he  reach 
ed  him,  received  two  balls,  and  was  borne 
from  the  field  by  his  two  sons,  lads  of 
fourteen  and  sixteen.*  Williams  survived 
until  the  next  day,  and  learned  that  the 
victory  was  complete.  He  raised  his  eyes 
to  heaven,  and  said, '  I  thank  God  for  my 
country's  deliverance;'  and  placing  a  hand 
on  the  head  of  each  of  his  children,  he 
said, '  God  bless  you,  my  brave  boys !  tell 
your  mother  and  our  friends  I  die  con 
tent/  Within  a  few  months,  those  two 
noble  youths  were  inhumanly  butchered 
by  the  tories  at  Hay's  station. 

"The  pure  and  brave  Captain  Edmonds- 
ton  fell  in  front  of  his  company,  near  his 
colonel.  The  stern  Campbell  was  seen  to 
brush  away  a  tear  as  that  brave,  good 
friend  was  borne  back.  Edmondston  lay 
under  a  tree,  with  one  hand  clutching  his 
side  to  keep  in  life  until  the  battle  was 
over.  He  heard  the  shout  of  victory,  as 
his  commander  and  friend  grasped  his 
other  hand.  He  could  not  speak  then ; 
he  kissed  Campbell's  hand,  smiled,  loosed 
the  hold  which  stanched  in  life,  and  the 
Christian  and  patriot  went  to  his  reward. 
Four  Edmondstons  fell  in  this  fight,  and, 
with  them,  Craigs  and  Beatties,  Bowens 
and  Willoughbys,  Blackburrfs  and  Craw- 
fords,  Campbells  and  Cummings." 

*  "  The  tradition,"  says  Simms,  "  reports  that  Williams 
and  Ferguson  perished  by  each  other's  hands ;  that,  after 
Ferguson  had  fallen  by  the  pistol  of  Williams,  and  lay 
wounded  on  the  ground,  the  latter  approached  and  offered 
him  mercy ;  and  that  his  answer  was  a  fatal  bullet  from  the 
pi-stol  of  the  dying  man!" 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


VENGEANCE.— GATES  AND  CORXWALLIS. 


801 


The  bloody  conflict  of  King's  mountain 
was  marked  by  a  crowning  sacrifice  of 
vengeance.  Ten  of  the  prisoners — loy 
alists,  conspicuous  for  their  outlawries, 
and  well  known — were  tried,  condemned, 
and  hung,  by  the  conquerors,  almost  in 
the  moment  of  victory.  Thirty  were  con 
demned,  but  twenty  respited.  They  are 
all  alleged  to  have  been  notorious  for 
their  crimes,  the  monstrous  atrocity  of 
which  forbade  the  plea  of  pity  in  the  ears 
of  their  captors.  They  had  long  been 
doomed,  by  a  thousand  threats  of  ven 
geance,  from  as  many  outraged  enemies. 
Something,  too,  is  alleged  in  behalf  of  this 
wild  and  summary  justice,  in  the  right 
and  policy  of  retaliation  for  the  murders 
which  Cornwallis  had  committed  on  his 


captives  at  Camden,  Ninety-six,  and  Au 
gusta.  The  deed  was  supposed  to  be  justi 
fied  by  that  code  which  requires  eye  for 
eye,  tooth  for  tooth,  life  for  life.* 

To  this  day  the  traveller  reads  on  a 
rude  stone  at  the  foot  of  the  scene  of  bat 
tle,  and  near  the  spring  from  which  he 
quenches  his  thirst,  this  inscription  :  "  Sa 
cred  to  the  memory  of  Major  William 
Chronicle,  Captain  John  Mattocks,  Wil 
liam  Robb,  and  John  Boyd,  who  were 
killed  at  this  place  on  the  7th  day  of  Oc 
tober,  1780,  fighting  in  defence  of  Amer 
ica."  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  stone 
is  read  :  "Colonel  Ferguson, an  officer  of 
his  Britannic  majesty,  was  defeated  and 
killed  at  this  place  on  the  7th  day  of  Oc 
tober,  1780." 


CHAPTER   XCIII. 

General  Gates  arid  his  Wretched  Force. — Lord  Cornwallis  discouraged. — Retreat  of  the  British. — Their  Sufferings  and 
Disasters. — The  March  to  Winnsborough. — Illness  of  Cornwallis. — Lord  Rawdon  in  Command. — Tarleton  and  Sum- 
ter. — General  Greene  supersedes  Gates. — An  Affecting  Incident. — Life  and  Character  of  Greene. — His  Age  and  Per 
sonal  Appearance. — His  Manners. — His  Fidelity,  and  Friendship  for  Washington. 


1780, 


GENERAL  GATES,  having  gathered 
the  scattered  remnants  of  his  army 
at  Ilillsborough,  in  North  Carolina,  found 
that  his  whole  continental  force,  exclu 
sive  of  the  militia,  did  not  exceed  fifteen 
hundred  men.  These,  moreover,  were  in 
want  of  almost  every  necessity.  En 
camped  in  the  woods  near  the  town,  the 
soldiers,  in  lieu  of  tents,  built  wigwams 
of  fence-rails,  and  rudely  thatched  them 
with  Indian-corn  sheaves. 
101 


Although  in 


rags,  without  pay,  "  with  only  a  half  ra 
tion,  and  never  with  a  whole  one,"  the 
men  bore  up  with  wonderful  fortitude, 
and  cheerfully  submitted  to  the  severest 
discipline. 

In  the  meantime,  Lord  Cornwallis  had 
pushed  on  as  far  as  Salisbury,  near  the 
borders  of  Virginia ;  and,  in  the  expecta 
tion  of  being  able  to  reach  that  State,  a 
reinforcement  of  troops  intended  for  him 


Kimms. 


802 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[I'AKT   II. 


under  General  Leslie,  was  ordered  to  en 
ter  the  Chesapeake.  After  learning  the 
fatal  result  at  King's  mountain,  however, 
the  earl  was  no  longer  disposed  to  pene 
trate  farther  into  a  country  whence  had 
suddenly  risen  such  a  formidable  band  of 
foes  as  Campbell  had  led  to  victory.  His 
lordship  now  no  longer  thought  of  ex 
tending  his  conquests  northward.  His 
only  care  was  to  secure  those  which  he 
had  already  made.  He  was  determined 
to  retire  to  South  Carolina,  and  there  con 
centrate  his  force,  lest  he  should  be  sur 
rounded  and  cut  off  from  that  province 
by  some  of  the  bold  and  active  "  mount 
ain-men." 

The  retrograde  movement  commenced 
about  the  middle  of  October.  It  was  a 
difficult  and  disastrous  re  treat,  as  the  Brit 
ish  authorities  themselves  acknowledge. 
It  rained  for  several  days  without  inter 
mission,  and  the  roads  were  knee-deep  in 
mud  and  water.  The  men  had  no  tents, 
and  hardly  enough  food  to  support  life. 
At  one  time,  they  had  beef  and  no  bread  ; 
at  another,  bread  and  no  beef.  For  five 
days  their  only  sustenance  was  the  Indian 
corn  which  they  collected  as  it  stood  in 
the  fields.  They  were,  moreover,  greatly 
harassed  by  the  militia  of  the  co nutty, 
who  would  come  upon  them  unawares, 
and  shoot  down  their  guards  and  cut  off 
their  foraging-parties.  Nor  could  the  ut 
most  vigilance  on  the  part  of  the  British 
general  secure  his  troops  against  these 
surprises.  The  militia,  being  mounted, 
and  \\  ell  acquainted  with,  the  country, 
were  here,  there,  and  everywhere.  At 
the  most  unexpected  moment,  a  rifle-shot 
from  some  covert  would  lay  low  a  sentry  ; 


Get,  29, 


and,  before  the  alarm  was  fairly  given, 
the  hidden  marksman  was  again  in  his 
saddle  and  away,  without  fear  of  pursuit 
in  that  wild  country,  where  neither  foot 
nor  horse  soldier  ventured  to  follow.  On 
the  march  from  Charlotte,  single  riflemen 
often  rode  up  within  gunshot  of  the  ene 
my,  singled  out  their  victims,  and,  having 
discharged  their  pieces,  galloped  away  in 
safety. 

After  this  long  and  trying  tramp,  the 
British  army  reached  the  Catawba  river, 
which  they  were  obliged  to  ford  at  a  part 
where  it  was  six  hundred  yards  wide,  and 
in  some  places  as  deep  as  nine  or  ten  feet. 
The  enemy  now  encamped  at 
Winnsborough,  midway  between 
the  Catawba  and  Broad  rivers,  in  Fail-field 
district,  South  Carolina.  Here  Cornwal- 
lis  was  taken  ill  with  a  bilious  fever,  and 
the  command  devolved  upon  the  young 
Lord  Rawdon,  who  remained  inactive, 
however,  until  an  answer  should  be  re 
ceived  from  General  Leslie,  who  had  ar 
rived  in  the  Chesapeake  with  a  force  des 
tined  for  Virginia,  but  which  Cornwallis 
now  wished  to  co-operate  with  him  in  the 
Carolinas.  Leslie  was  therefore  instruct 
ed  to  proceed  by  sea  to  Charleston. 

The  retreat  of  Cornwallis,  following 
thus  closely  upon  Ferguson's  defeat,  and 
the  confession  of  weakness  betrayed  by 
this  retreat,  gave  new  encouragement  to 
the  Americans.  They  everywhere  began 
to  repair  in  considerable  numbers — the 
sparseness  of  population  considered — to 
the  camps  of  their  respective  command 
ers.  Of  these  there  were  large  numbers, 
captains  and  colonels,  in  the  field,  of  whom 
the  historians  say  little ;  and  day  by  clay 


REYOLUTIONARY.]       PARTISAN"  WARFARE.— DEFEAT  OF  WEMYSS. 


803 


they  achieved  successes,  on  a  small  scale, 
of  which  but  little  has  been  reported. 

These  parties,  with  their  leaders,  now 
began  to  acknowledge  and  to  exercise  a 
better  discipline,  and  to  become  more  effi 
cient  as  soldiers.  They  had  suffered  too 
many  disasters  from  the  neglect  of  duty 
by  the  militia  not  to  feel  the  necessity  of 
vigilance,  and  a  better  observance  of  the 
duties  of  the  regular  service.  The  legis 
lature  of  North  Carolina  put  all  the  mili 
tia  of  the  state  under  General  Smallwood, 
of  the  continental  army.  Generals  Sum- 
ner  and  Davidson  had  likewise  large  com 
mands  of  militia,  and  were  good  officers. 
Major  Davie  was  also  an  active  and  effi 
cient  partisan  of  that  state,  as  were  Shel 
by,  Se  vie r,M/Do  well,  and  Lock.  Georgia 
contributed  several  able  officers,  in  Colo 
nels  Clark,  M'Call,  Jackson,  and  Twiggs; 
and  there  was  not  a  precinct  in  South 
Carolina  that  had  not  some  body  of  troops 
in  the  field,  under  a  favorite  leader,  Ham 
mond,  the  Hamptons,  Harden,  Cleveland, 
as  well  as  Marion,  Sumter,  and  Pickens. 

It  was  one  of  the  mistakes  of  the  Brit 
ish  to  suppose  that  the  spirit  of  the  coun 
try,  thus  excited  and  active,  could  be  sub 
dued  by  cruelty  and  terror.  Cornwallis 
issued  his  orders  to  hang,  and  burn,  and 
oppress  the  "  rebels,"  in  every  possible 
way;  and  his  lieutenants,  such  as  Tarle- 
ton,  Wemyss,  and  others,  were  not  unwil 
ling  to  follow  out  his  decrees  to  the  ful 
lest  extent  of  privilege  and  persecution 
which  they  allowed.* 

The  active  British  cavalry-leader,  find 
ing  all  attempts  to  surprise  the  ever-vigi 
lant  Marion  futile,  now  directed  his  eflbrts 

*  Sirnms. 


Aug.  18, 


against  the  audacious  Sumter.  This  gal 
lant  partisan-leader,  after  the  surprise  of 
his  band,  had  soon  collected  an 
other,  composed  of  the  remnant 
of  his  old  corps  and  some  fresh  volunteers 
from  among  the  people  of  York  district, 
a  section  of  the  state  which  had  never 
made  any  concessions  to  the  invaders. 
Though  unsupported  by  any  continental 
force,  Sumter  was  enabled  to  keep  the 
field.  Varying  his  position  about  the  En- 
oree,  Broad,  and  Tiger  rivers,  he  made 
frequent  attacks  upon  the  British.  He 
beat  up  their  quarters,  cut  off  their  con 
voys,  and  kept  them  in  a  constant  state 
of  alarm  and  disquietude.  Having  re 
cruited  his  command  to  an  imposing  force, 
he  advanced  within  twenty-eight  miles 
of  the  British  camp  at  Winnsborough. 

This  audacity  suggested  to  Cornwallis 
a  plan  of  surprising  him  in  his  encamp 
ment.  Such  importance  was  attached  to 
securing  his  individual  person,  that  an 
officer,  with  five  dragoons,  had  it  special 
ly  in  charge  to  force  their  way  to  his  tent 
and  take  him,  dead  or  alive.  "  The  Gamc- 
Coclc"  as  Sumter  was  called  by  the  Caro 
linians,  was,  in  the  language  of  his  lord 
ship,  the  greatest  trouble  which  the  Brit 
ish  had  encountered  in  the  country. 

The  conduct  of  this  enterprise  was  in 
trusted  to  Major  Wemyss,  who,  with  a  con 
siderable  force  of  cavalry  and  infantry, 
approached  the  encampment  of  the  par 
tisan  leader  at  Broad  river  with  equal 
promptitude  and  caution.  Fortunately, 
Sumter  had  given  unusual  strength  to  his 
advanced  guard.  His  force  had  lain  so 
long  in  its  position,  that  he  naturally  ex 
pected  attack.  Colonel  Taylor,  by  whom 


804 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAUT  ii. 


Xov,  12. 


the  advanced  guard  was  commanded,  had 
taken  particular  precautions.  Fires  had 
been  lighted  in  front  of  his  line,  and  his 
men  were  ordered,  in  case  of  alarm,  to 
form  so  far  in  the  rear  of  the  fires  as  to 
be  concealed,  while  the  approaching  ene 
my  would  be  conspicuous  in  their  light. 
The  videttes  and  pickets  did 
their  duty,  and  the  guard  was 
ready  to  receive  the  attack.  A  murder 
ous  discharge  prostrated  twenty-three  of 
the  British  as  they  reached  the  fires.  The 
rest  recoiled,  then  retreated  for  a  hundred 
yards  before  they  rallied.  They  were 
brought  again  steadily  to  the  attack,  and 
a  close  conflict  followed ;  but  the  well- 
directed  fire  of  the  Americans  completed 
what  their  advanced  guard  had  so  well 
be^un.  The  British  were  driven  from  the 

O 

field,  and  found  safety  only  in  the  dark 
ness  of  the  night.  Wemyss  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Americans,  being  wounded 
through  both  thighs,  and  deserted  by  his 
men  in  the  precipitation  of  their  flight. 

After  this  affair,  Sumter  changed  his 
position  ;  and  Tarleton,  having  given  up 
his  vain  pursuit  of  Marion,  now  turned 
in  headlong  chase  after  the  former,  whom 
he  overtook  at  Blackstock's,near 
Tiger  river,  and  had  no  difficulty 
in  bringing  him  to  action.  Blackstock's 
house,  situated  on  the  southwest  bank  of 
the  stream,  consisted  of  a  large  van,  built 
of  logs,  the  apertures  of  which  formed 
capital  loopholes  for  marksmen.  It  af 
forded  a  favorable  position  for  the  em 
ployment  of  a  small  force  in  battle,  and 
Sumter  stationed  his  troops  so  as  to  avail 
himself  of  all  its  advantages.  On  this  oc 
casion,  he  had  with  him  Clarke, 

' 


Kov,  20, 


and  Chandler,  of  Georgia ;  and  Colonels 
Thomas,  Bratton,  and  Majors  M'Call  and 
Samuel  Hammond,  of  South  Carolina,  who 
had  joined  forces  with  his  some  ten  days 
before.  Notdoubting  that  Tarleton's  en 
tire  force  was  upon  him,  he  resolved  to 
maintain  his  ground  during  the  day,  and, 
under  cover  of  the  night,  escape  across 
the  river. 

Tarleton's  command  consisted  of  his  le 
gion,  a  battalion  of  the  seventy-first  regi 
ment,  a  detachment  of  the  sixty-third,  and 
a  lieutenant's  command  of  the  royal  ar 
tillery,  with  one  fieldpiece.  But,  of  this 
force,  only  four  hundred  mounted  men 
had  yet  come  up  with  the  Americans. 

As  soon  as  Sumter  made  this  discovery, 
his  plans  were  changed  ;  and  he  resolved 
to  commence  the  attack,  and  cut  up  his 
enemy  in  detail.  Tarleton,  supposing  that 
he  had  the  game  in  his  own  hands,  had, 
immediately  on  arriving,  secured  an  ele 
vated  piece  of  ground  in  front  of  Sumter's 
position,  and,  dismounting  his  men  to  re 
lieve  themselves  and  horses,  prepared  to 
await  the  arrival  of  his  infantry  and  ar 
tillery. 

But  the  assault  of  Sumter  compelled 
him  to  take  to  his  arms.  The  Americans 
descended  from  their  heights,  and  poured 
in  a  well-directed  fire  upon  the  enemy. 
They  were  met  by  the  bayonet,  and,  be 
ing  armed  only  with  rifles,  were  obliged 
to  retire.  The  British  now  advanced,  but 
were  met  by  a  reserve  of  rifles,  which  pros 
trated  many  and  repulsed  the  rest.  As 
he  beheld  his  danger,  Tarleton  ordered 
a  second  and  desperate  charge,  directly 
up  the  hill ;  but  the  Americans  stood  firm, 
and  received  him  with  their  rifles,  under 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       TAULETOX'S  DEFEAT.— REMOVAL  OF  GATES. 


805 


the  united  fire  of  which  his  men  could  not 
be  made  to  stand.  Drawing  off  his  whole 
force,  he  now  wheeled  upon  Sumter's  left, 
•where  the  ground  was  less  precipitous. 
Tarleton  was  here  met  by  a  little  corps 
of  Georgians,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
in  number,  who  displayed  the  courage  of 
veterans.  Clarke  and  Hammond,  espe 
cially,  distinguished  themselves  in  this 
action.  But  the  pressure  of  the  whole 
British  force  was  too  much  for  them  to 
contend  against.  They  yielded,  after  a 
noble  resistance,  and  gave  way ;  but  the 
timely  interposition  of  the  reserve,  under 
Colonel  Winn,  and  the  fire  of  a  company 
stationed  at  the  house,  determined  the 
issue.  Tarleton  fled,  leaving  nearly  two 
hundred  men  upon  the  field  of  conflict. 
The  loss  of  the  Americans  was  trifling,  but 
their  brave  commander  received  a  severe 
wound  in  the  breast,  which  kept  him  for 
several  months  from  active  service.  On 
being  disabled,  Colonel  Twiggs  succeeded 
to  the  command.* 

Lord  Cornwallis  having  retired  to  the 
south,  General  Gates  moved  his  force  and 
took  post  at  Charlotte,  soon  after  its  evac 
uation  by  the  enemy,  in  the  latter  part 
of  October,  with  the  view  of  making  it 
his  winter-quarters.  While  here,  Gates 
was  overwhelmed  with  misfortune.  First 
came  the  sad  intelligence  of  the  death  of 
his  only  son ;  and  next  followed  a  de 
spatch  informing  him  that  he  had  been 
superseded  in  the  command  of  the  south 
ern  department  by  General  Greene. 

Heavy,  however,  as  were  these  blows, 
General  Gates's  sensibility  was  still  more 
wrought  upon  by  an  affecting  incident 

°  Simms. 


which  we  give  in  the  words  of  an  eye 
witness:  "I  found  him,"  says  the  narra 
tor,  "  traversing  the  apartment  which  he 
occupied,  under  the  influence  of  high  ex 
citement.  His  agitation  was  excessive ; 
every  feature  of  his  countenance,  every 
gesture,  betrayed  it.  Official  despatches, 
informing  him  that  he  was  superseded, 
and  that  the  command  of  the  southern 
army  had  been  transferred  to  General 
Greene,  had  just  been  received  and  pe 
rused  by  him.  His  countenance, however, 
betrayed  no  expression  of  irritation  or  re 
sentment;  it  was  sensibility  alone  that 
caused  his  emotion.  An  open  letter,  which 
he  held  in  his  hand,  was  often  raised  to 
his  lips  and  kissed  with  devotion,  while 
the  exclamation  repeatedly  escaped  them 
— i  Great  man  !'  'Noble,  generous  proce 
dure  !'  When  the  tumult  of  his  mind  had 
subsided,  and  his  thoughts  found  utter 
ance,  he  with  strong  expression  of  feeling 
exclaimed :  '  I  have  received  this  day  a 
communication  from  the  commander-in- 
chief,  which  has  conveyed  more  consola 
tion  to  my  bosom,  more  ineffable  delight 
to  my  heart,  than  I  had  believed  it  pos 
sible  for  it  ever  to  have  felt  again.  With 
affectionate  tenderness  he  sympathizes 
with  me  in  my  domestic  misfortunes,  and 
condoles  with  me  on  the  loss  I  have  sus 
tained  by  the  recent  death  of  an  only  son ; 
and  then,  with  peculiar  delicacy,  lament 
ing  my  misfortune  in  battle,  assures  me 
that  his  confidence  in  my  zeal  and  capa 
city  is  so  little  impaired,  that  the  com 
mand  of  the  right  wing  of  the  army  will 
be  besto\ved  on  me  as  soon  as  I  can  make 
it  convenient  to  join  him.'  "* 

c  Thacher. 


806 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAHT    II. 


Dec,  4, 


General  Greene  now  arrived  at  Char 
lotte,  to  assume  the  command  of 
the  southern  army.  As  we  are 
about  to  narrate  the  history  of  a  cam 
paign  in  which  this  Revolutionary  hero, 
although  heretofore  among  the  most  con 
spicuous  of  Washington's  generals,  won 
his  most  signal  triumphs,  it  seems  appro 
priate  that  we  should  here  briefly  record 
the  early  incidents  of  his  life. 

NATHANIEL  GREENE  was  born  at  Warwick, 
in  Rhode  Island,  May  27,  1742,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Potonhommeth,  where  his 
father,  a  blacksmith  by  trade,  worked  a 
mill  and  forge.  The  elder  Greene  was  a 
rigid  Quaker,  and  frequently  held  forth 
at  the  "  meeting,"  where  he  was  noted  as 
among  the  soundest  and  most  forcible  of 
the  preachers.  The  son  was  brought  up 
in  the  strictest  principles  of  the  sect,  but 
early  exhibited  a  desire  to  give  his  mind 
a  freer  scope  than  was  conformable  with 
the  restricted  views  of  his  somewhat  as 
cetic  father.  With  a  strong  passion  for 
books,  the  young  Greene  was  resolved 
upon  pursuing  a  course  of  more  liberal 
study  than  could  be  taught  by  the  well- 
thumbed  family  bible  and  the  old  homi 
lies  on  the  paternal  book-shelf.  He  re 
ceived  no  encouragement  in  this  pursuit 
from  his  father,  who  looked  suspiciously 
upon  an}' wanderings  in  the  fields  of  "pro 
fane"  literature.  The  youth, however,  suc 
ceeded  by  his  own  efforts  in  buying  books 
and  reading  them,  in  spite  of  the  paternal 
protest.  The  father,  at  last  finding  how 
resolute  his  son  was  in  the  pursuit  of 
learning,  ceased  to  thwart  him,  and  final 
ly  allowed  him  to  provide  himself  with  a 
teacher,  who  was  able  to  impart  to  the 


earnest  student  of  fortune  the  elements 
of  Latin  and  mathematics.  The  black 
smith's  son  at  the  same  time  was  no  less 
busy  at  his  father's  forge  ;  and,  while  his 
mind  was  ripening  with  study,  his  body 
was  daily  growing  in  strength.  The  fa 
ther,  moreover,  finding  thai  the  youth's 
ardor  for  learning  did  not  lessen  his  labor 
or  diminish  its  profits,  ceased  to  oppose, 
though  he  continued  to  regret,  the  world 
ly  tastes  of  his  son. 

The  severity  of  the  Quaker  was,  how 
ever,  too  rigid  to  relax  when  he  found 
that  his  son  was  not  only  devoted  to  "pro 
fane"  studies,  but  was  likewise  given  to 
"  profane"  amusements.  The  youth,  now 
over  eighteen,  was  tempted  by  the  charms 
of  the  gay  daughters  of  the  neighborhood 
to  indulge  in  the  pleasures  of  the  dance. 
But  these  were  only  to  be  enjoyed  secret 
ly  ;  and  the  young  man  would  steal  away 
at  night,  when  the  whole  house  was  quiet 
in  sleep,  and,  after  taking  his  fill  of  the 
forbidden  enjoyment,  return  cautiously 
to  his  bed  again  without  disturbing  the 

o  o 

repose  or  agitating  the  principles  of  the 
slumbering  Quaker.  He  was  not  always, 
however,  equally  lucky. 

There  was  a  great  ball  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  to  which  young  Greene  had  been 
secretly  invited.  In  the  night,  watching 
his  opportunity,  he  made  his  escape  by 
the  usual  window,  and  after  dancing,  the 
gayest  of  the  gay,  until  midnight,  groped 
his  way  homeward.  Arriving  near  the 
house,  his  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  fa 
ther,  standing,  with  a  whip  in  his  hand, 
below  the  window  through  which  alone 
he  could  gain  entrance.  "  There  was  no 
means  of  escaping  him.  The  stern  old 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


NATHANIEL  GREENE. 


807 


Quaker  was  one  of  that  class  of  people 
who  are  apt  to  unite  the  word  and  blow 
together,  the  latter  being  quite  likely  to 
make  itself  felt  before  the  other.  In  this 
emergency,  conscious  that  there  was  no 
remedy  against  or  rescue  from  the  rod, 
young  Greene  promptly  conceived  an 
idea  which  suggests  a  ready  capacity  for 
military  resource.  A  pile  of  shingles  lay 
at  hand  ;  and,  before  he  supposed  his  fa 
ther  to  behold  his  approach,  he  insinuated 
beneath  his  jacket  a  sufficient  number  of 
thin  layers  of  shingle  to  shield  his  back 
and  shoulders  from  the  thong.  With  this 
secret  corslet  he  approached  and  received 
his  punishment  with  the  most  exemplary 
fortitude."* 

Greene,  however,  never  allowed  his 
love  of  pleasure  to  master  his  habits  of 
industry  and  study.  He  pursued  his  busi 
ness  so  steadily,  and  so  much  to  the  sat- 
isfaction  of  his  father,  that  in  his  increas 
ing  prosperity  he  made  him  his  partner, 
and  manager  of  a  new  mill  which  he  erect 
ed  at  Coventry.  The  son,  in  the  mean 
time,  added  to  his  librarv,  and  increased 

•/  / 

his  acquirements.  Young  Greene  soon 
became  a  noticeable  person  from  his  ac 
complishments,  and,  as  he  sympathized 
with  the  popular  sentiment  in  political 
affairs  which  were  at  that  time  agitated 
by  the  quarrels  with  the  mother-country, 
he  soon  became  prominent  as  a  revolu 
tionist.  When,  however,  on  the  prospect 
of  war,  he  began  to  add  the  works  of  mil 
itary  authors  to  his  library,  and  to  carry 
out  their  principles  in  actively  organizing 
the  militia  of  the  neighborhood,  his  peace 
ful  fellow-Quakers  first  rebuked,  and,  at 

°  Life  of  General  Greene,  by  W.  Gilmore  Simms. 


last,  when  they  found  him  pertinacious, 
"read  him  out  of  meeting." 

In  1770,  Greene  was  elected  a  member 
of  the  general  assembly  of  the  colony  of 
Rhode  Island.  In  1774,  he  enrolled  him 
self  in  the  ranks  of  the  "Kentish  Guards;" 
and  in  the  same  year  he  married  Cathe 
rine  Littlefield.  whose  attractions  had  first 
led  him  to  those  forbidden  balls.  After 
the  battle  of  Lexington,  in  April,  1775, 
he  was  raised  to  the  command  of  the  mi 
litia  of  Rhode  Island,  with  the  rank  of 
major-general.  His  subsequent  career,  till 
his  appointment  to  the  head  of  the  south 
ern  armies,  has  been  already  fully  nar 
rated  in  the  course  of  this  history. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Revolutionary 
War,  Greene  was  thirty-three  years  of 
age.  His  personal  appearance  at  this  pe 
riod  was  impressive.  In  height  he  was 
about  five  feet  and  ten  or  eleven  inches. 
His  figure  was  stout  and  muscular.  His 
face,  though  somewhat  disfigured  by  a 
blemish  in  one  of  his  eyes  from  the  effects 
of  small-pox,  was  pleasing  from  the  fresh 
ness  of  its  complexion  and  the  elevation 
of  its  expression.  His  air  was  that  of  a 
calm  and  thoughtful  person,  rather  than 
of  an  impulsive  man  of  action.  He  was, 
however,  elastic  in  his  movements,  though 
his  right  leg  was  slightly  lame  from  the 
effects  of  his  severe  labors  in  early  life. 
His  manners  were  quiet,  but  courteous ; 
and  General  Greene,  notwithstanding  the 
rude  experiences  of  his  youth,  was  notice 
able  as  among  the  most  gentlemanly  as 
well  as  accomplished  of  the  American  of 
ficers.  He  was  greatly  beloved  by  Wash- 
in  o-ton,  and  was  held  in  such  general  es- 

O  /  O 

teem,  that  it  was  common  to  speak  of  him 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


as  th'e  probable  successor  to  the  command- 
er-in-chief,  should  any  misfortune  have  de 
prived  the  country  of  his  great  services. 
Washington  always  relied  upon  him  in 
his  severest  trials.  On  the  discovery  of 
Arnold's  treason  while  the  chief  hardly 


knew  whom  to  trust,  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  confide  the  command  of  West  Point  to 
General  Greene ;  and  again,  when  the 
southern  country  in  its  despair  called  for 
succor,  it  was  Greene  whom  Washington 
sent  to  raise  it  from  its  despondency .* 


CHAPTER   XCIV. 

Interview  between  Generals  Greene  and  Gates.— Generous  Friendship  of  Greene.— Retirement  of  Gates. — Gratitude  ot 
Virginia.— Greene  and  his  Troops. — Good  Feeling  and  Good  Service.  — State  of  the  Country. — Success  of  Morgan.— 
The  Rugelys  surrender. — An  Unlucky  Colonel. — Greene  on  the  Pedee. — Earl  Cornwallis  for  North  Carolina. — Tarle- 
ton  pushing  ahead. — Pursuit  of  Morgan. — Morgan  at  Cowpens. — Tactics.— Disposition  of  Troops. — Morgan  to  his 
Men. — The  Battle.  — American  Victory. — Colonel  Washington. — The  Resolute  Tarleton. — Washington  and  Tarleton. 
— Personal  Conflict. — Losses. — Lord  Cornwallis  on  a  March.— Lightening  the  Troops. — Quick  Pursuit. — Morgan  for 
the  Catawba. 


1789, 


THE  interview  between  Generals 
Greene  and  Gates  at  Charlotte  was 
marked  by  every  manifestation  of  cour 
tesy.     The  former  was  modest  in  assu 
ming,  while  the  latter  was  diinii- 
Uec,  4,    f     °' 

fied  in  resigning,  the  command. 

General  Greene  was  announced  to  the 
army  as  commanding  officer ;  and  on  the 
same  day  the  new  general  addressed  the 
troops,  and  paid  his  predecessor  the  com 
pliment  of  confirming  all  his  standing  or 
ders. 

Directions  had  been  given  that  a  court 
of  inquiry  should  be  instituted  by  Greene 
on  his  arrival,  to  investigate  the  conduct 
of  Gates  at  Camden  ;  but,  as  Baron  Steu- 
ben  had  been  left  in  command  in  Virginia, 
there  was  no  major-general  to  fill  the  va 
cancy  in  the  number  requisite  to  consti 
tute  the  court.  The  investigation  was 
accordingly  postponed  ;  and  Greene,  who 
looked  with  great  indulgence  upon  his  un- 


Dcc.  5. 


fortunate  predecessor,  pleaded  his  cause 
so  successfully,  that  Congress  was  finally 
induced  to  rescind  its  resolution,  and  to 
restore  Gates  to  his  old  command  in  the 
northern  army.  The  unhappy  general, 
subdued  by  private  griefs  and  public  mis 
fortune,  started  on  his  way  to  the 
North  the  day  after  Greene's  ar 
rival  at  Charlotte,  and  in  the  meanwhile 
retired  to  his  "Traveller's  Rest"  as  his  es 
tate  was  called,  in  Virginia.  The  general 
assembly  of  his  adopted  state  generously 
consoled  the  feelings  of  the  fallen  officer 
by  appointing  a  committee  to  wait  upon 
him,  and  assure  him  of  the  high  regard 
and  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by  its 
members,  and  that  their  remembrance  of 
his  former  glorious  services  was  never  to 
be  obliterated  by  any  reverse  of  fortune 

°  At  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  General  Greene  returned 
to  Rhode  Island.  In  1785,  he  removed  with  his  family  to 
Georgia,  where  he  died  suddenly  in  June  of  the  following 
year,  in  the  forty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        ARRIVAL  OF  GREENE.— RETIREMENT  OF  GATES. 


809 


Ever  mindful  of  his  great  merit,  they  de 
clared  that  they  would  omit  no  opportu 
nity  of  testifying  to  the  world  the  grati 
tude  which  Virginia,  as  a  member  of  the 
American  Union,  owed  to  him  in  his  mili 
tary  character.* 

*  In  the  neighborhood  of  Leetown,  in  Jefferson  (formerly 
Berkeley)  county.  Virginia — not  far  beyond  the  Blue  Ridge 
and  the  Shenandoah,  but  nearer  still  to  theOpequan,  anoth 
er  stream  which  has  had  the  good  fortune  to  retain  its  musi 
cal  Indian  name — are  the  ancient  and  dilapidated  residences 
of  three  distinguished  generals  of  the  Revolution.  Here, 
within  a  radius  of  a  mile  or  two,  lived,  long  and  weary  years, 
CHARLES  LEE,  the  sinister  hero  of  Monrnouth  ;  HOHATIO 
GATES,  loser  of  the  battle  of  Camden,  and  of  the  southern 
campaign  :  ADAM  STEPHEN,  the  early  friend  of  Washington, 
but  whose  irregular  habits  induced  Congress  to  remove  him 
from  his  command  of  a  division  and  to  bestow  it  upon  the 
marquis  Lafayette  ;  and  WILLIAM  DAKKE,  a  hero  of  the 
frontier,  and  the  victor  in  a  hundred  personal  combats  with 
the  savages.  In  this  little  valley,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
great  forests,  remote  from  camps  and  the  flashing  world, 
whose  light  and  noise  never  penetrated  the  remote  depths  of 
their  retirement,  these  first-named  warriors  rusted  out  long 
years  of  vigorous  manhood  in  inglorious  repose,  their  swords 
in  moth-eaten  scabbards,  their  hearts  in  the  great  struggle 
which  approached  its  termination,  but  their  bodies  far  away 
from  it.  The  eccentric  career  and  death  of  General  Lee 
have  already  been  detailed. 

Somewhat  removed  from  the  county  road,  and  between 
the  little  villages  of  Kerneysville  and  Leetown,  stood,  and 
still  stands,  the  house  of  "  Traveller's  Rest,"  to  which  Gates 
retired  after  the  disastrous  day  of  Camden.  The  only  pecu 
liarity  perhaps  worth  noting  in  the  dwelling,  is  the  appear 
ance  of  one  of  the  apartments.  It  is  a  large  room  in  one 
wing  of  the  house,  with  three  windows,  singularly  arranged. 
The  origin  of  so  eccentric  an  arrangement  was,  that  some  of 
General  Gates's  family  in  England  sent  him,  while  the  man 
sion  was  in  process  of  construction,  three  large  damask  cur 
tains,  of  resplendent  color — then  a  great  luxury.  The  win 
dows  of  the  great  dining-room  were  made  to  fit  these  cur 
tains,  and  they  duly  took  their  place.  The  house  is  going 
to  ruin.  This  banqueting-room  was  lately  used  as  a  corn- 
crib  by  the  owner  of  the  estate.  Alas  for  human  pride,  and 
the  glory  of  the  world  which  passes  away ! 

Gates  went  to  Mount  Vernon  to  see  Washington  imme 
diately  upon  his  arrival  from  England  ;  and  here  he  met 
with  Lee,  an  old  friend  and  companion  in-arms.  As  yet  the 
three  men  thus  assembled  were  as  brothers,  consulting  upon 
the  safety  of  the  republic.  But  when  the  Revolution  broke 
out.  and  Washington  was  made  its  chief,  both  Lee  and  Gates 
had  their  partisans,  who  advocated  a  change  of  leadership, 
the  deposition  of  Washington,  and  the  substitution  of  one  or 
the  other  of  the  successful  Englishmen.  Gates  was  known 
102 


Dec.  10, 


General  Greene  found  himself  in  com 
mand  of  the  mere  shadow  of  an  army. 
He  brought  with  him  no  troops,  and  but 
a  single  aid-de-camp.  The  returns  of  the 
whole  force,  made  six  days  after 
he  joined  the  army  at  Charlotte, 
gave  but  nine  hundred  and  seventy  con 
tinentals  and  eleven  hundred  and  thirteen 
militia.  The  soldiers,  moreover,  were  des 
titute  of  pay,  tents,  or  blankets,  only  half 
clothed,  and  were  but  scantily  supplied 
with  food  and  ammunition.  Greene  felt 
the  difficulties  of  his  position.  "  Good 
feeding,"  he  says,  "  is  the  first  principle 
of  good  service.  It  is  impossible  to  pre 
serve  discipline  where  troops  are  in  want 
of  everything ;  to  attempt  severity  will 

to  desire  it,  and  to  work  for  the  result.  His  attempt  to  cor 
rupt  the  inflexible  Morgan  is  well  known,  and  the  great  sol 
dier's  noble  reply:  "I  have  one  favor  to  ask  of  you,  which  is, 
never  to  mention  that  detestable  subject  to  me  again  ;  for 
under  no  other  man  than  Washington,  as  commander-in- 
chief,  will  I  ever  serve  !" 

The  battle  of  Camden  came;  and  Gates,  the  conqueror  of 
Burgoyne,  the  rival  of  Washington,  came  here  to  this  house 
of  the  "Traveller's  Rest' '  unattended  and  alone.  Alas,  how 
fallen  from  his  high  estate!  So  ended  the  military  career  of 
this  man  (who  had  shone  as  the  king  of  the  camp)  as  the  ca 
reer  of  Lee  had  ended.  Gates  did  not  die  as  unhappily  as 
his  old  companion,  however.  He  removed,  finally,  to  New 
York  ;  served  in  the  legislature  there  in  1800;  and  died  in 
April,  1806  (in  the  seventy-eighth  year  of  his  age),  in  his 
house  on  Rose  hill,  near  what  is  now  the  corner  of  Twenty- 
third  street  and  Second  avenue.  Washington  had  been  dead 
for  nearly  seven  years,  but  "still  lived"  a  more  enduring  life 
than  before.  But  Gates  had  died  nearly  a  generation  before, 
on  the  day  of  Camden  ! 

Gates  always  preserved  a  bland  and  courteous  carriage, 
with  no  little  dignity  of  tone  and  address,  as  may  be  seen  in 
his  correspondence,  even  when  laboring  under  the  severest 
public  odium.  Personally,  the  contrast  with  his  friend  Lee 
was  very  striking.  The  former  was  tall,  thin,  rude  in  his 
manners,  and  slovenly  in  his  apparel.  Gates  was  full-faced, 
with  a  florid  complexion,  and  inclined  to  corpulency.  His 
manners  were  those  of  a  courtier — insinuating,  mild,  and 
specious,  producing  in  all  the  impression  that  he  was  famil 
iar  with  "public  offices  and  ante-chambers,"  and  that  he 
would  flatter  and  wheedle  gentleman  or  commoner  to  gain 
his  ends. — Harper  $  Magazine,  September,  1858. 


810 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


only  thin  the  ranks  by  a  more  hasty  de 
sertion." 

The  southern  country,  too,  with  its  ex 
tensive  territory,  its  feeble  administration 
of  government,  and  its  dissensions,  was  in 

o 

a  condition  unfavorable  for  a  campaign. 
The  whigs  and  tories  were  pursuing  each 
other  with  the  most  barbarous  rage  ;  and 
the  interior  was  so  disaffected,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  send  out  a  wagon  with  the 
smallest  load  of  stores  without  a  guard. 
The  very  face  of  the  country,  seamed  with 
deep  rivers  and  impassable  creeks,  and 
with  morasses,  rendered  every  military 
manoeuvre  liable  to  the  most  fatal  chances. 
Greene,  however,  who  was  "  capable  of 
doing  much  with  little,"  met  every  diffi 
culty  with  a  manly  resistance,  and  by  his 
energetic  perseverance  effected  such  a  tri 
umph  over  natural  and  artificial  obstacles 
as  secured  him  final  success. 

The  British  regular  army  at  this  time, 
in  South  Carolina,  numbered  five  thou 
sand  men,  exclusive  of  loyalists,  and  were 
so  stationed  as  to  cover  the  most  impor 
tant  precincts  in  the  state.  They  were 
thus  enabled  to  overawe  the  populous  set 
tlements.  The  garrison  atWinnsborough 
(which  was  now  the  headquarters  of  Earl 
Cornwallis)  completed  a  chain  of  posts 
which  the  enemy  had  established,  from 
Georgetown  to  Augusta,  in  a  circle,  the 
centre  of  which,  equidistant  from  Charles 
ton  and  Savannah,  would  have  been  Beau 
fort,  in  South  Carolina.  These  posts  con 
sisted  of  Georgetown,  Camden,  Winnsbor- 
ough,  Ninety-six,  and  Augusta.  Within 
this  circle  was  another  chain  of  posts,  con 
sisting  of  Fort  Watson,  on  the  road  to 
Camden ;  Motte's  house  ;  and  Granby,  on 


the  Congaree.  Dorchester,  Orangeburg, 
Monk's  Corner,  and  other  places,  were  for 
tified  as  posts  of  rest,  deposite,  and  com 
munication.  These  stations  were  all  ju 
diciously  chosen,  as  well  for  procuring 
subsistence  as  for  covering  the  country. 

At  this  period  there  were  three  distinct 
commands  of  the  South-Carolina  militia: 
Marion,  in  the  low  country;  Sumter,  in 
the  middle  ;  Williams,  in  the  upper;  and, 
after  his  death,  Pickens,  assisted  or  sec 
onded  by  Colonels  Clarke  and  Twiggs,  of 
Georgia.* 

While  General  Gates  was  still  in  com 
mand  of  the  remnant  of  the  defeated  ar 
my  at  Hillsborough,  in  North  Carolina,  he 
had  detached  Brigadier-General  Morgan, 
early  in  October,  with  three  hundred  Del 
aware  and  Maryland  continental  troops, 
and  some  eighty  dragoons,  under  Colonel 
William  Washington,  to  assist  the  patriots 
in  the  counties  of  Mecklenburg  and  Row 
an.  Passing  over  the  border  into  South 
Carolina,  this  force  now  occupied  the  very 
ground  which  had  witnessed  the  defeat 
of  Gates. 

On  the  very  day  of  Greene's  arrival  at 
Charlotte,  General  Morgan,  who  had  been 
sent  into  the  country  toward  Camden  on 
a  foraging-excursion,  returned  with  no 
cattle  or  grain,  it  is  true,  but  with  the  re 
port  of  a  small  triumph  over  the  enemy, 
which  was  hailed  by  the  troops  as  a  hap 
py  omen  of  prosperity  under  their  new 
leader.  A  Mr.  Hugely,  proprietor  of  the 
estate  of  Clermont,  near  Camden,  and  a 
devoted  loyalist,  had  been  raised  to  the 
rank  of  lieutenant-colonel  of  militia,  and 
his  son-in-law  to  that  of  major,  in  the  ene- 

*  Simms. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        HUGELY  CAPTURED.— MOVEMENT  OF  GREENE. 


811 


my's  service.  Fortifying  a  large  log-barn 
with  intrenchrnents  and  abattis,  the  Ruge- 
lys  garrisoned  it  with  about  a  hundred 
troops,  regulars  and  volunteers.  Morgan, 
on  his  return  from  his  unsuccessful  fora- 
ging-expedition,  ordered  Colonel  Wash 
ington  with  his  troop  of  cavalry  to  go  and 
reconnoitre  the  post.  The  colonel,  find 
ing  on  his  approach  that  the  garrison  was 
evidently  in  a  state  of  alarm,  determined 
to  profit  by  it.  Being  without  artillery, 
and  as  it  was  useless  to  attempt  to  carry 
the  stockade  by  a  cavalry-charge,  Wash 
ington  resorted  to  a  stratagem,  in  the  ab 
sence  of  the  proper  materials  of  war.  He 
accordingly  dismounted  his  men,  in  order 
that  they  might  appear  as  infantry.  A 
pine-log,  ingeniously  hewn  so  as  to  resem 
ble  a  fieldpiece,  and  mounted  upon  a  pair 
of  wagon-wheuls,  was  brought  up  with 
due  formalities  and  pointed  tow 
ard  the  fort.  This  innocent  piece 
of  timber,  thus  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
eyes  of  the  garrison,  if  not  upon  its  works, 
was  invested  by  the  militiamen  with  such 
formidable  power,  that  when  a  corporal  of 
dragoons  was  sent  to  summon  the  Rui>-e- 

o  o 

lys  to  surrender,  they  were  exceedingly 
glad  to  find  a  prompt  acceptance  of  their 
submission.  They  did  not  hesitate  a  mo 
ment  in  complying,  and  the  whole  garri 
son  marched  out  prisoners-of-war.  But 
the  surrender  was  fatal  to  Colonel  Ruge- 
ly,  as  a  hero  and  military  man.  His  hope 
of  promotion  was  for  ever  cut  off  by  his 
too  ready  recognition  of  this  new  instru 
ment  of  warfare.  "Rugely  will  not  be 
made  a  brigadier-general,"  was  the  signifi 
cant  comment  of  Lord  Cornwallis  when 
he  was  informed  of  this  ludicrous  event. 


Dec,  4, 


The  unlucky  colonel  did  not  again  appear 
in  arms.* 

General  Greene  now  moved  his  army 
from  Charlotte.  The  division  under  the 
command  of  Brigadier-General  Morgan, 
and  composed  of  four  hundred  continen 
tal  infantry,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Howard,  of  the  Maryland  line,  two  com 
panies  of  Virginia  militia,  under  Captains 
Triplett  and  Tait,  and  a  troop  of  a  hun 
dred  dragoons,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Washington,  numbering  in  all  about  one 
thousand  men,  was  ordered  to  pass  the 
Catawba.  Morgan  was  directed  to  add 
to  his  ranks  from  the  militia  on  his  route, 
and  take  post  near  the  junction  of  Broad 
and  Pacolet  rivers,  toward  the  station  of 
Ninety-six,  in  Union  District,  South  Caro 
lina,  and  some  fifty  miles  to  the  left  of 
Lord  Cornwallis,  at  Winnsborough. 

The  general-iii-chief  marched  the  main 
body  down  the  Pedee,  and  encamped  on 
its  eastern  bank,  at  the  junction  of  Hick's 
creek,  nearly  opposite  to  Cheraw  hill,  and 
about  seventy  miles  to  the  right  of  Corn 
wallis.  "I  am  here,"  wrote  Greene,  "in 
my  camp  of  repose,  improving 
the  discipline  and  spirits  of  my 
men,  and  the  opportunity  for  looking 
about  me.  I  am  well  satisfied  with  this 
movement,  for  it  has  answered  thus  far 
all  the  purposes  for  which  I  intended  it. 
It  makes  the  most  of  my  inferior  force,  for 
it  compels  my  adversary  to  divide  his,  and 
holds  him  in  doubt  as  to  his  own  line  of 
conduct.  He  can  not  leave  Morgan  be 
hind  him  to  come  at  me,  or  his  posts  OA 
Ninety-six  and  Augusta  would  be  exposed. 
And  he  can  not  chase  Morgan  far,  or  pros- 

*  Irving. 


Dec.  26. 


812 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAUT  II. 


ecute  his  views  upon  Virginia,  while  I  am 
here,  with  the  whole  country  open  before 


Greene  had  now  stationed  himself  in 
a  fertile  region  near  the  head  of  boat-nav 
igation  on  the  Pedee,  which  had  not  yet 
been  traversed  by  an  army  of  any  mag 
nitude.  From  this  point  he  despatched 
his  engineers  to  explore  the  country.  The 
routes  in  all  directions  were  carefully  set 
down;  and,  with  Governor  Rutledge,  of 
South  Carolina,  in  his  camp,  he  was  not 
suffered  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  any 
matters  which  he  deemed  essential  to  his 
contemplated  invasion  of  the  state. 

While  Generals  Gates  and  Greene  had 
been  busy  in  the  accumulation  of  an  army, 
it  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  little 
bands  under  Marion  and  other  partisan 
commanders  had  been  inactive.  Marion, 
whose  mode  of  warfare  had  acquired  for 
him  the nom de guerre  o('"T/ie  Swamp-Fox" 
was  never  inactive.  "  Hundreds  of  little 
successes,"  says  Simms, "  that  do  not  prop 
erly  belong  to  the  main  stream  of  regular 
history,yet  concurred  to  render  his  career 
memorable,  and  to  influence  equally  the 
hopes  of  his  countrymen  and  the  hostility 
of  the  enemy.  His  command  was  a  pe 
culiar  one,  being  chiefly  formed  from  the 
little  and  insulated  section  of  country  in 
which  he  lived.  His  warriors  were  his 
neighbors  and  friends,  and  the  tie  that 
bound  them  together  brought,  into  equal 
activity  the  duty  of  the  soldier  and  the 
affections  of  the  comrade.  *  Marion's  bri 
gade'  was  the  extra-military  epithet  which 
distinguished  his  command.  It  might  con 
sist  of  live  or  five  hundred  —  it  was  still 
'Marion's  brigade' — a  membership  in 


which  had  a  sort  of  Masonic  value  in  the 
estimation  of  his  followers,  which  amply 
compensated  for  all  its  privations  and  fa 
tigues.  Constantly  active,  it  would  be  im 
possible  for  the  pen  of  the  historian  to  fol 
low  the  progress  of  the  little  corps." 

After  surprising  Major  Gainey  and  his 
large  band  of  tories  which  he  had  collect 
ed  between  the  Great  and  Little  Pedee, 
Marion  defeated  a  second  party  of  tories 
at  Shepherd's  ferry,  near  Black  Mingo 
swamp.  The  loyalists  were  well  posted 
to  receive  the  attack,  and  a  desperate  con 
flict  ensued.  The  parties  were  so  near 
each  other,  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
fight,  that  the  wadding  of  their  guns  con 
tinually  struck  on  each  side.  Neither 
party  had  bayonets,  and  buckshot  was 
quite  as  frequently  used  as  ball. 

This  victory  increased  the  "  brigade" 
to  nearly  four  hundred  men,  with  which 
Marion  inarched  upon  Colonel  Tynes,  who 
had  raised  a  large  force  of  loyalists  upon 
Black  river.  Tynes  was  surprised,  several 
of  his  men  slain,  and  his  force  dispersed, 
while  Marion  lost  not  a  man.  In  all  these 
inarches  and  conflicts,  the  partisans  lived 
entirely  in  the  swamps,  with  no  shelter 
but  the  forest,  almost  without  blankets  or 
clothing,  commonly  with  no  food  but  po 
tatoes,  and  meat  without  salt.  Marion 
himself,  for  a  long  time,  had  neither  hat 
nor  blanket ! 

The  arrival  of  General  Greene  abridged 
the  independence  of  Marion's  movements. 
His  brigade  constituted  a  portion  of  the 
men  of  the  state,  and  was  necessarily  com 
prised  within  the  command  of  that  officer. 
The  activity,  courage,  and  successful  con 
duct  of  Marion,  indicated  him  to  Greene 


REVOLUTIONARY.]     THE  BRITISH  OFFICER  DIXIXG  WITH  MARION. 


813 


Jan,  25, 


as  one  well  calculated,  by  his  knowledge 
of  the  country,  for  active  employment; 
and  Colonel  Henry  Lee  being  joined  to 
his  "brigade,"  a  combined  attempt  was 
made  to  surprise  the  strong  British  post 
at  Georgetown,  on  Winyaw  bay,  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  supplies.  This  was 
a  more  serious  business  than  Marion  had 
yet  undertaken.  The  town  was  entered, 
and  many  wrere  killed  and  taken  ;  but  the 
garrison  was  on  the  alert,  and,  after  a  se 
vere  skirmish  with  a  large  party  of  Brit 
ish  and  tories  near  the  town,  he  was  re 
pulsed  with  loss.  The  failure  of  the  as 
sailants  is  ascribed  to  various  causes ;  but 
the  alarm  of  the  guides,  who  missed  their 
way,  and  thus  defeated  the  plan 
of  co-operation  between  the  sev 
eral  parties,  is  a  sufficient  reason.  With 
this  affair,  General  Greene  opened  the 
campaign  of  1781. 

This  failure,  however,  was  more  than 
compensated  by  a  brilliant  event  which 
happened  a  few  days  before  in  the  west 
ern  extremity  of  the  state,  to  which  Gen 
eral  Greene  had  detached  Morgan  with  a 
strong  force,  in  order  to  restrain  the  bru 
tal  passions  of  the  loyalists  in  that  quar 
ter.  Shortly  after  his  arrival, Morgan  sent 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Washington,  with  a 
regiment  of  foot  and  two  hundred  horse, 
to  attack  a  body  of  tories  who  had  been 
plundering  the  whig  inhabitants.  Wash 
ington  came  up  with  them  near  Ham 
mond's  store,  charged  them  vigorously, 
and  defeated  them.  General  Cunning 
ham,  with  a  detachment  of  one  hundred 
and  fiftj  British  militia,  was  also  dispersed 
by  a  party  of  Americans  under  Cornet 
Simons,  of  Washington's  command. 


After  the  repulse  of  Marion  at  George 
town,  he  marched  up  the  country  to  the 
confluence  of  Lynch's  creek  and  the  Pe- 
dee,  and  formed  a  stationary  camp  upon 
Snow's  island,  which  consisted  chiefly  of 
high-river  swamp,  dry,  and  covered  with 
a  heavy  forest  abounding  in  game.  He 
fortified  it  as  well  as  his  means  would  al 
low  ;  and  from  that  almost  inaccessible  re 
treat  he  led  and  sent  out  detachments,  as 
circumstances  required,  for  many  weeks, 
which  accomplished  wonderful  results  in 
harassing  the  superior  foe,  cutting  off  his 
convoys,  or  breaking  up,  before  they  could 
well  embody,  the  gathering  and  undisci 
plined  loyalists.  It  was  while  encamped 
upon  this  island,  toward  the  close  of  1780, 
that  an  event  occurred  which,  insignificant 
in  itself,  is  peculiarly  illustrative  of  the 
heroism  displayed  by  the  Americans  at 
that  period,  under  the  greatest  privations. 
A  young  British  officer  was  sent  from  the 
post  at  Georgetown  to  Marion's  swamp- 
camp,  to  effect  an  exchange  of  prisoners. 
He  had  never  seen  Marion, and  was  great 
ly  astonished  at  finding  such  a  noted  man 
so  diminutive  in  size,  especially  when  com 
pared  with  the  British  generals  then  in 
the  field,  whose  average  weight,  it  is  said, 
exceeded  two  hundred  pounds.  Having 
finished  their  business,  the  young  officer 
prepared  to  depart,  but  was  invited  by 
Marion  to  stop  and  dine.  The  invitation 
was  accepted,  and  the  entertainment  was 
served  up  on  pieces  of  bark.  It  consisted 
entirely  of  roasted  potatoes,  of  which  the 
general  ate  heartily,  and  requested  his 
guest  to  do  the  same,  adding, "Hunger  is 
the  best  sauce." — "But  surely,  general," 
said  the  astonished  Briton, "  this  can  not 


814 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


Dec,  13, 


be  your  ordinary  fare  ?" — "Indeed,  sir,  it 
is,"  replied  Marion,"  and  we  are  fortunate 
on  this  occasion,  entertaining  company,  to 
have  more  than  our  usual  allowance."  It 
is  said  that  the  young  officer, on  returning 
to  his  post,  threw  up  his  commission,  de 
claring  that  men  who  could  contentedly 
endure  such  privations  were  not  to  be 
subdued.* 

In  accordance  with  the  orders  of  Lord 
Corn wallis,  Major-General  Leslie  gave  up 
his  expedition  to  Virginia,  and 
proceeded  to  Charleston,  whence 
he  marched  with  fifteen  hundred  of  his 
three  thousand  troops  to  reinforce  the 
main  army  of  the  British  at  Winnsbor- 
ou<:''h.  While  waiting  for  this  accession 

o  o 

to  his  force,  the  earl  determined  to  clear 
the  way  for  his  intended  invasion  of  North 
Carolina.  It  would  not  do  to  leave  Mor 
gan  in  his  rear,  who  was  now  only  fifty 
miles  from  him,  and  threatening  the  post 
of  Ninety-Six.  He  therefore  ordered  his 
faithful  Tarleton  to  proceed  with  eleven 
hundred  men — five  hundred  of  whom 
were  the  formidable  legion  which 
had  been  carrying  terror  and  con 
quest  through  every  quarter  of  the  state 
for  so  long  a  time,  and  the  remainder  in 
fantry,  supported  by  some  fieldpieces — 
and  push  the  daring  Morgan  "to  the  ut 
most."  That  there  should  be  no  chance 
for  the  escape  of  his  prey,  who  lay  on  the 
west  side  of  Broad  river,  it  was  concerted 
that  the  earl  himself,  with  his  main  body, 
should  move  deliberately  northward  as 
far  as  King's  mountain,  that  Morgan's  re 
treat  might  be  cut  off,  and  he  compelled 
to  fight.  ThatMorgan  himself  should  de- 

c  Life  of  General  Marion,  by  W.  Gilmore  Simms. 


1781, 


sire  to  encounter  either  of  them,  the  Brit 
ish  commanders  do  not  for  a  moment  ap 
pear  to  have  suspected. 

Tarleton  was  not  the  man  to  linger, 
and  was  at  once  in  his  saddle,  in  eager 

pursuit  of  his  foe.     The   brave 

n   Jan,  11. 

old  Morgan, "always  accustomed 

to  fight  and  conquer,"  instead  of  wishing 
to  avoid,  was  no  less  desirous  of  a  collis 
ion  than  the  redoubtable  British  dragoon. 
He  would  have  stood  his  ground  arid  of 
fered  him  immediate  battle  ;  but  finding 
that  Cornwallis,  simultaneously  with  the 
advance  of  Tarleton,  had  moved  forward, 
ready  to  co-operate,  and  fearful  lest  he 
might  be  surrounded  by  an  overwhelm 
ing:  force,  Morgan,  though  at  first  inclined 

O  D         '  O 

to  dispute  the  passage  of  the  Pacolet  (a 
small  river,  which  is  ford  able  in  many 
places),  found  it  advisable  to  cross  that 
stream,  and  retire  toward  Broad  river. 

After  a  severe  inarch  of  several  days 
through  a  wild  and  rugged  country,  the 
British  commander  came  upon  the  traces 
of  his  enemy,  and  passed  through  the  de 
serted  American  camp,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Pacolet,  which,  with  its  fires 
still  burning,  and  the  half-cooked 
provisions  scattered  about,  showed  that 
Morgan  had  but  just  left.  Having  cap 
tured  two  of  the  videttes,  Tarleton  learn 
ed  that  his  antagonist  had  halted  at  a 
place  among  the  Thicketty  mountains, 
in  Spartanburg  district,  called  the  Cow- 
pens,  not  far  in  front  of  him,  and  about 
six  miles  from  Broad  river;  and  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  without  taking  a  mo 
ment's  rest,  and  leaving  his  baggage  be 
hind,  he  hurried  on  to  overtake  him.  The 
zealous  British  dragoon  hoped  to  catch 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  COWPENS. 


815 


his  foe  off  his  guard,  and  in  the  midst  of 
a  con  fuse;  1  flight. 

Morgan,  however,  was  determined  to 
stand  his  ground,  and  had  no  thoughts  of 
further  retreat.  His  officers  entreated 
him  to  cross  Broad  river ;  but  he  was  not 
to  be  moved  from  his  position  on  the 
heights  of  Cowpens,  an  eminence  which 
ascended  gently  for  about  three  hundred 
and  fifty  yards.  It  is  true  that  the  open 
woods  which  covered  this  eminence  af 
forded  a  good  field  for  the  action  of  cav 
alry,  of  which  he  knew  his  enemy  had 
much  the  greater  strength.  His  flanks, 
moreover,  were  unprotected ;  and  Broad 
river,  flowing  parallel  to  his  rear,  cut  off 
all  chances  of  retreat.  He  was,  however, 
resolved  that  his  men  should  fight;  and, 
with  the  invincible  Morgan,  to  fight  was 
to  conquer.  He  characteristically  justi 
fied  his  position  against  all  the  arguments 
of  the  tacticians,  by  declaring  that,  if  he 
crossed  the  river,  one  half  of  the  militia 
would  abandon  him.  The  old  rifleman, 
in  his  rough  way,  thus  vindicated  his  judg 
ment  in  after-years :  "  I  would  not  have 
had  a  swamp  in  view  of  my  militia  on  any 
consideration  ;  they  would  have  made  for 
it,  and  nothing  could  have  detained  them 
from  it.  As  to  covering  my  wings,  I  knew 
my  adversary,  and  was  perfectly  sure  I 
should  have  nothing  but  downright  fight 
ing.  As  to  retreat,  it  was  the  very  thing 
I  wished  to  cut  off  all  hope  of.  I  ivould 
have  ilianlicd  Tarlcton  had  he  surrounded  me 
ivith  his  cavalry.  It  would  have  been  bet 
ter  than  placing  my  own  men  in  the  rear 
to  shoot  down  those  who  broke  from  the 
ranks.  When  men  are  forced  to  fight, 
they  will  sell  their  lives  dearly ;  and  I 


knew  that  the  dread  of  Tarleton's  caval 
ry  would  give  due  weight  to  the  protec 
tion  of  my  bayonets,  and  keep  my  troops 
from  breaking,  as  Buford's  regiment  did." 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  different 
opinions  in  regard  to  Morgan's  choice  of 
ground,  all  agreed  that  the  disposition  of 
his  troops  was  masterly.  At  daybreak, 

finding  his  enemy  at  hand,  the 

J  *i  n   1 7 

American  commander  formed  his 

men  in  order  of  battle.  He  advanced  two 
parties  of  picked  riflemen  —  three  hun 
dred  in  all  —  under  Colonel  Cunningham 
of  Georgia  and  Major  M'Dowell  of  South 
Carolina,  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
in  front  of  the  heights.  Scattered  loosely 
along  the  whole  line,  they  had  orders 
to  feel  the  enemy  as  they  approached, 
and,  while  keeping  up  a  desultory  but 
well-aimed  fire,  to  retire  to  the  front  line, 
composed  of  the  main  body  of  the  militia, 
led  by  the  brave  partisan,  Colonel  Pick- 
ens,  who,  with  his  force  of  three  hundred 
practised  riflemen,  had  joined  Morgan 
on  his  march.  The  continental  infantry 
and  two  companies  of  Virginia  militia, 
most  of  whom  had  already  served  as  reg 
ulars,  under  Captains  Triplett  and  Tait, 
were  stationed  on  the  slope  of  the  ad 
vanced  height,  at  some  distance  in  the 
rear,  and  composed  the  second  line,  un 
der  the  general  command  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Ho\vard,  whose  whole  force  num 
bered  four  hundred  men.  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Washington,  with  his  dragoons, 
reinforced  by  a  company  of  mounted  mi 
litia,  armed  with  sabres,  and  commanded 
by  Major  M'Call  (one  hundred  and  twen 
ty-five  in  all),  held  the  reserve,  and  took 
post  on  the  acclivity  of  the  second  of  the 


816 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT  n 


two  heights,  which  were  about  eighty 
yards  distant  from  each  other,  and  formed 
the  main  ground  upon  which  the  Ameri 
can  commander  awaited  battle.  By  this 
disposition, the  militia,  in  whom  there  was 
less  trust, but  who  were  skilful  marksmen, 
were  thrust  forward  in  sight,  to  distract 
the  enemy,  while  the  regular  troops  were 
held  back  in  concealment,  ready  to  push 
forward  with  their  firm  and  well-ordered 
ranks  in  the  crisis  of  the  engagement. 

Morgan  now  rode  along  the  lines,  and 
exhorted  his  men  to  duty.  First  addres 
sing  himself  to  the  militia,  "  he  extolled 
the  zeal  and  bravery  so  often  displayed 
by  them,  when  unsupported  with  the  bay 
onet  or  sword ;  and  declared  his  confi 
dence  that  they  could  not  fail  in  main 
taining  their  reputation,  when  supported 
by  chosen  bodies  of  horse  and  foot,  and 
conducted  by  himself.  Nor  did  he  forget 
to  glance  at  his  unvarying  fortune,  and 
superior  experience ;  or  to  mention  how 
often,  with  his  corps  of  riflemen,  he  had 
brought  British  troops,  equal  to  those  be 
fore  him,  to  submission.  He  described 
the  deep  regret  he  had  already  experi 
enced  in  being  obliged,  from  prudential 
considerations,  to  retire  before  an  enemy 
always  in  his  power;  exhorted  the  line  to 
be  firm  and  steady;  to  fire  with  good  aim; 
and  if  they  would  pour  in  but  two  volleys, 
at  killing  distance,  he  would  take  upon 
himself  to  secure  victory.  To  the  conti- 
nentals  he  was  very  brief.  He  reminded 
them  of  the  confidence  he  had  always  re 
posed  in  their  skill  and  courage ;  assured 
them  that  victory  was  certain  if  they  act 
ed  well  their  part ;  and  desired  them  not 
to  be  discouraged  by  the  sudden  retreat 


of  the  militia,  that  being  part  of  his  plan 
and  orders.  Then,  taking  post  with  this 
line,  he  waited  in  stern  silence  for  the 
enemy."*  His  troops,  refreshed  by  the 
night's  repose  and  the  morning  breakfast, 
were  eager  and  in  good  condition  for  the 
fight. 

Tarleton,  with  his  usual  impetuosity, 
finding  that  Morgan  was  prepared  to  give 
him  battle,  hastened  into  action.  His 
troops,  without  being  allowed  a  moment 
for  rest  or  refreshment,  jaded  as  they 
were  by  their  long  and  rapid  march,  were 
quickly  formed.  Hurrying  his  infantry 
into  line,  with  two  fieldpieces  in  the  cen 
tre  and  a  troop  of  dragoons  on  either 
flank,  and  ordering  the  seventy-first  regi 
ment  under  M'Arthur,  and  the  rest  of  the 
reserve  cavalry,  to  hold  themselves  in  re 
serve,  Tarleton  in  person  recklessly  led 
on  the  advance  column  before  his  whole 
force  had  completely  formed. 

The  light  parties  of  militia  soon  gave 
way,  and  ranged  themselves  with  the  first 

«/  /  o 

line,  under  Colonel  Pickens.  Tarleton 
and  his  men  pushed  on  with  a  shout,  but 
were  met  by  a  close  and  effective  fire  from 
the  militia  marksmen.  The  British  suf 
fered  severely,  but  continued  to  advance 
with  fixed  bayonets,  forcing  the  front  line 
back  upon  the  second.  Here  the  conti 
nentals  and  the  experienced  Virginia  mi 
litia,  under  Colonel  Howard,  firmly  stood 
their  ground,  and  gave  the  British  ad 
vance  such  a  spirited  reception,  that  their 
commander  was  obliged  to  order  up  his 
reserve.  With  this  increase  of  force,  the 
enemy  outstretched  the  American  front, 
and  their  cavalry  threatened  to  turn  its 

*  Lee. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]          TARLETON  AND  COLONEL  WASHINGTON. 


817 


right  flank.  Howard,  seeing  the  danger, 
immediately  ordered  his  right  company 
to  change  its  front.  His  men,  however, 

o  /  / 

mistaking  the  order,  fell  back,  and  the 
whole  line  followed,  threatening  total  con 
fusion.  But  at  this  moment  Morgan  rode 
forward,  and  ordered  them  to  retire  to  the 
second  height,  where  Colonel  Washington 
was  ready  to  sustain  them  with  the  re 
serve.  The  continentals,  strengthened  by 
this  support,  and  cheered  by  a  rapid  mes 
sage  from  Washington,"  Give  them  a  fire, 
and  I  will  charge  them,"  fell  back  in  ad 
mirable  order. 

The  British,  in  the  meantime,  seeing 
this  backward  movement,  and  believing 
that  it  was  a  flight,  came  on  in  a  hurried 
and  confused  pursuit.  At  this  moment, 
Colonel  Howard  ordered  his  continentals 
to  face  about ;  when  they  wheeled  on  the 
•instant,  and  poured  upon  the  enemy  a 
close  and  murderous  fire.  The  British 
recoiled  ;  and  Howard,  seizing  the  favor 
able  opportunity,  followed  his  advantage 
with  a  charge  of  bayonets.  In  this  crisis 
of  the  battle,  Colonel  Washington  encoun 
tered  the  cavalry  of  Tarleton  in  a  success- 
fid  charge.  The  militia  recovered,  and, 
forming  a  new  reserve,  were  ready  to  obey 
the  command  of  Morgan  "  to  give  them 
but  one  more  fire,  and  make  the  victory 
secure  !"  The  onset  of  Howard's  conti 
nentals,  whose  bayonets  were  interlocked 
with  those  of  the  enemy,  was  irresistible. 
They  drove  their  antagonists  before  them, 
and  the  day  was  won. 

The  concerted  action  of  Morgan's  whole 
force  at  this  most  important  moment  was 
the  certain  guaranty  of  victory.  The  en 
emy  were  within  thirty  yards,  tumultu- 

103 


ously  shouting  and  advancing,  when  the 
final  fire  of  the  Americans  was  given  :  the 
survivors  of  the  terrible  discharge  threw 
down  their  weapons  and  fell  upon  their 
faces.* 

During  the  heat  of  the  action,  some  of 
Tarleton's  cavalry  gained  the  rear  and  fell 
upon  the  militia,  who,  after  retiring,  had 
sought  their  horses,  which,  as  was  custom- 
ary  with  them  on  going  into  battle,  had 
been  picketed  near  by.  Colonel  Wash 
ington,  however,  coining  to  the  rescue, 
drove  off  the  English  troopers,  and  joined 
in  the  general  and  vigorous  pursuit  of  the 
enemy,  who  fled  in  confusion. 

Tarleton  strove  to  bring  up  the  cavalry 
left  in  reserve,  with  the  hope  of  rallying 
his  whole  force  ;  but,  struck  with  panic, 
they  refused  to  obey  his  call.  He  him 
self,  with  a  few  officers  and  a  handful  OL 
brave  men,  struggled  on  with  resolute 
courage  to  the  last,  and  were  left  almost 
alone  on  the  field. 

The  fugitive  British  dragoons  were  pur 
sued  by  Colonel  Washington  for  several 
miles,  but  most  of  them  escaped.  Excited 
by  the  prospect  of  capturing  the  formi 
dable  cavalry-leader  whose  successes  had 
hitherto  been  so  uniform  and  so  produc 
tive  of  disaster  to  the  Carolinas,  the  stal 
wart  Washington,  who  was  a  bold  rider 
and  reckless  of  danger,  had  in  the  ea<»;er- 

O          '  O 

ness  of  his  pursuit  advanced  nearly  thirty 
yards  in  front  of  his  regiment.  Three 
British  dragoon-officers,  observing  him, 
wheeled  their  horses  about,  and  sprang 
at  him  to  cut  him  down.  The  officer  on 
the  left  had  raised  his  sabre,  and  was 
about  striking  a  fatal  blow,  when  Ser- 

*  Sinmis. 


818 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


geant-Major  Perry,  who  had  galloped  for 
ward  to  the  rescue  of  his  colonel,  with  a 
rapid  and  timely  movement  smote  the 
Englishman's  sword-arm,  and  it  fell  pow 
erless  to  his  side.  But  the  officer  on  the 
right  supplied  the  place  of  his  disabled 
comrade,  and  crossed  swords  with  Wash 
ington.  The  blade  of  the  latter,  being  of 
inferior  temper,  broke  in  the  encounter, 
and  left  him  at  the  mercy  of  the  foe.  At 
this  moment,  when  a  second  blow  would 
have  brought  him  to  the  ground,  a  little 
henchman,  or  page,  not  fourteen  years 
of  age,  who  was  devoted  to  his  master, 
and  carried  no  other  weapon  than  a  pis 
tol  at  his  saddle-bow,  seasonably  rode  up, 
and  by  a  fortunate  aim  discharged  its  con 
tents  into  the  shoulder  of  the  assailant, 
whose  arm  dropped  nerveless  at  his  side. 
The  colonel  in  the  meantime  was  engaged 
in  front  with  the  third  officer,  who  was 
no  less  a  personage  than  the  formidable 
Tarleton  himself.  Washington  was  ready 
for  him,  and  with  his  broken  weapon  skil 
fully  parried  every  sword-thrust;  but  his 
antagonist,  backing  his  horse  a  few  paces, 
drew  a  pistol,  and  firing,  wounded  him  in 
the  knee,  and  brought  the  noble  steed 
which  bore  him  to  the  ground. 

The  fortunate  approach  of  the  Ameri 
cans  arrested  the  further  attempts  of  the 
Briton  upon  their  leader.  The  moment 
was  lost, and  his  flight  was  resumed.  "The 
British  dragoons  of  Tarleton,"  observes 
Simms,  "had  really  never  fought  well. 
They  had  repeatedly  hacked  to  pieces  a 
fugitive  or  supplicating  militia;  but  nei 
ther  at  Bluckstock's,  where  they  encoun 
tered  Sumter,nor  at  Co wpens,  where  they 
met  with  Washington,  did  they  maintain 


Jan.  17. 


the  high  renown  which  they  had  hitherto 
acquired  rather  from  good  fortune  than 
desert.  The  star  of  Tarleton  waned  from 
this  moment.  His  operations  grew  lim 
ited  in  extent  and  small  in  importance. 
His  defeat  on  this  occasion,  with  that  of 
Ferguson  at  King's  mountain,  were  the 
first  links  in  a  grand  chain  of  causes  which 
drew  down  ruin  on  the  British  interest  in 
South  Carolina." 

The  whole  loss  of  the  Americans  at  the 
important  engagement  of  Cowpens  was 
seventy  men,  of  whom,  strange 
to  say,  only  twelve  were  killed. 
One  hundred  of  the  British,  including  ten 
officers,  were  killed,  and  nearly  two  hun 
dred  wounded  ;  twenty-three  officers  and 
five  hundred  privates  were  taken  prison 
ers.  "  Mark  the  epaulette  men  !"  was  the 
significant  whisper  of  Pickens's  riflemen 
to  each  other  on  the  first  advance  of  the 
British  column  ;  and  the  large  number 
killed  or  disabled  in  the  action  shows  the 
heed  given  to  the  suggestion  by  these 

o  Co  •/ 

sharpshooters,  many  of  whom  were  burn 
ing  with  a  keen  sense  of  personal  injury. 
Two  fieldpieces,  two  standards,  eight 
hundred  muskets,  thirty-five  baggage- 
wagons.,  with  a  large  amount  of  ammuni 
tion,  one  hundred  dragoon-horses,  a  trav 
elling-forge,  seventy  negroes,  and  all  the 
music,  were  the  spoils  taken  by  the  vic 
torious  Morgan,  whose  services  on  that 
day  were  highly  lauded  throughout  the 
country.  Congress  presented  him  with 
a  gold  medal,  commemorative  of  his  vic 
tory  ;  to  Colonel  Pickens  was  given  a 
sword,  to  Lieutenant -Col  on  els  Howard 
and  Washington  each  a  silver  medal,  and 
to  Captain  Triplett  a  sword. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         MORGAN'S  RETREAT.— ARNOLD  IN  VIRGINIA. 


819 


Lord  Corn wallis, in  his  camp  on  Turkey 
creek,  within  twenty-five  miles  of  Cow- 
pens,  and  whither  he  had  marched  to  fol 
low  up  the  presumed  success  of  Tarleton, 
now  heard  with  dismay  of  the  defeat  of 
his  trusty  dragoon.  This  failure,  like  that 
of  the  capable  Ferguson,  seemed  to  be  a 
fatal  omen  to  the  proposed  North-Caro 
lina  campaign.  His  lordship  had  been 
sanguine  of  success  now  as  then,  and  in 
both  instances  the  result  had  been  equal 
ly  disastrous.  The  earl,  however,  spirit 
edly  strove  to  repair  his  past  losses  by 
the  most  vigorous  efforts  to  secure  suc 
cess  for  the  future. 

In  order  to  quicken  his  movements  — 
for  he  found  that  nothing  could  be  done 
in  that  rough  country,  and  against  his 


alert  enemy,  without  light  troops — his 
lordship  determined  to  sacrifice  his  bag 
gage.  Everything  was  destroyed  except 
a  small  supply  of  clothing,  and  a  sufficient 
number  of  wagons  for  the  conveyance  of 
hospital-stores,  of  salt,  of  ammunition,  and 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  sick  and 
wounded.  The  earl,  showing  the  exam 
ple,  by  first  destroying  his  own  baggage, 
his  officers  and  men  cheerfully  followed, 
and  every  superfluity  was  given  up. 

Thus  lightened,  and  being  reinforced 
by  fifteen  hundred  troops  from  Charles 
ton,  under  General  Leslie,  Cornwallis  con 
centrated  his  forces  and  hastened  in  pur 
suit  of  the  victorious  Morgan,  who,  imme 
diately  after  his  triumph,  crossed  Broad 
river,  and  pushed  on  to  the  Catawba. 


CHAPTER   XCV. 

General  Arnold  bids  for  Traitors. — Chafing  for  Action. — Expedition  to  Virginia. — Debarkation  of  Arnold. — The  Fight  at 
Richmond. — Escape  of  Jefferson. — Huthless  Devastations. — Richmond  burnt. — Jefferson  to  the  Rescue. — Retreat  of 
Arnold  to  Portsmouth. — Discontent  of  the  American  Troops. — Mutiny  of  the  Pennsylvanians. — General  Wayne  in 
terposes. — March  of  the  Mutineers. — Appeal  from  the  Enemy. — Mutiny  not  Treason. — Agitation  in  Philadelphia. — 
Reed  to  the  Rescue. — Fate  of  the  British  Emissaries. — Revolt  of  the  New-Jersey  Troops. — Quelled  by  General  Howe. 
— The  Ringleaders  shot. — A  Sad  Execution. — Desperate  Tampering  with  Patriotism. — Strength  of  the  American 
Cause. — The  Good  Results  following  the  Mutinies. 


1780, 


ARNOLD,  now  a  brigadier-general 
in  the  British  army,  finding  his  ef 
forts  to  justify  his  crime  in  his  "address 
to  the  inhabitants  of  America"  as  futile 
as  was  his  "proclamation"  to  induce  the 
American  officers  and  soldiers  to  follow 
his  example  of  treason,  burned  with  ma 
licious  spite  to  revenge  his  disappoint 
ment  upon  his  country,  which  he  had  so 
basely  striven  to  ruin.  Chafing,  too,  at 


the  undisguised  contempt  of  those  to 
whose  corrupt  service  he  had  sold  his 
honor,  he  sought  relief  from  the  scorn  of 
others, and  perhaps  from  his  own  remorse, 
in  the  excitement  of  action. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  soon  gave  Arnold 
the  opportunity  he  sought  of  staining  his 
sword  with  the  blood  of  his  countrymen. 
The  troops  under  General  Leslie  having 
been  diverted  to  South  Carolina,  it  was 


820 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[TAUT  n. 


determined  to  send  another  expedition  to 
Virginia.     A  miscellaneous  detachment 

D 

of  seventeen  hundred  men,  consisting  of 
British  regulars,  refugees,  and  German 
mercenaries,  was  accordingly  despatched 
on  this  service.  The  renegade  Arnold 
was  given  the  chief  command,  although 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  naturally  distrustful 
of  his  new  ally,  took  care  to  associate  with 
him  Colonels  Dundas  and  Simcoe,  men  of 
well-tried  fidelity,  whom  Arnold  was  strict 
ly  ordered  to  consult,  and  without  whose 
concurrence  he  was  forbidden  to  take  a 
single  step  of  importance. 

The  object  of  the  expedition, 
which  was  one  of  plunder  and 
devastation,  suited  well  the  present  tem 
per  of  the  arch-traitor ;  and,  as  he  sailed 
away  from  the  harbor  of  New  York,  with 
his  troops  on  board  some  fifty  small  ves 
sels,  he  uttered  the  malignant  boast  that 
he  would  give  the  Americans  a  blow  that 
would  "make  the  whole  continent  shake." 
The  fleet  had  hardly  sailed,  when  a  severe 
storm  arose,  which  scattered  the  ships; 
and,  to  keep  them  from  foundering,  one 
half  of  the  cavalry-horses  and  several  of 
the  large  guns  had  to  be  thrown  over 
board.  The  half-wrecked  vessels,  with  the 
exception  of  three  transports  and  a  man- 
of-war,  at  last  gathered  together  off  the 

Dec,  30,    Cape>S  °f  tllt3  Chesapeake,  and  en 
tered  Hampton  roads.    The  mis 
sing  ships  did  not  arrive  until  four  days 
afterward. 

1 78 1,  Wifa  his  usual  promptitude  of 
action,  Arnold  immediately  seized 
upon  some  small  boats,  put  nine  hundred 
men  on  board,  and,  like  a  pirate,  sailed  up 
James  river,  plundering  and  rava^in"-  as 


Jan, 


he  went,  and  finally  landed  at 
Westover,  the  ancient  seat  of  the 
Byrd  family, only  twenty-five  miles  below 
Richmond,  the  capital  of  Virginia. 

Thomas  Jefferson,  then  governor  of  the 
state,  immediately  called  out  the  militia ; 
but  so  few  obeyed  the  summons,  that  Jef 
ferson  was  forced  to  give  up  all  hope  of 
defending  Richmond.  Some  of  the  pub 
lic  property  was  hastily  removed  to  the 
country ;  and  the  governor  and  the  state 
officers,  finding  that  the  rapid  Arnold  had 
already  reached  Four-mile  creek,  only 
twelve  miles  below  Richmond,  speedily 
followed.  Jefferson  fled  during  the  nio-ht. 

O  O 

Early  next  morning,  Arnold  was  in  pos 
session  of  the  capital,  where  he  had  hoped 
to  catch  the  governor ;  but  he  had  made 
his  escape  just  in  time.  Thus  foiled  in 
his  effort  to  capture  the  illustrious  author 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the 
traitor  sent  a  deputation  of  the  citizens 
of  Richmond  to  him,  with  the  declaration 
that  he  would  not  destroy  the  city  if  the 
British  vessels  were  allowed  to  come  up 
without  interruption  to  the  docks,  and 
load  with  the  tobacco.  This  proposition 
was,  however,  scornfully  rejected  by  Jef 
ferson. 

Arnold  now  no  longer  withheld  his  de 
vastating  hand.  He  despatched  Colonel 
Simcoe,  with  four  hundred  men, 
to  destroy  the  storehouses  ani 
foundries  at  Wrotham.  Arnold's  coadju 
tor  faithfully  did  his  bidding,  and  not  only 
destroyed  the  property  of  the  state,  but 
also  some  of  the  public  documents  and 
archives  which  had  been  conveyed  there 
for  security.  Simcoe  returned  to  Rich 
mond  without  having  received  the  least 


Jan,  6, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SUFFERING  IN  THE  AMERICAN  ARMY. 


821 


hinderance  in  his  ruthless  expedition,  and 
joined  Arnold  in  his  destruction  of  that 
city.  All  the  public  buildings  were  set 
on  fire,  as  well  as  the  tobacco-warehouses  ; 
and,  leaving  "an  atmosphere  that  smelt 
as  if  a  million  of  pipes  and  a  million  of 
cigars  were  smoking  together,"  the  rene 
gade  quitted  the  capital  and  encamped 
at  Four-mile  creek. 

On  the  following  day,  Arnold 
descended  James  river  to  West- 
over,  where  he  had  first  landed.  In  the 
meantime,  Governor  Jefferson  returned  to 
the  ruins  of  Richmond,  and,  by  another 
effort  succeeded  in  bringing  a  small  mili 
tia-force  into  the  field,  which  made  an  oc 
casional  resistance  to  the  marauders,  but 
without  much  effect.  Arnold,  finding  that 
Baron  Steuben,  who  was  in  command  in 
Virginia,  was  preparing  to  cut  him  off, 
and  Jefferson  having  offered  a  reward  of 
five  thousand  guineas  for  his  capture,  now 
hastened  to  his  boats  and  proceeded  down 
the  stream  to  Portsmouth,  oppo 
site  Norfolk,  on  Elizabeth  river, 
where,  being  reinforced  by  the  arrival  of 
more  troops  from  New  York,  he  fortified 
and  prepared  to  hold  the  town. 

Arnold's  "  proclamation"  to  the  officers 
and  soldiers  of  the  American  army,  which 
he  had  issued  at  New  York  immediately 
after  the  detection  of  his  treason,  and  two 
months  before  his  marauding  expedition 
to  Virginia,  was  artfully  addressed  at  the 
most  opportune  period  for  his  malignant 
purpose.  The  American  soldiers  were 
discontented.  "  Poorly  clothed,  badly  fed, 
and  worse  paid,  some  of  them  not  having 
received  a  paper  dollar  for  nearly  twelve 
months;  exposed  to  winter's  piercing  cold, 


Jan,  20, 


to  drifting  snow,  and  chilling  blasts,  with 
no  protection  but  old  worn-out  coats,  tat 
tered  linen  overalls,  and  but  one  blanket 
between  three  men.  The  officers  in  gen 
eral,  as  well  as  myself,  find  it  necessary 
to  stand  for  hours  every  day,  exposed  to 
wind  and  weather,  among  these  poor  na 
ked  fellows,  while  they  are  working  at 
their  huts  and  redoubts,  often  assisting 
with  our  own  hands,  in  order  to  procure 
a  conviction  to  their  minds  that  we  share, 
and  more  than  share,  every  vicissitude  in 
common  with  them  —  sometimes  asking 

c 

to  participate  in  their  bread  and  water." 
Such  is  the  relation,  by  their  commander, 
Wayne,  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Pennsyl 
vania  troops  of  the  line,  while  in  their 
winter -quarters  at  Morristown.  These 
consisted  of  six  regiments  (about  two 
thousand  men),  who  were  exposed  to  ev 
ery  privation  and  hardship.  Their  mis 
ery  was  the  misery  of  all  the  troops  com 
posing  the  northern  army  at  the  close  of 
the  year  1780  ;  and  such  was  the  general 
discontent,  that  universal  mutiny  seemed 
not  improbable.  The  Pennsylvania  regi 
ments,  however,  were  those  to  show  the 
example.  They  were  excellent  soldiers, 
and,  although  mostly  natives  of  Ireland, 
of  undoubted  fidelity  to  the  cause  of  their 
adopted  country.  But  they  were  char 
acteristically  excitable,  and  more  readily 
led  into  sudden  bursts  of  passionate  ex 
cess  ;  while  apart  from  the  common  in 
citement  to  re  volt,  there  was  an  additional 
grievance  to  stir  their  indignation.  The 
promises  which  had  been  often  made  by 
Congress  had  been  as  often  unfulfilled ; 
and  now  the  expression  in  their  enlist 
ment  agreement,  to  "  serve  for  three  years, 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT 


or  during  the  war,"  which  was  intended 
for  less  than  three  years  if  the  tuar  should 
sooner  end,  was  ungenerously  interpreted 
to  mean  until  the  end  of  the  tear,  if  it  should 
last  longer.  This  interpretation  was  nat 
urally  regarded  by  them  as  chicanery,  at 
which  they  felt  greatly  exasperated.  In 
common  with  others,  they  had  suffered 
year  after  year  from  lack  of  money,  cloth 
ing,  and  sometimes  food.  The  little  conti 
nental  money  which  they  had  been  receiv 
ing  was  now  worthless,  and  hitherto  there 
had  been  a  continued  loss  upon  it  by  de 
preciation  ;  and  the  pay  of  both  officers 
and  men  was  greatly  in  arrears.  Still,  up 
to  the  close  of  1780,  these  troops  had  ex 
hibited  nothing  beyond  the  usual  signs 
of  discontent. 

The  three  years'  enlistment  of  most  of 
the  Pennsylvanians  expired  at  the  begin 
ning  of  the  new  year;  and  they 
had  the  mortification  of  seeing 
a  bounty  of  about  twenty-five  dollars  of 
fered  to  raw  recruits,  while  they,  the  vet 
erans  of  three  years,  whose  wages  yet  re 
mained  unsettled,  were  offered  no  more. 
All  these  grievances  combined  formed  a 
serious  cause  for  complaint.  The  officers 
had  already  murmured  some;  and  the 
common  soldiers,  encouraged  by  their  ex 
ample,  acted  with  boldness..  According 
ly,  on  the  night  of  the  first  of  January, 
when  inflamed  with  the  drink  and  excite 
ment  of  the  new-year  holyday,  they  sud 
denly  broke  out  into  open  revolt. 

On  a  signal  being  given,  the  non-com 
missioned  officers  as  well  as  the  privates 
of  three  regiments  of  the  Pennsylvania 
line,  who  considered  their  terms  of  en 
listment  as  expired,  and  mmiberincr  in  all 


thirteen  hundred  men,  turned  out  under 
arms, and  declared  that  they  would  march 
to  Philadelphia,  and  either  obtain  a  re 
dress  of  their  grievances  from  Congress 
or  serve  no  longer.  The  officers  of  the 
line  collected  those  who  remained,  and 
with  these  strove  to  quell  the  mutiny,  and 
arrest  the  march  of  the  insurgents,  but  a 
captain  was  killed  and  three  other  officers 
wounded  in  the  vain  attempt.  The  mu 
tineers  then  forced  the  minority  to  join 
them,  under  a  threat  of  instant  death  if 
they  should  refuse. 

Their  commander,  General  Wayne,  in 
terposed,  and  strove  to  appease  them  with 
words,  but  the  excited  soldiery  would  not 
listen  to  what  he  had  to  say.  He  then 
drew  his  pistols,  and  advanced  upon  them 
as  if  to  fire.  Presenting  their  bayonets 
to  his  breast,  they  exclaimed  :  "  We  love 
and  respect  you ;  but,  if  you  fire,  you  are 
a  dead  man !  We  are  not  going  to  the 
enemy.  On  the  contrary,  if  they  were 
now  to  come  out,  you  should  see  us  fight 
under  your  orders  with  as  much  alacrity 
as  ever  ;  but  we  will  no  longer  be  amused. 
We  are  determined  on  obtaining  what  is 
our  just  due." 

Electing  temporary  officers  from  their 
own  body,  and  giving  a  sergeant-major 
(who  was  a  former  deserter  from  the  Brit 
ish  army)  the  chief  command,  with  the 
title  of  major-general,  the  mutineers  pro 
ceeded  to  the  magazines,  and  supplied 
themselves  with  ammunition,  and  provis 
ions  for  immediate  use ;  seized  six  field- 
pieces,  and  horses  from  Wayne's  stables 
to  drag  them;  and  then  set  out  on  their 
march  to  Princeton.  General  Wayne,  in 
order  that  theirnecessitiesmight  notforce 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


REVOLT  OF  THE  PENNSYLVANIA  LINE. 


823 


them  to  make  depreciations  on  private 
property,  sent  them  supplies  of  provis 
ions,  and  soon  after  followed  in  company 
with  Colonels  Butler  and  Stewart,  whom 
they  highly  esteemed,  that  he  might  ex 
ercise  the  moral  influence  which  he  still 
possessed  in  guiding  their  movements  and 
checking  their  excesses.  He  at  the  same 
time  despatched  two  officers  to  Philadel 
phia,  to  warn  Congress  of  their  approach. 
The  mutineers  received  their  commander 
with  respect,  but  still  insisted  upon  the 
redress  of  their  grievances  as  the  condi 
tion  of  a  return  to  duty. 

When  Washington,  who  was  then  at 
New  Windsor,  on  the  Hudson,  heard  of 
the  revolt,  he  advised  General  Wayne  not 
to  employ  force,  for  the  number  of  the 
insurgents  was  too  great  and  their  com 
plaints  too  just  to  risk  the  hazard  of  such 
a  step.  Besides,  he  was  not  sorry  to  see 
the  derelict  Congress  aroused  by  bayonets 
to  a  proper  sense  of  its  duty  toward  the 
suffering  army.  The  commander-in-chief 
had  great  confidence  in  Wayne,  and  rec 
ommended  him  to  get  from  the  revolters 
a  statement  of  their  grievances,  which  he 
promised  in  a  candid  spirit  to  lay  before 
Congress  and  the  general  assembly  of 
Pennsylvania.  Accordingly,  on  halting 
at  Princeton,  the  mutineers  presented  a 
written  programme  of  their  demands  to 
Wayne,  who  immediately  forwarded  it  to 
Congress. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  received  news  of  the 
revolt  of  the  American  troops  simultane 
ously  with  Washington,  and,  thinking  the 
opportunity  favorable  for  gaining  over 
the  mutineers  to  the  British  cause,  sent 
two  emissaries  to  Princeton  to  treat  with 


them.  At  the  same  time,  mustering  his 
troops  and  ships  at  New  York,  he  pre 
pared  to  take  advantage  of  the  auspicious 
result  which  he  anticipated.  The  emis 
saries  (a  British  sergeant  and  one  Ogden, 
a  tory  of  New  Jersey)  presented  them 
selves  with  a  document,  in  which  Sir  Hen 
ry  promised  the  insurgents  their  arrears 
of  pay,  including  the  amount  of  the  de 

J.       */  '  O 

preciation  of  the  continental  currency  in 
their  possession,  in  gold,  good  clothing,  a 
free  pardon  for  all  past  offences,  and  the 
protection  of  the  British  government,  if 
they  would  lay  down  their  arms  and 
march  to  New  York,  where  no  military 
service,  unless  voluntary,  would  be  re 
quired  of  them.  This  proposition  was  re 
jected  by  the  Pennsylvania  line  to  a  man, 
with  scorn,  and  the  document  delivered 
up  to  Wayne.  The  British  emissaries, 
however,  were  retained  by  the  revolters 
until  their  demands  should  have  a  hear 
ing  from  the  state. 

Philadelphia  was  in  a  state  of  great  agi 
tation  when  the  two  officers  despatched 
by  General  Wayne  galloped  into  the  city 
with  news  of  the  revolt.  Joseph  Reed, 
the  president  of  Pennsylvania,  accompa 
nied  by  some  of  the  civil  officers  and  a 
committee  of  Congress,  and  escorted  by 
a  mounted  guard,  hastened  forward  to 
meet  the  disalfected  troops.  It  was,  how 
ever,  thought  inexpedient  to  trust  them 
selves  among  them ;  and  Reed  halted  at 
Trenton,  whence  he  wrote  to  Wayne, 
that,  after  the  treatment  of  the  marquis 
Lafayette  and  General  St.  Clair,  who  had 
been  peremptorily  ordered  away  from  the 
rebellious  camp,  whither  they  had  gone 
to  interpose  their  good  offices,  he  could 


824 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


not  venture  to  put  himself  in  the  power 
of  the  excited  soldiery. 

This  letter  was  read  aloud  by  "Wayne 
to  the  troops,  and  evidently  with  a  favor 
able  effect.  Thronging  about  the  mes 
senger  who  had  brought  it,  the  men  anx 
iously  inquired  if  the  president  was  un 
friendly  to  them  ;  while  some  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  express  their  aversion  to  the  affair 
in  which  they  were  engaged. 

Finding,  however,  that  the  mutineers 
had  rejected  the  wily  proffers  of  Sir  Hen 
ry  Clinton,  and  trusting  to  their  patriot 
ism,  Reed  no  longer  hesitated  to  meet 
them.  "  I  have  but  one  life  to  lose,"  he 
wrote  to  the  executive  council  of  Penn 
sylvania,  "  and  my  country  has  the  first 
claim  to  it."  But  no  such  sacrifice  was 
exacted  from  the  patriotic  president. 

On  approaching  Princeton,  Reed  was 
received  with  all  the  military  honors  :  the 
mutineers  were  drawn  up  in  full  array, 
with  arms  presented ;  and  the  artillery 
would  have  fired  a  jubilant  salute,  had  it 
not  been  prevented,  lest  it  might  alarm 
the  country.  A  conference  ensued,  when 
terms  were  agreed  upon,  by  which  the 
revolters,  having  been  guarantied  a  re 
dress  of  their  grievances,  returned  to  duty. 

The  emissaries  of  the  British  command 
er  were  now  brought  forward  and  deliv 
ered  up  to  General  Wayne.  "See,  com 
rades,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  leaders  in  the 
mutiny,  "  Clinton  takes  us  for  traitors ! 
Let  us  show  him  that  the  American  army 
can  furnish  but  Q^Q  Arnold,  and  that  Amer 
ica  has  no  truer  friends  than  we."  The 
emissaries  were  subsequently  tried,  con 
demned  as  spies,  and  hung.  Sir  Henry 
thus  found  that  the  American  soldiers. 


however  loose  in  discipline,  were  firm  in 
patriotism.  He  might  have  spared  his 
attempts  at  corruption,  had  he  called  to 
mind  the  total  failure  of  the  proclamation 
of  Arnold,  who  was  in  every  respect  his 
master  in  the  art. 

But  the  fidelity  of  these  soldiers  did 
not  stop  with  the  seizure  of  the  emissa 
ries.  When  the  reward  of  fifty  guineas 
each,  which  had  been  offered  by  General 
Wayne  for  the  apprehension  of  the  British 
agents,  was  proffered  to  the  two  sergeants 
who  brought  them  to  the  commander, 
they  refused  it,  saying,  "  Necessity  wrung 
from  us  the  act  of  demanding  justice  from 
Congress,  but  we  desire  no  reward  for  do 
ing  our  duty  to  our  adopted  country !" 

The  ill  example  of  the  Pennsylvanians 
was  soon  followed  by  some  of  the  New- 
Jersey  troops.  In  the  middle  of 

Inn       OQ 

the  night,  a  portion  of  the  line, 
nearly  three  hundred  in  number,  then  sta 
tioned  at  Pornpton,  revolted,  claiming  the 
same  privileges  which  had  been  conceded 
to  the  Pennsylvanians,  whose  success  was 
well  calculated  to  encourage  the  same 
conduct  in  others.  Washington,  howev 
er,  who  justly  feared  the  effect  of  the  in 
dulgent  treatment  of  the  first  mutineers, 
was  resolved  to  act  more  summarily  with 
the  New-Jersey  troops.  He  accordingly 
despatched  General  Robert  Howe,  at  the 
head  of  five  hundred  men  of  the  Massa 
chusetts  line,  to  force  the  malcontents  to 
unconditional  submission. 

At  dawn  of  day,  General  Howe  halted 
within  sight  of  the  mutinous  camp  at 
Pompton.  Here,  with  some  anx 
iety  lest  his  men,  fraternizing 
with  their  rebellious  comrades,  should  re- 


Jau.  27. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         EXECUTION  OF  MUTINEERS  AT  POMFPOX. 


825 


fuse  to  comply,  he  ordered  his  troops  to 
load.  Each  soldier  obeyed  with  alacrity, 
when  Howe  harangued  his  troops,  and  de 
clared  to  them  that  the  mutineers  were 
to  be  brought  to  unconditional  submis 
sion.  Two  fieldpieces  were  then  drawn 
forward,  and  the  men  ordered  to  surround 
the  huts  in  which  the  revolters  had  their 
winter  encampment,  and  where  they  were 
mostly  asleep  at  that  early  hour. 

The  general  now  sent  his  aid-de-camp 
to  summon  the  mutineers  to  appear  on 
parade  unarmed,  in  front  of  their  huts, 
within  five  minutes.  The  time  passed, 
and  none  showed  themselves.  Another 
messenger  was  sent  to  repeat  the  order. 
It  was  instantaneously  obeyed.  Every 
man  presented  himself  as  he  had  been 
ordered,  unarmed  and  without  the  least 
show  of  resistance.  Three  of  the  ring 
leaders  were  at  once  singled  out,  and,  be 
ing  tried  by  the  court-martial,  standing 
grim  and  cold  on  the  spot,  covered  deep 
with  snow,  were  condemned  to  be  imme 
diately  shot.  Twelve  of  the  most  guilty 
of  their  comrades  were  selected  to  be  the 
executioners  ;  and,  when  ordered  to  load 
their  muskets,  they  burst  into  an  agony 
of  tears,  at  the  dreadful  office  to  which 
they  had  been  condemned. 

The  first  criminal  was  a  sergeant,  and 
an  old  offender.  He  was  led  a  few  yards 
distant,  and  placed  on  his  knees.  Six  of 
the  twelve  executioners  fired  at  the  first 
signal,  three  aiming  at  the  head  and  three 
at  the  breast.  Their  shots  were  ineffect 
ual  ;  when  the  other  six,  who  had  been 
reserved  for  such  an  emergency,  fired  and 
put  an  end  to  the  sufferings  of  the  vic 
tim.  The  second  culprit  was  killed  in- 

104 


stantaneously  by  the  first  fire ;  and  the 
third,  in  the  moment  of  expected  death, 
was  pardoned  by  the  intercession  of  his 
officers. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  had,  in  this  instance, 
made  another  desperate  effort  to  tamper 
with  the  patriotism  of  the  mutineers,  but 
found  his  last  attempt  no  less  futile  than 
his  previous  ones.  Thus  ended  the  mem 
orable  mutiny  of  1781  in  the  American 
army,  which  so  greatly  alarmed  the  fears 
of  the  patriots  and  so  greatly  encouraged 
the  hopes  of  their  enemies.  The  result, 
however,  served  to  prove  more  than  ever 
the  strength  of  the  cause  of  America,  for 
it  exhibited  the  most  unruly  and  discon 
tented  of  her  people  firm  and  constant 
in  loyalty  to  their  country 

These  events,  moreover,  aroused  the 
people  and  Congress  to  more  vigorous 
action  ;  and  efforts  hitherto  unprecedent 
ed  were  made  to  raise  money  and  supply 
the  wants  of  the  army.  Taxes  were  im 
posed,  and  cheerfully  acquiesced  in ;  and 
during  the  year(1781)  the  "Bank  of  North 
America"  was  established  at  Philadelphia, 
under  the  supervision  of  Robert  Morris, 
a  wealthy  merchant  of  that  city,  to  whose 
superintendence  Congress  had  recently 
intrusted  the  national  treasury.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  it  was  principally 
owing  to  the  financial  operations  of  this 
distinguished  patriot  that  the  American 
army  was  not  disbanded  by  its  own  act, 
and  that  Congress  was  enabled  to  com 
mence  offensive  operations  on  the  open 
ing  of  the  spring  campaign  for  this  year. 
He  assumed  the  collection  of  taxes,  and 
the  supply  of  the  army  with  flour ;  and 
he  likewise  used  his  private  fortune  and 


826 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


his  personal  credit,  without  stint,  to  sus 
tain  the  government* 

Efforts  had  previously  been  made  to 
negotiate  loans  of  money  and  obtain  mili 
tary  supplies  in  different  parts  of  Europe. 
Spain  had  loaned  only  fourteen  thousand 
dollars,  when  nearly  half  a  million  was 
the  amount  asked ;  and  France  seemed 
to  feel  that  she  had  done  quite  enough 
in  sending  her  fleets  and  armies  to  Amer 
ica.  Colonel  John  Laurens,  son  of  the 
ex-president  of  Congress,  was,  in  this  ex 


tremity,  sent,  on  a  special  commission  to 
France  ;  and,  contrary  to  usual  etiquette, 
he  presented  his  memorial  in  person  to 
the  king.  He  succeeded  in  obtaining  a 
subsidy  of  six  millions  of  livres  (one  mil 
lion  two  hundred  thousand  dollars),  with 
a  further  sum  by  way  of  loan,  and  guar 
anty  for  a  Dutch  loan  of  five  millions  of 
guilders  (two  millions  of  dollars).  This 
was  intimated  as  being  the  very  last  pe 
cuniary  aid  that  could  be  granted  to  the 
United  States.* 


CHAPTER   XCVI. 

Lord  Cornwallis  on  the  Heels  of  Morgan. — His  Escape. — Interposition  of  Providence. — General  Greene  to  the  Relict. — 
Promptitude  in  Business. — A  Hard  Gallop. — Greene  on  the  Catawba. — Hope  in  Misery. — Cornwallis  crosses  the  River. 

— A  Dangerous  Ford. — The  British  in  the  Dark. — The  American  Riflemen. — A  Bare  Escape. — A  Noble  Charger. 

Tarleton  in  Pursuit. — A  Parthian  Shot. — Greene  in  Danger. — At  Stcele's  Tavern. — Penniless  and  hungry. — Generos 
ity  of  a  Female  Patriot.— Flight  and  Pursuit.— The  British  brought  to  a  Halt.— The  Yadkin.— Greene  at  Guilford 
Courthouse. — His  Tactics. 


1781. 


LORD  CORNWALLIS,  having  disen 
cumbered  himself  of  his  baggage, 
as  already  related,  was  able  to  push  for 
ward  in  pursuit  of  General  Morgan  with 
great  rapidity.  He  was,  however,  so  bent 
upon  coming  up  with  his  energetic  ene 
my,  that,  quickly  as  his  whole  army  was 
moving,  he  yet  detached  a  body  of  light- 
troops  to  hasten  on  in  advance.  Not  a 
moment  was  lost;  and,  by  forced  marches 
night  and  day,  the  detachment  succeeded 
in  making  such  rapid  progress,  that  it  was 
Boon  at  the  heels,  with  every  prospect  of 
immediately  overtaking,  Morgan  and  his 
men. 

The  American  general,  too,  was  spar- 

*  Losbing. 


ing  no  effort  to  escape  from  his  formida 
ble  pursuers ;  but,  encumbered  as  he  was 
with  the  wounded,  the  prisoners,  and  the 
captured  baggage,  his  progress  was  neces 
sarily  slower  than  that  of  his  adversary. 
Nevertheless,  rapid  as  had  been  the  move 
ments  of  Cornwallis,  his  lordship,  in  de 
stroying  his  heavy  baggage  and  making 
other  preparations  for  the  pursuit,  had 
consumed  two  days,  which  excited  the 
censure  of  the  more  active  Tarleton,  and 
gave  Morgan  so  much  the  start.  The  lat 
ter  finally  reached  and  crossed  the  great 
Catawba  river,  at  Gowan's  ford,  thirty 
miles  north  from  the  boundary  of  South 
Carolina.  The  British  came  up  in  hot  pur- 

*  Sparks. 


REVOLUTION  A  UY.] 


CROSSING  THE  CATAWBA. 


827 


Jan.  23, 


suit  just  two  hours  after  he  had  touched 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream.  It  be 
ing  late  at  night,  and  feeling  con 
fident  of  his  prey,  as  he  had  been 
at  Trenton  more  than  four  years  before, 
the  earl  deferred  his  passage  until  morn 
ing.  But  during  the  night  the  river  had 
so  swollen  by  a  sudden  and  heavy  rain, 
that  it  was  impassable.  Morgan  was  safe, 
and  with  pious  enthusiasm  gratefully  ac 
knowledged  that  his  escape  was  due  to  a 
specinl  interposition  of  Providence. 

The  waters  of  the  rivers  continuing  to 
overflow  for  two  days,  gave  Morgan  an 
opportunity  of  sending  off  the  prisoners 
toward  Virginia  which  he  had  taken  at 
Cowpens,  and  mustering  the  North-Caro 
lina  militia  of  the  neighborhood  to  defend 
the  fords  of  the  Catawba. 

General  Greene,  at  his  camp  on  the 
Great  Pedee,  heard  of  the  "  glorious  ac 
tion"  at  Cowpens,  and  soon  afterward  of 
the  rapid  movements  of  Lord  Cornwallis. 
Finding  Morgan  hard  pushed,  he  deter 
mined  to  hasten  to  his  relief.  Business 
pressed  in  upon  him  at  the  moment  of 
departure,  but  the  prompt  and  energetic 
Greene  was  equal  to  every  emergency. 
Word  came  that  a  British  squadron  had 
entered  the  Cape-Fear  river,  and  landed 
troops  at  Wilmington,  in  North  Carolina. 
Their  object  was  doubtless  to  co-operate 
with  Earl  Cornwallis,  and  measures  were 
taken  to  prevent  it.  The  southern  states 
were  to  be  called  to  duty  in  the  crisis; 
and  accordingly  despatches  were  written 
and  sent  forward  to  the  governors  of  Vir 
ginia  and  the  Carolinas,  urgently  entreat 
ing  them  to  furnish  aid  in  men,  money, 
and  provisions.  Baron  Steuben,  who  was 


in  Virginia,  pursuing  Arnold  toward  the 
seaboard,  was  urged  by  letter  to  hasten 
forward  his  recruits  for  the  southern  army. 
The  mountaineers,  who  had  been  led  to 
victory  by  Campbell  at  King's  mountain, 
were  besought  to  rally  again  from  their 
homes  beyond  the  Alleghanies  to  the  res 
cue  of  their  country.  The  Virginia  mili 
tia  were  quickly  put  in  marching  trim, 
and  sent  forward  to  take  charge  of  Mor 
gan's  prisoners  and  conduct  them  to  their 
own  state,  whither  they  themselves  were 
about  to  return,  as  their  term  of  service 
would  soon  expire.  Provisions  were  col 
lected,  magazines  established,  stores  re 
moved  to  places  of  safe  deposite,  detach 
ments  called  in,  and  all  the  complicated 
details  of  preparation  for  a  campaign, 
promptly  but  efficiently  accomplished  by 
the  resolute  Greene. 

In  his  impatience  to  be  with  Morgan, 
Greene  did  not  await  the  marching  of  his 
troops,  but  hurried  on  in  advance,  leaving 
General  Huger,  of  South  Carolina,  in  com 
mand,  with  orders  to  proceed  by  forced 
marches  to  Salisbury,  which  was  agreed 
upon  as  the  rendezvous  for  the  whole  ar 
my.  The  general-in-chief,  accompanied 
only  by  an  aid-de-camp,  a  guide,  and  a  ser 
geant's  guard  of  dragoons,  rode  on  in  all 
haste  to  join  Morgan,  whom  he 
reached  at  Sherrard's  ford,  after 
a  hard  gallop  of  a  hundred  miles  through 
a  rough  country  from  his  encampment  op 
posite  Cheraw,  a  little  below  the  bound 
ary-line  between  the  Carolinas. 

General  Greene  found  but  seventeen 
hundred  men,  including  the  militia,  mus 
tered  under  Morgan ;  while  Cornwallis, 
now  come  up  with  his  main  body,  was  only 


828 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


hindered  by  the  still  swollen  waters  from 
crossing  the  Catawba,  and  bringing  into 
action  his  much  more  formidable  force  of 
twenty-five  hundred.  The  condition  of 
the  American  troops  was  not  encoura- 
o-iri"-  "More  than  half  our  numbers," 

o        O 

wrote  Greene,  "  are  in  a  manner  naked  ; 
so  much  so,  that  we  can  not  put  them  on 
the  least  kind  of  duty.  Indeed,  there  is  a 
great  number  that  have  not  a  rag  of  clothes  on 
them,  except  a  little  piece  of  blanket,  in  the  In 
dian  form,  around  their  u'aists"  Yet  such 
was  the  undaunted  spirit  of  their  com 
mander,  that  almost  at  the  same  moment 
he  could  thus  cheerfully  express  himself 
in  regard  to  the  future  :  "  I  am  not  with 
out  hopes  of  ruining  Lord  Cornwallis,  if 
he  persists  in  his  mad  scheme  of  pushing 
through  the  country."  His  lordship  was 
pursuing  a  course  similar  to  that  of  Bur- 
goyne,  in  1777;  and  what  the  action  at 
Bennington  had  been  to  the  latter,  the 
battle  of  Cowpens  was  likely  to  prove  to 
the  former. 

The  Catawba  was  falling  fast,  and  the 
enemy  were  eagerly  watching  for  an  op 
portunity  to  cross.  Greene  did  not  pro 
pose  to  dispute  the  passage,  but  deter 
mined  to  retard  it  with  a  few  militia,  in 
order  to  give  his  main  body  an  opportu 
nity  of  securing  a  safe  retreat.  His  only 
policy,  with  his  meager  and  ill-conditioned 
force,  was  to  retire  before  his  formidable 
antagonist  until  he  could  form  a  junction 
with  the  rest  of  his  troops  on  their  march 
to  Salisbury. 

The  river  having  now  become 
fordable,  both  armies  made  ar 
rangements  to  move  accordingly.  The 
general-in-chief  ordered  Morgan  to  march 


Jan,  31, 


in  the  evening  with  the  main  body,  and 
make  all  speed  away,  while  he  himself 
remained  behind  to  superintend  the  op 
erations  at  the  river.  Two  hundred  of 
the  militia  were  distributed  at  the  vari 
ous  fords  ;  while  the  rest,  some  three  hun 
dred  in  number,  skilful  riflemen,  under 
General  Davidson,  were  stationed  along 
the  banks  of  the  stream,  in  order  to  watch 
the  movement  of  the  enemy,  and  harass 
them  whenever  and  wherever  they  should 
cross. 

Cornwallis  wisely  chose  the  night  for 
making  the  passage  ;  and,  in  order  to  de 
ceive  the  Americans,  he  sent  a  detach 
ment,  under  Colonels  Webster  and  Tarle- 
ton,  to  cross  without  concealment  at  Beat- 
tie's  ford,  as  if  this  were  the  chosen  route, 
while  he  should  throw  his  main  body  si 
lently  over  at  Gowan's.  Hoping  to  find 
this  unfrequented  ford  without  guard,  his 
van  bewail  to  cross  at  one  o'clock  in  the 

o 

morning.     The  night  was  exces- 

.  „  1  el),  I, 

sively  (Lark  and  rainy.     General 

Davidson,  however,  not  deceived  by  the 
earl's  manoeuvre,  was  on  the  alert,  on  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  river,  with  his  rifle 
men  hid  under  the  cover  of  the  woods, 
ready  to  meet  the  enemy  with  their  fatal 
and  unexpected  fire. 

The  British  troops  found  they  could 
not  move  with  the  ease  and  rapidity  that 
they  expected.  The  approach  to  the  ford 
was  through  a  woody  swamp ;  and  the 
wheels  sank  so  deeply  into  the  marsh, 
that  great  delay  wras  occasioned  in  get 
ting  the  artillery-carriages  forward.  The 
van  of  the  troops,  however,  passed  on  into 
the  river,  followed  immediately  by  Corn 
wallis  in  person,  as  it  was  feared  that  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


TARLETON  AFTER  THE  FUGITIVES. 


829 


Btrearn  might  again  become  so  swollen  by 
the  rain  which  was  falling  as  to  render  it 
un  ford  able. 

The  Catawba  at  this  point  was  about 
five  hundred  yards  in  width;  and  the  cur 
rent  was  so  rapid,  and  the  bed  of  the  river 
so  rough  with  loose  stones,  that  the  men 
were  obliged  to  support  each  other  by 
keeping  in  close  ranks,  lest  they  should 
be  thrown  down  and  swept  away  by  the 
stream.  The  noisy  turbulence  of  the  wa 
ters,  and  the  exceeding  darkness  of  the 
night,  prevented  their  approach  from  be 
ing  discovered  until  they  had  proceeded 
nearly  halfway  across, when  an  American 
sentry,  having  first  challenged  them  three 
times,  fired. 

The  guide,  hearing  the  whistling  of  the 
balls,  and  finding  that  the  ford  was  guard 
ed,  suddenly  became  alarmed  and  fled, 
leaving  the  troops  to  find  their  way  over 
by  themselves.  Colonel  Hale,  who  led 
the  van  at  the  head  of  the  grenadiers, 
forbidding  his  men  to  fire  till  they  should 
land,  immediately  pushed  on ;  and,  not 
knowing  the  direction  of  the  ford,  which 
crossed  diagonally,  he  followed  a  straight 
course,  by  which  his  men,  though  obliged 
to  flounder  through  much  deeper  water, 
succeeded  in  crossing  in  safety,  and  land 
ing  at  a  point  where  they  were  unexpect 
ed  by  Davidson  and  his  militia.  The  Brit 
ish  were  thus  saved  from  meeting  the  fire 
of  the  American  riflemen,  and  its  effect 
was  accordingly  much  less  disastrous,  al 
though  three  of  the  enemy  were  killed 
and  thirty-six  wounded  by  the  first  vol 
ley.  Colonel  Hale  was  shot  down  as  his 
horse  was  springing  to  the  bank.  Lord 
Cornwallis  himself  had  a  narrow  escape, 


for  a  rifle-ball  wounded  his  horse  in  the 
midst  of  the  stream,  although  the  spirited 
animal  bore  his 'rider  safely  to  the  shore, 
and  then  fell  dead. 

General  Davidson  now  shifted  his  po 
sition,  in  order  to  give  his  men  a  more 
direct  aim;  but, in  making  the  movement, 
he  was  brought  between  the  light  of  his 
own  fires  and  the  advancing  columns  of 
the  British,  who  had  landed  in  numbers. 
Before  he  could  form,  the  enemy  pressed 
forward,  and,  having  killed  or  wounded 
about  forty  of  the  Americans,  put  the  re 
mainder  to  flight.  Davidson  himself  was 
shot  dead  while  mounting  his  horse  to 
follow  his  little  band  of  riflemen. 

No  sooner  had  Cornwallis  crossed  the 
Catawba, than  he  ordered  Tarleton  in  pur 
suit  of  the  fugitives.  This  bold  colonel  of 
dragoons  was  immediately  in  his  saddle, 
and,  pushing  on  with  full  speed  at  the 
head  of  his  troopers,  soon  came  upon  the 
traces  of  those  whom  he  sought.  About 
a  hundred  of  the  militia,  having  reached 
a  tavern  some  ten  miles  from  the  river,  in 
cautiously  tarried  there  to  refresh  them 
selves.  Suddenly  the  videttes  came  gal 
loping  in,  with  the  cry,  "Tarleton  is  upon 
us  !"  The  militia  hurried  to  their  horses, 
and  had  scarcely  mounted,  when,  surely 
enough,  the  British  dragoons  were  seen 
hastening  down  the  road.  The  American 
riflemen,  checking  their  steeds  a  moment, 
rose  in  their  stirrups,  and,  turning  upon 
their  enemy,  fired  one  volley  from  their 
never-missing  rifles,  and  then  galloped  ofi 
at  full  speed.  Tarleton,  angered  by  this 
Parthian  shot,  by  which  seven  of  his  dra 
goons  and  twenty  horses  had  fallen,  now 
quickened  his  pace,  and  succeeded  in  com 


830 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  u. 


ing  up  with  some  of  the  laggards  in  the 
rear,  who  were  badly  mounted,  and  cut- 
tin"1  down  about  a  score  of  them. 

O 

General  Greene  himself,  accompanied 
only  by  his  suite  of  officers,  was  but  seven 
miles  farther  on  the  road,  where  Tarleton 
could  have  readily  captured  him  had  he 
known  of  his  whereabouts.  The  Ameri-'< 
can  commander  awaited  the  arrival  of  Da 
vidson  and  his  men,  but  waited  in  vain, 
until  midnight,  when  finally,  with  a  heavy 
heart,  he  rode  on  to  Salisbury. 

"As  Greene  made  his  appearance  at 
Steele's  tavern,"  says  his  biographer,  who 
describes  the  incident,  "  the  disordered 
state  of  his  garments,  the  stiffness  of  his 
limbs,  the  languor  of  His  movements,  the 
dejection  of  his  mood  and  manner,  became 
painfully  apparent  to  every  eye.  Ap 
proaching  him,  as  he  alighted  from  his 
horse,  his  friend  Doctor  Read  addressed 
him  with  inquiries  of  most  anxious  solici 
tude;  to  which  he  replied,  not  able  to  re 
press  his  anguish,  that  he  came  alone,  ex 
hausted,  penniless,  and  hungry.  The  re 
ply  did  not  escape  the  ears  of  the  excel 
lent  landlady.  His  breakfast  was  soon 
prepared  and  smoking;  and  he  had  scarce 
ly  finished  it,  when  she  presented  herself; 
closed  the  door  of  the  apartment,  and, 
producing  a  small  bag  of  specie  in  each 
hand,  she  forced  them  upon  him. 

"'Take  them,'  said  the  noble  woman; 
'you  will  need,  and  I  can  do  without  the 
money.' 

"  Never  did  help  come  at  a  better  sea 
son.  An  acquisition  so  important  to  the 
public  service  was  not  to  be  rejected 
through  scruples  of  mere  delicacy ;  and 
Greene  rose  from  the  breakfast-table,  no 


Feb.  2. 


longer  penniless — no  longer  succumbing 
to  the  condition  which  had  made  him  feel 
himself  so  utterly  alone."* 

From  Salisbury,  Greene  (having  first 
sent  word  to  General  Huger  to  hasten  on 
with  his  division  of  the  army  to  Guilford 
courthouse)  rode  forward  to  join  Morgan, 
whom  he  overtook  in  the  even 
ing,  just  as  he  was  about  crossing 
the  Yadkin.  Lord  Cornwallis  was  push 
ing  on  close  after  him ;  and  an  advance 
detachment,  under  General  O'Hara,  came 
up  so  rapidly,  that  it  overtook  the  rear  of 
the  Americans,  with  whom  it  had  a  brisk 
skirmish  as  they  were  crossing  the  river. 
Greene  having,  by  a  happy  foresight,  se 
cured  all  the  boats  and  "flats,"  and  the 
rains  in  the  meanwhile  having  flooded  the 
stream  so  as  to  render  it  unfordable,  the 
British  had  the  provocation,  as  previously 
at  the  Catawba,  of  beholding  their  enemy 
passing  over  during  the  night  and  early 
the  next  morning,  without  being  able  to 
follow  or  harass  them.  General  O'Hara, 
however,  succeeded  in  capturing  a  few 
baggage-wagons,  which  the  Americans 
were  unable  to  take  across  before  he  ar 
rived. 

Earl  Cornwallis,  on  coming  up  to  the 
western  bank  of  the  Yadkin,  and  finding 
it  impracticable  to  cross  at  that 
point,  inarched  along  the  shore 
for  a  distance  of  twenty-five  miles,  until 
he  reached  the  upper  fords,  which  still 
remained  passable.  He  now  crossed  the 
river,  and  commenced  a  rapid  pursuit  o* 
the  Americans,  determined  to  force  them 
to  fight  before  they  could  get  reinforce 
ments  from  Virginia.  His  lordship's  de- 

*  Simms. 


Feb.  3, 


R  EVOLUTION  ART.] 


THE  FLIGHT  ACROSS  THE  DAN. 


831 


Fcl),  7, 


lay  enabled  Greene  and  Morgan  to  reach 
Guilford  courthouse  and  refresh 
their  troops,  where  two  days  af 
terward  they  were  joined  by  General  lin 
ger  with  his  division,  whose  march  from 
the  Pedee  had  been  one  of  great  trial  and 
suffering. 

General  Greene's  object  was  not  mere 
ly  to  escape  from  Cornwallis,  but  also  to 
entice  him  forward  in  pursuit,  with  the 
hope  of  getting  him  into  the  interior  of 
the  country,  where  his  resources  would 


be  exhausted,  and  the  inhabitants  would 
rise  in  resistance.  Thus,  the  American 
commander  halted  at  the  Catawba  until 
the  British  were  able  to  march;  and  then, 
again,  he  lingered  on  the  banks  of  the 
Yadkin.  Cornwallis,  having  forded  the 
river,  encamped  at  Salem,  on  the  same 
side  of  the  Yadkin  with  the  Americans, 
and  about  twenty-five  miles  from  Guil 
ford  courthouse,  then  the  capital  of  Guil 
ford  county,  North  Carolina,  where  Gen 
eral  Greene  had  halted  with  his  army. 


CHAPTER   XCYII. 

To  fight,  or  not  to  fight? — Retreat  of  General  Greene  continued. — Across  the  Dan. — The  Light-Corps. — Ingenious  Rnse. 
— Good  Service. — Otho  Williams. — Suffering  from  Cold. — Blood  on  the  Ground. — Cornwallis  retires  to  Hillsborough. 
— A  Patriotic  Woman. — Watching  the  Enemy. — Greene  recrosses  the  Dan. — A  Campaign  in  North  Carolina. — Pick- 
ens  and  Lee  after  Tarleton. — Attempt  at  a  Surprise.— The  Enemy  gone  ! — Another  Attempt. — Enemies  for  Friends. 
— Success. — A  Bloody  Conflict. — No  Mercy. 


1781, 


THE  self-reliant  Greene,  with  un 
usual  deference  to  the  opinion  of 
others,  called  a  council  of  war,  and  sub 
mitted  to  his  officers  the  question  wheth 
er  it  was  expedient  to  fight  the  enemy. 
The  Americans  numbered  but  two  thou 
sand  and  thirty-six  men  fit  for  duty.  The 
British  were  three  thousand.  The  latter 
were  all  well-disciplined  regulars,  fully 
supplied  with  provisions,  clothing,  and 
ammunition,  and  in  perfect  fighting  or 
der.  About  five  hundred  of  the  former 
were  militia,  and  all  were  but  half  clothed, 
half  fed,  and  much  discouraged  by  their 
long  flight.  The  council,  with  one  mind, 
agreed  that  it  was  expedient  to  continue 
the  retreat  to  Virginia. 


Greene's  purpose  was  now  with  the  ut 
most  despatch  to  reach  the  river  Dan, 
which,  rising  in  the  mountains  of  Yirginia, 
flows  in  its  winding  course  into  North 
Carolina,  and  thence  back  again  into  the 
former  state.  He  hoped,  by  crossing  this 
stream,  and  putting  its  waters  between 
him  and  his  pursuers,  to  gain  sufficient 
time  to  gather  such  reinforcements  as 
would  enable  him  to  stem  the  progress  of, 
and  perhaps  drive  back,  the  formidable 
Cornwallis.  The  American  commander, 
with  his  usual  foresight,  had  made  pro 
vision  for  a  supply  of  boats,  and  was  thus 
enabled  to  direct  his  course  over  the  low 
er  and  deeper  part  of  the  Dan ;  while  his 
enemy,  unconscious  of  his  resources,  be- 


BATTLES  OF  AME1UCA. 


[PAKT    II. 


lieved  that  his  only  practicable  route  was 
across  the  upper  fords,  which  alone  were 
passable  in  that  season  of  freshet. 

To  protect  his  retreat,  and  to  conceal 
its  direction  from  the  enemy,  General 
Greene  formed  a  light-corps  of  seven  hun 
dred  men,  made  up  of  some  of  the  choicest 
infantry  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  How 
ard  ;  of  Lee's  legion,  which  had  joined 
Huger  on  his  march  to  Guilford  court 
house  ;  of  the  cavalry  of  Colonel  Wash 
ington  ;  and  of  a  few  mounted  militia  ri 
flemen.  While  Greene  hurried  forward 
with  the  main  body  to  the  Dan,  the  light- 
corps  was  ordered  to  keep  between  him 
and  Cornwallis,  and  so  to  direct  its  move 
ments  as  to  give  the  enemy  the  idea  that 
it  composed  the  rear  of  the  army,  and 
was  pursuing  the  same  route,  while  its 
course  should  be  devious,  and  tending  as 
it  were  to  the  upper  fords  of  the  river. 
The  command  of  this  corps  was  offered 
to  General  Morgan,  but  he  refused  it,  as 
he  had  determined  to  retire  from  the  ar 
my,  in  consequence  of  illness.*  Colonel 
Otho  Williams,  of  Maryland,  was  then  ap 
pointed. 

The  service  of  these  troops,  under  their 
spirited  and  skilful  commander,  was  of 
signal  benefit.  Lord  Cornwallis  was  de 
luded  by  the  judicious  manoeuvres  of  Wil 
liams.  While  the  light-corps  was  now  here 
and  now  there — at  one  time  halting  for 
a  skirmish  with  the  British  vanguard,  and 
again  retiring  before  the  approach  of  the 
main  body — his  lordship  believed  that 

0  Morgan  soon  after  resigned  his  commission.  In  1794, 
lie  commanded  the  militia  of  Virginia,  called  out  to  aid  in 
suppressing  the  whiskey  insurrection  in  Pennsylvania,  and 
continued  in  the  service  until  the  following  year.  He  was 
alter  ward  elected  to  a  seat  in  Congress.  He  died  in  1799. 


he  had  the  whole  American  army  before 
him,  and  concentrated  all  his  attention 
upon  Colonel  Williams  and  his  seven  hun 
dred  men. 

Greene,  in  the  meantime,  was  pursuing 
his  route  to  the  river  Dan,  without  the 
least  obstruction  from  the  enemy.  Other 
difficulties,  however,  beset  him  on  his  toil 
some  and  painful  march.  The  cold  had 
become  intense,  and  the  rough  roads  fro 
zen  so  hard,  that  the  soldiers,  who  were 
generally  barefoot,  left  the  tracks  of  their 
bruised  feet  in  blood  upon  the  ground ! 
Clothing  was  so  scarce,  that  few  of  the 
men  had  coats  to  their  backs ;  and  in  the 
best-supplied  corps  a  single  blanket  was 
the  allowance  of  covering  during  those 
nights  of  winter  for  four  men.  But  the 
troops  bore  up  manfully  against  every 
trial,  and  after  a  weary  march  of  four 
days  they  reached  Irwin's  ferry, 
on  the  river  Dan,  seventy  miles 
from  Guilford.  Here  boats  were  found 
in  readiness,  and  General  Greene  imme 
diately  threw  his  army  across  the  river; 
while  he  sent  word  to  Williams  to  come 
up  with  his  light  detachment.  With  con 
summate  skill  and  daring,  this  brave  sol 
dier  had  kept  his  handful  of  troops  far  in 
the  rear  of  his  commander,  and  almost  in 
the  very  grasp  of  Lord  Cornwallis.  He 
had  now  a  march  of  forty  miles  to  make, 
with  the  whole  British  army  after  him, 
before  he  could  reach  the  western  bank 
of  the  Dan. 

These  forty  miles,  along  a  deep  and 
broken  road,  incrusted  with  ice,  Williams 
accomplished  in  four-and-twenty  hours. 
Lee,  who  brought  up  the  rear  of  the  de 
tachment,  crossed  the  ferry  (Boyd's)  with 


Feb. 13. 


BKVOLDTIOXARY.] 


GENERAL  GREENE  RECROSSES  THE  DAN. 


833 


Fcb,  14. 


his  last  troop  of  horse,  at  nine 
o'clock  at  night,  and  landed  on 
the  eastern  bank,  as  the  British  dragoons 
in  advance  rode  down  to  the  shore  which 
he  had  just  left!  "So  tangible  was  the 
hand  of  Providence  in  this,"  says  Lossing, 
"  that  it  was  regarded  throughout  the 
whole  country  as  a  mark  of  special  favor 
to  the  American  cause,  and  in  no  small 
degree  strengthened  the  hopes  of  the  re 
publicans.  During  this  retreat  of  nearly 
two  hundred  miles,  not  a  single  man  de 
serted  from  the  American  ranks.  This 
fact  is  well  established  by  official  reports, 
yet  a  late  British  writer  has  asserted  that 
'  the  militia  had  nearly  all  deserted  Gen 
eral  Greene'  when  he  reached  the  Dan." 
Lord  Cornwallis  thus  foiled  in  his  at 
tempt  to  overtake  Greene,  and  finding  it 
neither  easy  nor  safe  to  follow  him  into 
Virginia,  sullenly  retired  southward  from 
the  banks  of  the  Dan  to  Hillsborough,  in 
North  Carolina.  Here  he  established  a 
camp,  raised  the  royal  standard,  and  by 
proclamation  invited  the  inhabitants  to 
repair  to  it.  The  loyalists  of  Hillsbor- 
oiiffh  and  its  neighborhood  did  not  come 

o  o 

forward  to  enroll  themselves  as  freely  as 
was  expected.  "  Hundreds,"  wrote  Colo 
nel  Tarleton,  "  rode  into  the  camp  to  talk 
over  the  proclamation,  inquire  the  news 
of  the  day,  and  take  a  view  of  the  king's 
troops.  Some  of  the  more  zealous  prom 
ised  to  raise  companies,  and  even  regi 
ments,  but  their  followers  and  depend 
ants  were  slow  to  enlist."  His  lordship 
accordingly  sent  Tarleton,  with  five  hun 
dred  troops,  to  beat  up  the  country  be 
tween  Haw  and  Deep  Rivers,  for  loyal 
recruits. 

105 


In  the  meanwhile,  General  Greene  was 
refreshing  and  strengthening  his  wearied 
army  in  the  fertile  county  of  Halifax,  in 
Virginia,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  friendly 
population.  Apprized  of  the  movement 
of  Cornwallis,  by  means  of  a  white  hand 
kerchief,  which  a  patriotic  woman  dis 
played  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Dan, 
according  to  her  promise,  showing  the 
departure  of  the  enemy,  Greene  now  de 
spatched  across  the  river  a  body  of  light> 
troops,  under  Pickens  and  Lee,  to  watch 
their  manoeuvres.  Soon  after,  he 
himself  followed  with  his  whole 
army,  anxious  to  counteract,  if  possible, 
by  a  show  of  force,  the  influence  which 
Cornwallis,  according  to  an  exaggerated 
rumor,  was  exercising  upon  the  inhabit 
ants  of  North  Carolina,  to  whom  even  the 
patriots  were  disposed  to  submit  while 
there  was  no  army  in  the  state  to  sustain 
their  cause. 

Pickens  and  Lee  had  been  ordered  to 
gain  the  front  of  Cornwallis;  to  place 
themselves  as  close  to  him  as  safety  would 
permit;  to  interrupt  his  communication 
with  the  country;  to  repress  the  medi 
tated  rising  of  the  loyalists ;  and,  at  all 
events,  to  intercept  any  party  of  them 
which  might  attempt  to  join  the  enemy. 

Greene  was  so  anxious  that  his  plans 
should  be  faithfully  executed,  that,  re 
gardless  of  danger  and  fatigue,  he  crossed 
the  Dan  in  advance  of  his  army,  accom 
panied  only  by  a  small  escort  of  cavalry, 
and  rode  on  until  he  overtook  Pickens 
and  Lee,  with  whom  he  passed  the  night 
in  busy  consultation.  Early  the  next  day 
he  was  again  across  the  river,  preparing 
to  move  his  army  from  its  comfortable 


834 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


quarters  in  Virginia,  and  once  more  ex 
pose  them  to  the  trials  and  uncertainties 
of  a  campaign  in  North  Carolina. 

In  the  meantime,  Pickens  and  Lee,  on 
the  alert  for  service,  eagerly  caught  at 
the  news,  brought  in  by  a  scout,  that 
Tarleton  was  out  with  horse,  foot,  and  ar 
tillery,  and  was  moving  toward  the  Haw. 
Pickens  and  Lee  resolved  on  an  attempt 
at  a  surprise,  and  hastened  to  the  river, 
which  they  forded  on  hearing  that  Tarle 
ton  had  already  crossed.  A  countryman 
was  overtaken  at  noon  by  the  roadside, 
from  whom  it  was  learned  that  the  British 
colonel  was  encamped  only  three  miles  in 
advance,  where,  with  his  horses  unsaddled, 
he  was  apparently  resting  in  confident  se 
curity.  Lee  and  Pickens  were  now  hope 
ful  of  success,  and,  immediately  disposing 
their  troops  in  order  for  attack, cautiously 
moved  through  the  woods  to  the  place 
where  they  expected  to  pounce  upon  an 
unsuspecting  enemy. 

The  movement  was  conducted  prompt 
ly  and  carefully,  and  without  an  untoward 
occurrence  they  soon  came  in  sight  of  the 
farm  and  farmhouse,  the  "  expected  thea 
tre  of  glory,"  when,  lo  and  behold !  the 
enemy  had  gone.  Two  of  Tarle ton's  staff- 
officers,  however,  who  had  remained  be 
hind  to  settle  for  provisions,  were  taken 
prisoners ;  and  from  them  it  was  learned 
that  their  commander  would  not  proceed 
more  than  six  miles  farther.  It  was  de 
termined  therefore  to  follow  at  once,  and 
make  another  effort  to  entrap  the  wily 
colonel  of  dragoons. 

In  order  to  give  success  to  this  second 
attempt,  it  was  resolved,  if  possible,  to 
pass  as  a  reinforcement  sent  from  Hills- 


borough  to  the  aid  of  Tarleton.  The  two 
British  officers  who  had  been  captured 
were  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  cavalry, 
and  ordered  to  give  color  to  the  decep 
tion  ;  while  the  sergeant  in  charge  was 
directed  to  shoot  them  down  at  once,  in 
case  of  the  least  demonstration  to  the  con 
trary.  The  country-people,  though  famil 
iar  with  the  sight  of  the  British  troops, 
were  less  likely  to  detect  the  stratagem, 
since  Lee's  legion, both  cavalry  and  infan 
try,  with  their  short  green  coats  and  their 
accoutrements,  had  very  much  the  look 
of  the  enemy's  lightrcorps. 

The  effect  of  the  ruse  was  soon  mani 
fest.  Two  young  Carolina  loyalists  came 
riding  up  the  road,  and,  being  accosted  by 
the  hoi  semen  in  advance,  in  their  assumed 
character  of  British  officers,  expressed 
their  joy  at  the  meeting,  and  freely  de 
clared  that  they  had  been  sent  forward  to 
find  out  Tarleton's  encampment  by  Colo 
nel  Pyle,  who  was  on  his  way  with  four 
hundred  loyalists  to  join  that  officer. 

While  the  two  young  men  were  being 
conducted  to  Lieutenant-Colonel  Lee, 
Pickens  was  requested  to  keep  his  rifle 
men  on  the  left  flank,  well  concealed  in 
the  woods,  as  the  green  twigs  in  their 
hats  (which  the  southern  patriot  militia 
always  wore  as  a  distinguishing  mark) 
would  cause  them  to  be  recognised,  and 
defeat  the  stratagem. 

Lee  so  skilfully  kept  up  the  deception, 
that  the  youths  took  him  for  Tarleton 
himself.  One  of  them  was  now  sent  back 
with  the  compliments  of  the  pretended 
British  colonel,  and  a  request  to  Colonel 
Pyle  that  he  would  draw  out  his  troops 
along  the  margin  of  the  road,  in  order  to 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        LEE'S  RUSE.— SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  LOYALISTS. 


835 


give  room  for  the  expected  British  force 
to  pass  at  once  without  delay.  The -oth 
er  tory  was  kept  by  the  side  of  Lee  him 
self  as  a  guide;  and,  as  they  rode  on  to 
gether,  the  youthful  loyalist  was  profuse 
in  his  expression  of  respectful  devotion 
to  the  fictitious  Tarleton,  and  full  of  glee 
at  the  prospect  of  the  junction  with  Colo 
nel  Pyle.  In  the  meantime,  his  comrade, 
who  had  but  a  short  distance  to  go,  gal 
loped  back,  after  having  successfully  ac 
complished  his  errand.  He  brought  word 
from  the  tory  commander  that  he  would 
"  be  happy  to  comply  with  the  wishes  of 
Colonel  Tarleton." 

Colonel  Pyle  and  his  loyalists  were  now 
soon  in  sight,  on  the  right  of  the  road, 
drawn  up  as  had  been  requested  by  the 
pretended  Tarleton.  Lee  had  concluded, 
as  he  himself  states,  "to  make  known  to 
the  colonel  his  real  character  as  soon  as 
he  should  confront  him,  with  a  solemn  as 
surance  of  his  and  his  associates'  perfect 
exemption  from  injury,  with  the  choice 
of  returning  to  their  homes,  or  of  taking 
a  more  generous  part,  by  uniting  with  the 
defenders  of  their  common  country  against 
the  common  foe."  But,  unfortunately  for 
Pyle,  the  position  of  his  troops,  on  the 
right  side  of  the  road,  made  it  necessary 
for  Lee  to  pass  along  the  whole  line  of 
the  loyalists  before  he  could  reach  him  at 
the  head  of  his  men. 

The  loyalists  presented  a  fair  array  of 
sturdy  yeomen,  mounted  on  good,  ser 
viceable  nags,  and  with  their  rifles  and 
fowling-pieces  slung  across  their  right 
shoulders.  They  were  advantageously 
placed  for  the  republicans,  in  the  event 
of  a  sudden  discovery  of  the  ruse;  for  the 


muzzles  of  their  pieces  being  in  an  oppo 
site  direction  to  the  approach  of  Lee's  cav 
alry,  they  could  not  fire  without  a  change 
in  their  position,  which  was  not  very  easy 
to  be  effected,  with  a  body  of  dragoons, 
with  drawn  swords,  "  close  in  with  their 
horses'  heads." 

"  I  passed  along  the  line,"  writes  Lee, 
"  at  the  head  of  the  column,  with  a  smi 
ling  countenance,  dropping  occasionally 
expressions  complimentary  to  the  good 
looks  and  commendable  conduct  of  my 
loyalist  friends.  At  length  I  reached  Colo 
nel  Pyle,  when  the  customary  civilities 
were  promptly  interchanged.  Grasping 
Pyle  by  the  hand,  I  was  in  the  act  of  con 
summating  my  plan,  when  the  enemy's 
left,  discovering  Pickens's  militia,  not  suf 
ficiently  concealed,  began  to  fire  upon  the 
rear  of  the  cavalry  commanded  by  Captain 
Eggleston.  This  officer  instantly  turned 
upon  the  foe,  as  did  immediately  after  the 
whole  column. 

"  The  conflict  was  quickly  decided,  and 
bloody  on  one  side  only.  Ninety  of  the 
royalists  were  killed,  and  most  of  the  sur 
vivors  wounded.  Dispersing  in  every  di 
rection,  not  being  pursued,  these  escaped. 
During  this  sudden  rencontre,  in  some 
parts  of  the  line  the  cry  of '  Mercy  !'  was 
heard,  coupled  with  the  assurance  of  be 
ing  our  best  friends  ;  but  no  expostulation 
could  be  admitted  in  a  conjuncture  so  criti 
cal.  Humanity  even  forbade  it,  as  its  first 
injunction  is  to  care  for  your  own;  and 
our  safety  was  not  compatible  with  that 
of  the  supplicants,  until  disabled  to  offend. 
Pyle,  falling  under  many  wounds,  was  left 
on  the  field  as  dying,  and  yet  he  survived. 
We  lost  not  a  man,  and  only  one  horse." 


836 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


CHAPTER   XCVIII. 

Lee  and  Pickens  up  with  Tavleton.— His  Escape.— Lord  Cornwallis  thwarted.— He  shifts  his  Quarters.— General  Greene 
in  Pursuit.— Success  of  the  Guerilla  Leaders.— Williams  pursued.— Greene  reinforced.— Repose.— Policy  of  the  Tories. 
—Greene  at  Guilford  Courthouse.— He  awaits  Battle.— Cornwallis  accepts  the  Challenge.— Tarleton  put  to  Flight.— 
Renewal  of  the  Engagement.— Order  of  Battle.— First  Success  of  the  British.— Charge  of  Colonel  Washington.— A 
Desperate  Manoeuvre  of  Cornwallis.— Friends  and  Foes.— Hard-earned  Victory  of  the  Enemy.— Orderly  Retreat  of  the 
Americans.— The  Losses.— A  Terrible  Night. 


1781. 


LEE'S  troopers,  while  their  sabres 
were  dripping  with  the  blood  of 
Colonel  Pyle's  loyalists,  were  again  on  the 
road,  led  by  their  spirited  commander, 
still  panting  for  action.  Tarleton,  whom 
Lee  was  always  most  eager  to  meet,  was 
within  a  few  miles  of  him;  and  he  now 
hastened  to  overtake  him.  A  short  ride 
brought  the  leading  horseman  in  sight  of 
the  British  camp.  As  soon  as  Pickens 
came  up  with  his  militia,  the  two  com 
manders  consulted  anxiously  together. 

The  sun  was  setting,  and  for  awhile 
Lee  and  Pickens  hesitated  whether  im 
mediate  action,  even  at  that  late  hour, 
was  not  the  most  eligible.  The  troops, 
however,  being  fatigued,  and  the  night 
fast  approaching,  it  was  determined  to  put 
off  the  attack  until  the  next  day.  Sev 
eral  hours  before  dawn,  Lee  and  his  le 
gion  were  in  their  saddles,  and,  lighted 
by  naming  pine-torches,  advanced  along 
the  road  to  reconnoitre. 

Tarleton  was  equally  on  the  alert.  He 
andhisofficers,having  supped  gayly,were 
anxiously  longing  for  the  dawn  of  day, 
that  they  might  revenge  themselves  for 
the  slaughter  of  Pyle's  tories,  when  a  mes 
senger  rode  in  haste  from  Lord  Cornwal 
lis,  with  orders  for  Tarleton  to  recross  the 


Haw  without  delay.  Soon  after,  came 
two  other  hurried  riders,  on  the  same 
mission,  so  fearful  was  his  lordship  (who 
had  heard  of  Greene's  return  to  North 
Carolina,  and  of  the  movements  of  Lee 
and  Pickens)  lest  his  indispensable  colo 
nel  of  dragoons  should  be  surprised  and 
cut  off  with  all  his  force.  Tarleton  now, 
in  obedience  to  orders,  thought  only  of 
escape,  and  by  a  prompt  movement  suc 
ceeded  in  crossing  the  Haw  before  Lee 
and  Pickens  could  come  up  with  him.  He 
then  rejoined  in  safety  the  main  body  of 
the  British,  under  Cornwallis. 

The  earl  was  so  thwarted  in  his  plans 
by  the  return  of  Greene  to  Carolina,  and 
the  terror  produced  in  the  country  by 
the  bloody  catastrophe  of  the  royalists 
under  Pyle,  that  he  was  forced  to  change 
his  tactics.  The  tories,  moreover,  were 
so  discouraged,  that  few  were  now  wil 
ling  to  serve  ;  and  many,  who  had  already 
corne  out  to  join  his  lordship,  returned  to 
their  homes,  prudently  to  await  the  issue 
of  events.  Finding  himself,  as  he  wrote, 
"among  timid  friends,  and  adjoining  to 
inveterate  rebels,"  at  Hillsborough,  he  re 
solved  to  shift  his  quarters,  and  march  in 
to  a  neighborhood  where  he  hoped  to  find 
stronger  and  more  srenerous  adherents  of 

o  O 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       GREENE  REINFORCED.— PRELIMINARY  MOVEMENTS. 


837 


Feb.  26, 


the  royal  cause.  Accordingly, 
the  British  commander  crossed 
the  Haw  with  his  army,  and  took  a  posi 
tion  near  Allamance  creek. 

General  Greene,  following  the  move  of 
Lord  Cornwallis,  crossed  the  Haw  near 
its  source,  and  encamped  between  Trou 
blesome  creek  and  Reedy  fork,  about  fif 
teen  miles  above  the  British  position.  At 
the  same  time,  the  American  commander 
threw  out  his  light-corps  under  Colonel 
Williams,  aided  by  Pickens  and  Lee,  to 
hover  near  the  enemy.  These  active  gue 
rilla  leaders  met  with  their  usual  success. 
Rapidly  moving  here  and  there  about  the 
foe,  they  harassed  him  in  every  possible 
manner — cutting  oif  his  supplies,  inter 
cepting  his  messengers,  capturing  his  for- 
aging-parties,  skirmishing  with  his  ad 
vanced  troops,  embarrassing  his  marches, 
and  exhausting  not  only  his  resources, 
but  his  spirit  and  patience.  His  lordship, 
tired  of  this  annoyance,  strove  to  surprise 
Williams's  force,  and  by  a  sudden  blow  to 
crush  it  at  once  while  too  remote  to  de 
rive  any  support  from  the  main  body  un 
der  Greene  ;  or  to  steal  a  march  upon  the 
former,  and,  interposing  himself  between 
the  two,  force  the  latter  into  action  in  de 
fence  of  the  advanced  detachment. 

Williams,  though  uninformed  of  this 
movement  of  Cornwallis,  was  so  vigilant 
ly  guarded,  that  the  approach  of 
his  lordship  was  discovered  when 
within  two  miles  of  the  camp.  A  rapid 
mase  ensued  across  Reedy  fork  to  Wet- 
zul's  mills.  Williams,  however,  with  his 
start  ahead,  succeeded  in  distancing  his 
competitor,  and,  gaining  the  opposite  side 
of  the  stream,  strove  to  hold  his  ground, 


March  G, 


but  was  obliged  to  give  way  before  the 
superior  numbers  of  the  British.  In  the 
meanwhile,  General  Greene,  having  been 
informed,  by  a  timely  message  from  Wil 
liams,  of  the  approach  of  Cornwallis,  had 
retreated  across  the  Haw,  where  he  was 
soon  joined  by  Williams,  whom  the  enemy 
had  ceased  to  pursue. 

General  Greene  encamped  on  Trouble 
some  creek,  and  awaited  reinforcements. 
Soon  came  in  Lieutenant-Colonel  Greene, 
with  his  new  levies  ;  Brigadier-General 
Lawson,  with  the  Virginia  militia ;  Camp 
bell,  Preston,  and  Lynch,  with  their  corps, 
six  hundred  strong;  followed  by  the  mi 
litia  of  North  Carolina,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Brigadier-Generals  Butler  and 
Eaton.  Thus  was  mustered  a  force  of 
four  thousand  five  hundred  in  all,  horse, 
foot,  and  artillery,  of  which  sixteen  hun 
dred  men  were  regulars,  though  mostly 
raw  recruits.  Greene,  glad  of  the  oppor 
tunity  given  him  by  the  temporary  inac 
tivity  of  Cornwallis,  gave  his  troops  re 
pose,  and  sought  to  drill  and  organize  his 
new  levies  for  the  conflict,  which  he  did 
not  care  long  to  postpone,  now  that  he 
was  reinforced,  and  well  supplied  with 
stores  and  provisions. 

Hitherto,  the  fluctuations  in  numbers, 
of  Greene's  little  army,  caused  by  the  in 
stability  of  the  militia,  who  were  chiefly 
volunteers — and  who,  the  general  said, 
"after  every  little  skirmish,  went  home 
to  tell  the  news" — had  led  him  to  be  ex 
ceedingly  cautious  and  circumspect,  and 
to  employ  the  Fabian  policy  of  warfare 
which  he  had  learned  from  Washington  ; 
but,now  that  he  had  substantial  reinforce 
ments,  in  regular  recruits  from  Virginia 


838 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


and  North  Carolina,  he  felt  strong  enough 
to  oope  with  Cornwallis,  and  earnestly  de 
sired  an  engagement. 

His  lordship,  failing  in  his  attempt  to 
interpose  himself  between  Williams  and 
Greene,  and  thus  force  the  latter  to  a  dis 
advantageous  conflict,  retired  to  Bell's 
mill,  on  Deep  river,  where,  in  the  repose 
of  the  camp,  he  sought  to  refresh  his 
troops,  until  an  opportunity  should  offer 
to  try  his  strength  with  his  energetic  an 
tagonist.  The  British  army  under  his 
immediate  command  now  amounted  to 
only  two  thousand  four  hundred  men,  a 
force  too  small  to  be  frittered  away  by 
skirmishing,  while  there  was  no  imme 
diate  prospect  of  reinforcements.  His 
lordship  could  only  afford  to  expend  his 
strength  in  a  decisive  blow.  The  loyal 
ists  of  the  country  held  back  their  aid,  in 
timid  anxiety  about  the  result.  "They 
determined  to  repress  their  zeal,  and  to 
wait  in  quietude  until  the  British  superi 
ority  should  be  manifested  by  signal  suc 
cess." 

Greene  was  now  prepared,  and  reso 
lutely  bent  upon  meeting  his  antagonist, 
who  had  so  long  striven  to  provoke  him 
to  battle.  Calling  in  his  detachment  of 
dragoons  (which,  under  Colonel  Lee,  had 
been  sticking  close  to  the  British  camp, 
much  to  the  annoyance  of  Cornwallis,  in 
tercepting  his  messengers  and  darting  up 
on  his  foraging-parties),  and  leaving  his 
heavy  baggage  at  the  iron-works  on  Trou 
blesome  creek,  the  American  commander 
now  moved  his  whole  army  ten  miles  in 
War.  14.  advance> to  Guilford  courthouse. 
Here,  taking  his  position  within 
twelve  miles  of  the  camp  of  the  enemy, 


Mar,  15. 


he  calmly  awaited  the  coming  up  of  the 
earl. 

Lord  Cornwallis  did  not  hesitate  to  ac 
cept  the  challenge  which  was  so  distinctly 
proffered  by  this  close  advance  of  Greene. 
The  whole  British  force  was  on 
the  move  at  break  of  day,  and 
before  sunrise  the  advance-guards  of  both 
armies  came  into  collision.  Tarleton  led 
the  one,  Lee  headed  the  other.  With  the 
British  colonel  were  his  troopers,  a  corps 
of  light-infantry,  and  the  Hessian  yo.gcrs. 
"Light-horse  Harry"  was  at  the  head  of 
his  famous  legion  of  horse  and  foot,  to 
gether  with  some  mountaineers  and  Vir 
ginia  militia.  Tarleton  came  riding  up 
leisurely  with  his  troop;  and  Lee,  per 
ceiving  his  approach,  turned  his  force  with 
a  rapid  wheel,  to  get  closer  to  the  camp. 
The  British  took  this  sudden  movement 
for  a  retreat,  and,  firing  their  pistols,  came 
on  at  a  quick  pace,  and  with  a  loud  shout 
charged. 

At  this  moment,  Lee  brought  his  dra 
goons  to  the  right  about,  and  fell  with  the 
whole  weight  of  his  column  upon  the  en 
emy.  Tarleton  sounded  a  retreat  on  the 
instant  he  discovered  that  the  supposed 
fugitives  had  turned  upon  him.  Before 
he  could  escape,  however,  many  of  his 
troopers  were  dismounted,  some  of  them 
killed,  and  others  made  prisoners,  while 
their  horses  were  thrown  to  the  ground. 
The  strong,  active,  and  high-conditioned 
chargers,  with  the  skilful  horsemanship 
of  their  Virginia  riders,  bred  to  the  sad 
dle,  gave  Lee's  legion  much  the  superior 
ity  in  every  contest  with  the  cavalry  of 
Tarleton,  who  was  forced  to  content  him 
self  with  any  sorry  animal  that  he  could 


R  EVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  GUILFORD  COURTHOUSE. 


839 


pick  up,  while  his  troopers  knew  nothing 
of  riding  but  what  they  had  learned  in 
the  barrack-school.  Not  a  single  Ameri 
can  soldier  or  horse  was  injured  in  the 
encounter. 

Tarleton  fled  with  rapidity, hard  pressed 
by  Lee,  wrho  continued  in  pursuit  until  he 
caught  sight  of  the  British  guards  coining 
up,  when  he  ordered  his  cavalry  to  retire. 
The  legion  infantry,  however,  supported 
by  some  Virginia  riflemen,  coming  to  his 
rescue,  Lee  soon  came  to  a  stand,  and, 
after  a  sharp  action  with  the  guards  (as 
he  found  Cornwallis  approaching),  again 
withdrew  toward  the  main  body. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Greene  had  drawn 
up  his  army  in  three  lines  on  a  wooded 
height  near  Guilford  courthouse.  The 
first,  composed  of  the  North-Carolina  mi 
litia,  under  Generals  Butler  and  Eaton, 
was  posted  behind  a  rail-fence,  with  a  long 
and  narrow  open  field  in  front,  and  woods 
in  the  rear  and  on  either  side.  At  some 
distance  in  advance  of  the  militia,  on  the 
road  along  which  the  enemy  were  expect 
ed  to  approach,  stood  two  six-pounders, 
under  Captain  Singleton.  Three  hundred 
yards  behind  the  first  line,  across  the  road, 
and  under  the  cover  of  a  deep  wood,  was 
placed  the  second,  composed  of  the  Vir 
ginia  militia,  under  Generals  Stevens  and 
Lawson.  The  third  line,  made  up  of  the 
four  regiments  of  regulars,  was  thrown 
back  several  hundred  yards  to  the  rear 
of  the  second,  and  posted  in  a  field  on 
the  right  of  the  road.  The  two  Virginia 
regiments  formed  the  right  wing,  under 
the  command  of  Huger,  and  the  two  Ma 
ryland  the  left,  under  Williams.  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Washington  with  his  cav 


alry,  Captain  Kirkwood  with  the  Dela 
ware  company,  and  Colonel  Lynch  with  a 
battalion  of  Virginia  militia,  covered  the 
right  flank ;  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Lee 
with  his  legion,  together  with  some  Vir 
ginia  riflemen  under  Colonel  Campbell, 
covered  the  left.  In  the  rear  of  the  whole 
was  stationed  a  small  park  of  artillery. 

As  the  head  of  the  British  came  up  the 
road,  Captain  Singleton  opened  afire  from 
his  two  six-pounders  in  front  of  the  Ameri 
can  lines,  which  was  briskly  returned  by 
a  cannonade  from  the  enemy's  artillery. 
Cornwallis  came  spiritedly  to  the  attack, 
rapidly  forming  his  whole  force  as  he  ap 
proached  into  one  line.  The  seventy-first 
British  regiment,with  the  Hessian  of  Boxe, 
were  on  the  right,  commanded  by  General 
Leslie,  and  covered  by  the  first  battalion 
of  the  guards,  under  Colonel  Norton.  The 
left,  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Webster,  was  composed  of  the 
twenty-third  and  thirty-third  regiments, 
and  covered  by  General  O'Hara  with  his 
grenadiers  and  the  second  battalion  of  the 
guards.  The  artillery,  supported  by  the 
lightrinfantry  of  the  guards,  and  i\\Q  yagers 
(German  riflemen), moved  along  the  road 
in  the  centre  ;  and  the  cavalry  in  column, 
under  Tarleton,  formed  a  corps  of  obser 
vation  and  reserve  behind. 

As  the  British  regulars  came  steadily 
up,  their  undaunted  look  and  confident 
shouts  struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  the 
inexperienced  North  Carolina  militia/who, 
after  firing,  contrary  to  orders,  some  dis 
tant  shots,  turned  and  fled.  The  officers 
strove  to  rally  them,  but  all  in  vain,  al 
though  not  a  man  had  been  touched  by 
the  enemy's  shots!  Like  a  torrent  they 


840 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


rushed  headlong  through  the  neighboring 
woods,  throwing  away  their  arms,  knap 
sacks,  and  even  canteens !  The  British 
advance  was,  however,  checked  awhile  by 
Lee's  legion,  which  came  up  to  the  sup 
port  of  the  front. 

The  second  line,  composed  of  the  Vir 
ginia  militia,  stood  their  ground  manful 
ly.  Their  commander,  General  Stevens, 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  station  sen 
tinels  behind  them,  with  orders  to  shoot 
down  the  first  man  that  flinched.  Open 
ing  their  ranks  to  allow  the  fugitives  of 
the  first  line  to  make  their  way  in  their 
fright  to  the  rear,  the  Virginians  closed 
again,  and  presented  such  a  firm  front  to 
the  enemy,  that  they  were  forced  to  bring 
up  a  part  of  their  reserve.  The  Virgin 
ians  were,  however,  finally  compelled  to 
yield  before  the  British  bayonets  and  the 
charge  of  their  cavalry ;  but  not  until  the 
brave  General  Stevens,  who  had  hitherto 
kept  his  men  so  well  to  their  work,  was 
wounded  in  the  thio;h.  and  while  beinw; 

o     /  o 

carried  off  the  field,  ordered  a  retreat. 
Supported  by  Colonel  Lee's  legion  and 
Campbell's  riflemen,  the  spirited  Virgin 
ians  were  able  to  retire  in  good  order  to 
the  third  line,  where  the  regulars  were 
now  prepared  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
battle. 

The  British  troops,  inspirited  by  their 
success  in  their  attack  on  the  front  lines, 
came  down  upon  the  American  regulars 
in  the  rear  with  great  impetuosity.  Colo 
nel  Webster,  however,  who  led  the  left 
wing  of  the  enemy,  was  so  stoutly  met  by 
the  first  regiment  of  Marylanders  on  the 
American  right,  that  he  was  forced  to  fall 
back  beyond  a  ravine  in  his  rear,  and  take 


post  on  a  height,  until  the  rest  of  the  Brit 
ish  line  came  up.  The  second  regiment 
of  Marylanders,  who  were  mostly  raw  re 
cruits,  held  their  ground  less  firmly,  and 
gave  way  before  Stewart,  leading  on  the 
British  guards. 

The  veterans  of  the  first  regiment  of 
Marylanders,  however,  who  had  just  driv 
en  back  Webster,  came  to  the  rescue  of 
their  flying  comrades,  and  began  a  ter 
rific  onslaught  with  fixed  bayonets  upon 
their  pursuers.  The  enemy,  nevertheless, 
fought  desperately,  and  the  issue  seemed 
uncertain ;  when  Colonel  Washington,  ma 
king  a  charge  with  his  cavalry,  gave  the 
Americans  manifestly  the  advantage.  In 
the  ensuing  struggle,  the  guards,  having 
lost  their  commander  (Stewart),  turned 
and  fled. 

At  this  moment,  Lord  Cornwallis  re 
sorted  to  a  desperate  manoeuvre  to  save 
the  fortunes  of  the  day.  He  brought  up 
his  artillery,  and  opened  a  fire  indiscrimi 
nately  upon  friends  and  foes  !  Brigadier 
O'Hara,  among  the  bravest  of  the  brave, 
ventured  to  remonstrate,  declaring  that 
it  was  suicidal.  "True,"  replied  his  lord 
ship  ;  "  but  it  is  a  necessary  evil,  which 
we  must  endure,  to  arrest  impending  de 
struction."  The  fire  was  renewed,  and 
every  ball  discharged  at  the  Americans 
endangered  the  life  of  a  British  soldier. 
Both  friend  and  foe  suffered  terribly;  but 
Cornwallis,  by  this  desperate  expedient, 
saved  the  day.  The  guards  had  a  chance 
to  rally,  as  their  pursuers  were  checked 
by  the  cannonade  ;  and  Colonel  Webster, 
returning  in  the  meanwhile  to  the  attack, 
came  up  in  time  to  throw  his  whole  weight 
in  their  favor,  and  thus  to  gain  at  last  the 


REVOLUTIONARY . 


LOSSES  AND  RESULTS  OF  THE  CONFLICT. 


841 


hard-earned  victory.  Tarleton,  in  com 
mand  of  the  cavalry  in  reserve,  made  a 
faint  show  of  pursuit,  but  Cornwallis  soon 
recalled  his  wearied  troops.  Greene  was 
enabled  to  draw  off  his  force  in  good  or 
der  to  the  bank  of  the  Reedy  fork  (the 
small  stream  which  ran  in  the  rear  of 
his  position) ;  and  detached  parties  here 
and  there,  under  the  cover  of  the  woods, 
as  they  retired  from  the  field,  still  kept 
up  a  skirmishing  fire,  by  which  the  ene 
my  suffered  severely. 

The  conflict,  which  lasted  nearly  two 
hours,  was  one  of  the  severest  of  the  war. 

Although  the  enemy  remained  masters 
of  the  field,  they  were  too  much  crippled 
to  follow  up  the  victory.  Their  soldiers, 
as  usual,  fought  with  great  braver}7;  and, 
as  Marshall  justly  observes,  "  no  battle  in 
the  course  of  the  war  reflects  more  honor 
on  the  courage  of  the  British  troops  than 
that  of  Guilford."  A  large  part  of  Gen 
eral  Greene's  force  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
untried  militia;  not  one  thousand  of  his 
men  had  ever  seen  service ;  and  the  vet 
eran  volunteers  under  Pickens  had,  some 
days  previously,  been  despatched  to  South 
Carolina,  where  they  were  imperatively 
demanded  to  meet  the  "  black  brigades" 
which  the  British  were  seeking  to  em 
body  in  that  quarter  during  the  absence 
of  the  American  army. 

The  havoc  in  both  armies  was  great. 
Of  the  British,  ninety-three  were  killed 
in  the  action,  four  hundred  and  thirteen 
wounded,  and  twenty-six  were  missing. 
Their  officers,  as  usual,  suffered  greatly. 
The  Honorable  Lieutenant-Colonel  Stew 
art,  of  tho  guards,  and  four  other  officers, 
106 


were  killed.  Brigadier-Generals  O'Hara 
and  Howard  (the  latter  a  volunteer), Lieu 
tenant-Colonels  Webster  and  Tarleton 
nine  captains,  four  lieutenants,  five  en 
signs,  and  two  adjutants,  one  of  whom  was 
a  younger  brother  of  the  great  Charles 
James  Fox,  were  among  the  wounded. 
Webster's  wound  proved  mortal,  and  Gen 
eral  O'Hara's  recovery  from  his  injuries 
was  lon^  doubtful. 

O 

The  loss  of  the  Americans  was  more 
than  four  hundred  killed  and  wounded, 
and  eight  or  nine  hundred  missing;  the 
latter  were  principally  the  North-Carolina 
militia,  who  had  so  disgracefully  fled  at 
the  beginning  of  the  action. 

Although  the  British  claimed  the  vic 
tory,  it  proved  a  barren  one,  and  they  de 
plored  its  results  as  much  as  if  it  had  been 
a  defeat.  "Another  such  would  ruin  the 
British  army,"  said  Fox,  in  the  house  of 
commons.  Frightful  was  the  amount  of 
human  suffering,  as  the  English  them 
selves  admitted,  by  which  they  had  ob 
tained  their  triumph.  The  wounded  were 
collected  as  expeditiously  as  possible;  but 
as  they  were  scattered  over  the  great  ex 
tent  of  wild  ground  which  composed  the 
field  of  battle,  many  perished  before  the}7 
could  be  reached.  The  army  was  also 
destitute  of  tents;  and  there  wras  not  a 
sufficient  number  of  houses,  in  that  mea- 
gerly-settled  country,  to  receive  the  suf 
ferers.  The  night  which  followed  was  in 
tensely  dark,  the  rain  poured  down  in  tor 
rents,  and  the  cries  of  the  wounded  and 
dying,  sounding  dismally  from  the  field 
of  conflict  throughout  every  hour,  struck 
each  human  heart  with  terror. 


842 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


CHAPTER   XCIX. 

General  Greene  still  hopeful. — Retreat  of  a  Conqueror. — Colonel  Lee  hangs  on  the  Rear  of  Lord  Cornwallis.— Ureene 
again  in  Pursuit. A  Precipitate  Flight. — Greene  in  South  Carolina. — Cornwallis  at  Wilmington. — Another  Cam 
paign. The  Earl  goes  to  Virginia. — Strike  the  Traitor.— Expedition  against  Arnold. — Lafayette  on  the  Move. — 

Movements  of  the  French  Fleet. — Action  with  the  British.— Disputed  Victory. — General  Phillips  in  Virginia. — York- 
town  taken. — Fire  and  Devastation. — Success  of  Lafayette. — The  British  at  Mount  Vernon. — Terms. — Rebuke  of 
Washington. — Movements  of  Cornwallis  in  Virginia. — His  Exultation. — His  Contempt  of  Lafayette.— Charley. — Les 
sons  of  Washington.— Cautious  System  of  Tactics.— Tarleton  on  the  Alert. 


1781. 


GENERAL  GREENE  was  worn  in  body 
by  the  fatigues  and  anxieties  of  the 
hard  struggle  at  Guilford  courthouse,  but 
his  resolute  spirit  was  undismayed.  From 
the  field  of  battle,  where  fate  had  decided 
against  him,  he  re  treated  to  the  iron-works 
on  Troublesome  creek.  Here  he  tarried 
two  days,  in  order  to  call  in  his  scattered 
forces,  and  while  awaiting  the  manoeu 
vres  of  the  British  commander,  to  make 
ready  to  meet  or  thwart  him.  "Lord 
Cornwallis,"  wrote  Greene,  "  will  not  give 
up  this  country,  without  being  soundly 
beaten.  I  wish  our  force  was  more  com 
petent  to  the  business."  He  added,  how 
ever,  more  cheerfully,  "But  I  am  in  hopes, 
by  little  and  little,  to  reduce  him  in  time." 
Cornwallis  was  in  no  disposition  to  fol 
low  up  his  dearly-bought  triumph  at  Guil 
ford  courthouse  with  any  immediate  at 
tempt  at  another  such  victory.  With 
nearly  a  third  of  his  force  slain,  many  of 
his  best  officers  killed  or  wounded,  and 
not  a  single  benefit  gained,  he  resolved, 
conqueror  as  he  was,  to  abandon  western 
Carolina  to  the  possession  of  the  Ameri 
cans,  and  retreat  toward  the  seaboard. 
Accordingly,  three  days  after  his  success 
(having  first  issued  an  exultant  but  inef- 


Mar.  18. 


fectual  proclamation,  in  which  he  boasted 
of  victory,  called  upon  all  good  citizens  to 
join  his  standard,  and  offered  pardon  to 
all  "  rebels"  who  should  lay  down  their 
arms),  his  lordship  destroyed  all  his  bag 
gage,  left  his  hospital  and  seventy  of  his 
wounded  to  the  vanquished  foe, 
and  set  out  by  slow  marches,  as 
befitted  the  condition  of  his  maimed  ar 
my,  toward  Cross  creek. 

Greene  was  on  the  alert,  and  followed 
the  retreating  march  of  Cornwallis,  and 
would  have  hastened  to  overtake  and  give 
him  battle  had  he  not  been  delayed  by 
the  want  of  ammunition.  Lee,  with  his 
legion,  and  a  militia-corps  of  riflemen, 
however,  being  sent  in  advance,  hovered 
about  the  lagging  march  of  the  British 
army,  which  was  still  so  prostrated  by  its 
disastrous  victory,  thnt  hardly  an  attempt 
was  made  to  drive  off  the  pertinacious 
American  skirmishers. 

At  length,  obtaining  the  necessary  sup 
plies  of  ammunition,  Greene  again  moved 
on  in  pursuit,  and  reached  liam- 
say's  mills,  on  the  Deep  river,  in 
Chatham  county,  just  after  Cornwallis  had 
crossed  the  stream.  So  precipitately  had 
his  lordship  decamped,  that  some  of  his 


28. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


OPERATIONS  IX  VIRGINIA. 


843 


dead  lay  on  the  ground  nnburied ;  and  a 
welcome  supply  of  fresh  beef  had  been 
left  behind,  upon  which  the  famishing  pa 
triot  soldiers  fed  voraciously.  Here  the 
American  commander  was  stayed  by  the 
conduct  of  the  militia,  who,  worn  out  by 
their  march  through  a  rough  country, 
stripped  of  its  meager  supplies  by  the  en 
emy  in  advance,  now  insisted  upon  their 
discharge,  as  their  term  of  service  had  ex 
pired.  Greene  was  compelled  to  forego 
his  eager  desire  to  overtake  the  earl,  and, 
after  a  short  repose  at  Ramsay's  mills, 
found  it  expedient  to  shift  the  scene  of 
action  to  the  southward.  Accordingly, 
with  only  a  handful  of  continental  troops 
left,  he  marched  toward  Camden, 
in  South  Carolina,  where  he  ex 
pected  the  co-operation  of  those  active 
partisans  Sumter,  Pickens,  and  Marion. 

Cornwallis,  though  among  staunch  loy 
alists  in  the  Highland-Scotch  settlements 
on  Cross  creek,  finding  that  the  country 
was  too  poor  to  support  his  troops,  con 
tinued  his  march  to  Wilmington,  at  the 
mouth  of  Cape-Fear  river,  where  Major 
Craig  had  been  established  with  a  small 
British  force,  and  a  large  supply  of  stores 
and  provisions. 

The  earl  had  no  sooner  arrived 
at  Wilmington,  and  refreshed  his 
suffering  troops,  than  he  began,  with  his 
usual  prompt  energy,  to  make  ready  for 
another  campaign.  Hearing  of  General 
Greene's  movement  to  South  Carolina,  he 
would  have  gone  to  the  aid  of  Lord  Raw- 
don,  at  Camden,  to  whose  danger  he  was 
fearfully  alive.  It  was  too  late,  however, 
to  succor  him  now.  To  remain  at  Wil 
mington  was  useless.  His  lordship  there 


fore  determined  to  march  his  small  force 
(now  consisting  of  only  fourteen  hundred 
and  thirty-five  men,  so  fatal  had  been  the 
victory  at  Guilford  courthouse  and  the 
subsequent  retreat)  through  North  Caro 
lina  to  Virginia,  and  there  form  a  junction 
with  Generals  Phillips  and  Arnold. 

Arnold's  destructive  foray  into  Virgin 
ia,  and  his  threatening  attitude  at  Ports 
mouth,  caused  every  American  eagerly 
to  desire  to  crush  the  traitor.  To  extin 
guish  the  malevolent  power  which  the 
ability  of  the  man  rendered  him  so  capa 
ble  of  exercising,  was  not  the  only  motive, 
however.  To  punish  the  betrayer  of  his 
country  was  the  desire  of  every  patriotic 
heart.  When,  therefore,  the  French  fleet 
was  released  from  the  harbor  of  Newport, 
in  Rhode  Island,  by  a  furious  storm  which 
scattered  the  English  blockading  squad 
ron,  the  opportunity  of  striking  a  blow  at 
Arnold  was  gladly  welcomed. 

The  chevalier  de  Ternay  having  died 
at  Newport,  M.  Destouches,  his  successor, 
agreed  to  send  a  portion  of  his  naval  force 
to  sail  up  the  Chesapeake  and  blockade 
Arnold  in  Portsmouth,  while  Washington 
should  despatch  a  detachment  from  his 
army,  under  the  command  of  Lafayette, 
to  enclose  the  traitor  by  land.  Washing 
ton  subsequently  urged  the  French  ad 
miral  to  proceed  with  his  whole  fleet  and 
a  thousand  troops  (the  French  infantry 
had  been  placed  in  winter-quarters  atNew- 
port  in  November,  and  the  cavalry,  de 
tached  from  the  legion  of  the  duke  de 
Lauzun,  were  sent  to  the  barracks  con 
structed  at  Lebanon,  in  Connecticut)  to 
the  coast  of  Virginia;  but  M.  Destouches 
had  already  sent  M.  de  Tilly  to  sea  with 


844 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA 


LPAKT  n. 


Fob,  0, 


Feb.  20. 


one  ship  of  the  line  and  two  frig 
ates,  and  was  now  unable,  as  the 
British  were  again  off  Newport,  to  get  any 
more  ships  out  of  port. 

Lafayette,  with  twelve  hundred  men, 
followed  De  Tilly,  marching  by  land  to 
form  a  junction  with  the  baron 
Steuben,  who  then  commanded 
in  Virginia.  "  You  are  to  do  no  act  what 
ever  with  Arnold,"  said  Washington,  in  his 
instructions  to  the  young  marquis,  "  that 
directly  or  by  implication  may  screen  him 
from  the  punishment  due  to  his  treason 
and  desertion,  which,  if  he  should  fall  into 
your  hands,  you  will  execute  in  the  most 
summary  manner." 

The  ardent  Lafayette  set  out  with  san 
guine  hopes  of  success,  which  were,  how 
ever,  dashed  on  his  march  by  intelligence 
of  the  failure  of  M.  de  Tilly,  who  found 
on  his  arrival  off  Portsmouth  that  the 
wary  Arnold  had  cautiously  moored  his 
vessels  out  of  harm's  way,  up  Elizabeth 
river.  The  Frenchman,  in  attempting  to 
follow  him,  ran  one  of  his  frigates  aground 

'  O  O 

and  was  obliged  to  give  up  the  pursuit. 
He  now  returned  to  Newport,  having  the 
good  luck  on  the  southern  coast  to  fall  in 
with  the  Romulus,  a  British  fifty-gun  ship, 
which  he  captured. 

In  the  meantime,  Washington, 
during  a  personal  interview  at 
Newport  with  the  French  commanders, 
had  prevailed  upon  them  to  send  their 
whole  fleet  and  eleven  hundred  men,  un 
der  Baron  de  Vionienil,  to  attack  Arnold 
at  Portsmouth.  Lafayette's  hopes  were 
again  in  the  ascendant  when  he  heard  of 
the  grand  demonstration  which  was  to 
be  made  by  his  countrymen,  and  hastened 


II-  •  h  (' 


to  join  and  welcome  them.  Leaving  his 
troops  at  Annapolis,  in  Maryland,  he  sailed 
down  Chesapeake  bay  in  an  open  boat  to 
Virginia.  Having  paid  a  flying  visit  to 
Steuben  at  York,  where  the  veteran  was 
stirring  up  the  whole  population  to  arms, 
the  young  marquis  pressed  forward  to  Pe 
tersburg,  where  he  learned  that  a  fleet 
had  indeed  arrived  in  Hampton  roads,  but 
that  the  British  admiral  Arbuthnot,  and 
not  the  chevalier  Destouches, commanded 
it !  Lafayette  now  turned  back  with  his 
troops,  until,  receiving  orders  from  Wash 
ington,  he  once  more  took  up  his  march 
for  Virginia. 

The  French  fleet  had  sailed  from  New 
port  two  days  after  the  interview 

J  March  8. 

between  the  allied  commanders. 

The  English  squadron,  under  Arbuthnot, 
followed  in  pursuit  on  the  10th,  and  on 
the  16th  the  two  fleets  came  together  ofl 
Cape  Henry,  and  had  a  sharp  but  brief 
action,  which  lasted  about  an  hour.  The 
English  admiral  gained  his  purpose  by 
driving  the  French  ships  away,  and  flying 
his  flag  in  triumph  in  the  Chesapeake ; 
although  M.  Destouches,  forced  as  he  was 
to  return  to  Newport,  claimed  the  glory 
of  the  victory. 

Major-General  Phillips,  who  was  among 
the  officers  captured  at  Saratoga,  on  the 
surrender  of  Burgoyne,  having 
arrived  at  Portsmouth  with  a  re 
inforcement  of  more  than  two  thousand 
men,  assumed  the  chief  command.  Up 
to  that  time,  the  traitor  Arnold  had  shared 
neither  the  honors  nor  the  booty  won  by 
his  marauding  exploits  in  Virginia. 

The  British  were  now  in  such  force  as 
to  justify  an  inroad  into  the  interior  of 


Mar,  2(5. 


RE  VOLUTIOX  A  R  Y.  ] 


THE  BRITISH  AT  MOUNT  VERNON. 


April  1. 


the  state.  After  remaining  several  weeks 
at  Portsmouth,  to  strengthen  the  fortifi 
cations,  General  Phillips  accordingly  em 
barked  some  twenty-five  hundred  men  in 
small  armed  vessels,  and,  accompanied  by 
Arnold  (who  was  now  subordinate  in  com 
mand),  ascended  James  river.  Williams- 
burg  was  taken,  and  all  the  public  prop 
erty  in  it  destroyed.  Yorktown  was  also 
captured,  and  its  shipyard,  together  with 
some  armed  vessels  and  stores,  burned. 
The  whole  country  about,  villages  and 
plantations,  were  laid  waste.  Phillips  and 
Arnold  next  advancedagainstPetersburg, 
and,  after  a  spirited  but  ineffectual  resist 
ance  on  the  part  of  the  militia 
under  the  command  of  General 
Muhlenburg,  destroyed  its  tobacco  and 
public  warehouses. 

Dividing  their  forces  at  Petersburg, 
Phillips  marched  to  Chesterfield  court 
house,  where  he  destroyed  the  barracks 
and  stores.  Arnold,  in  the  meanwhile, 
went  to  Osbrunes,  where  he  destroyed  the 
tobacco ;  and  thence  proceeded  to  War 
wick,  where  he  opened  a  fire  from  the 
bank  of  James  river  upon  a  flotilla  of 
American  armed  vessels,  which  caused 
their  crews  to  scuttle  them  and  fly  to  the 
opposite  shore. 

Phillips  and  Arnold,  again  joining  their 
forces,  now  marched  to  Manchester,  a  vil 
lage  opposite  to  Richmond,  with  the  view 
of  crossing  James  river  to  the  latter  place. 
They  had  previously  driven  the  baron 
Steuben,  with  his  little  army  of  a  thou 
sand  militia,  across  the  Appomattox.  The 
energetic  Lafayette,  however,  had  antici 
pated  the  invaders,  having  arrived  just 
the  night  before,  and  was  now  strongly 


posted  in  the  city  with  two  thousand  reg 
ulars  and  militia,  and  a  company  of  dra 
goons.  Phillips  thereupon  gave  up  his 
design  against  Richmond  ;  and,  after  de 
stroying  the  stores  and  a  great  quantity 
of  tobacco  at  Manchester,  he  and  Arnold 
retraced  their  devastating  steps  to  Ber 
muda  Hundred.  They  soon  afterward 
re-embarked  their  troops  and  proceeded 
down  the  river,  when  Lord  Cornwallis, 
who  was  then  at  Wilmington,  gave  them 
notice  that  he  was  about  marching  into 
Virginia.  The  two  commanders  then  re 
turned  to  Petersburg,  where  they  await 
ed  the  arrival  of  his  lordship  from  North 
Carolina. 

It  was  during  these  marauds  of  the 
British  along  the  rivers  of  Virginia,  that 
an  English  cruiser  sailed  up  the  Potomac, 
burning  the  dwellings,  laying  waste  the 
plantations,  and  exacting  supplies  from 
the  inhabitants.  On  coming  to  anchor  off 
Mount  Vernon,  a  party  of  marines  was 
sent  ashore  to  make  a  levy  (with  a  threat 
of  destruction  if  resisted)  upon  Washing 
ton's  estate;  when  Mr.  Lund  Washington, 
who,  in  the  general's  absence,  acted  as  his 
agent,  went  on  board  the  frigate  with  a 
supply  of  provisions,  conciliated  the  com 
mander,  and  saved  the  property.  When 
General  Washington  heard  of  the  trans 
action,  he  sternly  rebuked  his  kinsman 
Lund  for  making  terms  "with  a  parcel  of 
plundering  scoundrels,"  and  declared,  in 
his  letter  to  him,  "  It  would  have  been  a 
less  painful  circumstance  to  me,  to  have 
heard  that,  in  consequence  of  your  non- 
compliance  with  their  request,  they  had 
burnt  my  house  and  laid  rny  plantation 


m  ruins. 


846 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Way  13, 


In  consequence  of  the  death 
of  General  Phillips,  three  days 
after  his  arrival  at  Petersburg,  Arnold 
again  succeeded  to  the  chief  command  of 

o 

the  enemy's  forces  in  Virginia.* 

Lord  Cormvallis,  although  his  march 
was  a  long  and  lab«rious  one  from  North 
Carolina,  succeeded  in  completing  it  al 
most  without  opposition,  and  in  less  than 
a  month.  His  journey  had  been  greatly 
facilitated  by  two  boats  mounted  on  car 
riages,  which  were  carried  along  with  the 
baggage  of  the  army.  His  lordship,  on 
marching  into  Petersburg,  was  in 
a  state  of  high  exultation.  His 
anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the  royal  forces 
in  South  Carolina  was  relieved  by  the  in 
telligence  of  Lord  Rawdon's  successful  re 
sistance  to  General  Greene;  and  nowr  that 
he  had  succeeded  in  forming  a  junction, 
he  believed  his  army  sufficiently  strong 
to  secure  him  the  possession  of  Virginia. 
Of  the  opposition  of  Lafayette  and  his 
force  he  spoke  with  contempt.  "  The  boy 
can  not  escape  me,"  wrote  the  earl  in  his 
despatch  to  the  British  government. 

Cornwallis,  relieving  Arnold  (who  re 
turned  to  New  York)  of  his  command, 
with  his  usual  promptitude,  delayed  but 
a  few  days  at  Petersburg,  and  then  set  out 
in  pursuit  of  the  young  marquis.  Cros 
sing  James  river,  he  entered  Richmond, 
which  Lafayette,  with  his  inferi 
or  force,  was  obliged  to  evacuate. 
The  earl  now  directed  his  march  through 


May  27 


*  It  is  said  that,  while  on  this  expedition,  Arnold  in 
quired  of  an  American  captain,  whom  he  had  taken  prison 
er,  what  the  Americans  would  do  with  him,  if  he  should 
fall  into  their  hands.  The  officer  replied  that  they  would 
cut  off  his  lame  leg.  and  hury  it  with  the  honors  of  war, 
and  hang  the  remainder  of  his  hody  on  a  gibbet. 


Hanover  county,  closely  watched  by  his 
youthful  antagonist,  though  at  a  guarded 
distance.  While  the  two  generals  were 
on  the  same  side  of  James  river,  Cornwal 
lis  formed  a  plan  for  taking  the  young 
Frenchman  by  surprise,  but  was  diverted 
from  his  intention  by  an  American  whom 
Lafayette  had  sent  into  the  British  camp 
as  a  spy,  to  obtain  intelligence.  Gordon 
tells  the  story  : — 

"  The  marquis  was  very  desirous  of  ob 
taining  full  intelligence  concerning  his 
lordship;  and  concluded  upon  prevailing, 
if  possible,  upon  one  Charles  (generally 
called  Charley)  Morgan,  a  Jersey  soldier, 
of  whom  he  had  entertained  a  favorable 
opinion,  to  turn  deserter,  and  go  over  to 
the  British  army,  in  order  to  his  execu 
ting  the  business  of  a  spy  more  effectu 
ally.  Charley  was  sent  for,  and  agreed 
to  undertake  the  hazardous  employ;  but 
insisted  that,  in  case  he  should  be  discov 
ered  and  hanged,  the  marquis,  to  secure 
his  reputation,  should  have  it  inserted  in 
the  Jersey  paper  that  he  was  sent  upon 
the  service  by  his  commander. 

"  Charley  deserted,  and,  when  he  had 
reached  the  royal  army,  was  carried  be 
fore  his  lordship,  who  inquired  into  the 
reason  of  his  deserting,  and  received  for 
answer — '  I  have  been,  my  lord,  with  the 
American  army  from  the  beginning,  and 
while  under  General  Washington  was  sat 
isfied;  but,  being  put  under  a  Frenchman, 
I  do  not  like  it,  and  have  left  the  service.' 
His  lordship  commended  and  rewarded 
his  conduct.  Charley  was  very  diligent 
of  his  military  duty,  and  was  not  in  the 
least  suspected,  but  at  the  same  time  care 
fully  observed  all  that  passed.  One  day, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CORNWALLIS  AND  CHARLEY  MORGAN. 


847 


while  on  particular  duty  with  his  com 
rades,  Cornwallis,  in  close  conversation 
with  some  officers,  called  Charley  to  him, 
and  said, '  How  long  will  it  take  the  mar 
quis  to  cross  James  river?'  Charley  paused 
a  moment  and  answered,  l  Three  hours, 
my  lord.'  His  lordship  exclaimed, '  Three 
hours !  why,  it  will  take  three  days.' — 
f  No,  my  lord,'  said  -Charley;  '  the  marquis 
has  so  many  boats,  and  each  boat  will  car 
ry  so  many  men.  If  your  lordship  will 
be  at  the  trouble  of  calculating,  you  will 
find  he  can  cross  in  three  hours.'  His 
lordship  turned  to  the  officers,  and  in  the 
hearing  of  Charley  remarked/ The  scheme 
will  not  do.' 

"  Charley  concluded  that  this  was  the 
moment  for  his  returning  to  the  marquis. 
He  as  soon  as  possible  plied  his  comrades 
with  grog  till  they  were  well  warmed,  and 
then  opened  his  masked  battery.  Pie  com 
plained  of  the  wants  that  prevailed  in  the 
British  camp,  commended  the  supplies 
with  which  the  Americans  abounded,  ex 
pressed  his  inclination  to  return,  and  then 
asked,  'What  say  you,  will  you  go  with 
me  ?'  They  agreed.  It  was  left  with  him 
to  manage  as  to  the  sentries.  To  the  first 
he  offered,  in  a  very  friendly  manner,  the 
taking  of  a  draught  out  of  his  canteen. 
While  the  fellow  was  drinking,  Charley 
secured  his  arms,  and  then  proposed  his 
deserting  with  them,  to  which  he  consent 
ed  through  necessity.  The  second  was 
served  in  like  manner.  Charley  Morgan, 
by  his  management,  carried  off  seven  de 
serters  with  him.  When  he  had  reached 
the  American  army,  and  was  brought  to 
headquarters,  the  marquis,  upon  seeing 
him,  cried  out, '  Ha  !  Charley,  are  you  got 


back?' — 'Yes,  and  please  your  excellency, 
and  have  brought  seven  more  with  me,' 
was  the  answer.  When  Charley  had  re 
lated  the  reason  of  his  returning,  and  the 
observations  he  had  made,  the  marquis 
offered  him  money  ;  but  he  declined  ac 
cepting  it,  and  only  desired  to  have  his 
gun  again.  The  marquis  then  proposed 
to  promote  him  to  the  rank  of  a  corporal 
or  a  sergeant.  To  this  Morgan  replied : 
'  I  will  not  have  any  promotion.  I  have 
abilities  for  a  common  soldier,  and  have 
a  good  character ;  should  I  be  promoted, 
my  abilities  may  not  answer,  and  I  may 
lose  my  character.'  He,  however,  nobly 
requested  for  his  fellow-soldiers,  who  were 
not  so  well  supplied  with  shoes,  stockings, 
and  clothing,  as  himself,  that  the  marquis 
would  promise  to  do  what  he  could  to  re 
lieve  their  distresses,  which  he  easily  ob 
tained." 

Cornwallis  strove  in  vain  to  force  the 
young  marquis  to  action,  who,  under  the 
teachings  and  example  of  Washington, 
had  learned  to  repress  his  youthful  ardor, 
and  was  now  prudently  carrying  out  a 
cautious  system  of  tactics.  Lafayette's 
force,  moreover,  was  small ;  and,  before 
attempting  any  offensive  operations,  he 
desired  to  unite  with  General  Wayne,  who, 
sent  by  Washington,  was  now  on  his  way 
with  eight  hundred  troops  of  the  Penn 
sylvania  line,  to  form  a  junction  with  the 
southern  army.  The  whole  force  of  the 
marquis  hardly  amounted  to  three  thou 
sand  men,  of  whom  two  thirds  were  mi 
litia, 

Lord  Cornwallis,  on  the  contrary,  rein 
forced  by  a  detachment  of  troops  from 
New  York,  now  led  an  army  of  four  thou 


848 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT   II. 


sand  regulars,  of  whom  eight  hundred 
were  cavalry,  and  many  of  them  mounted 
on  the  choicest  horses  from  the  stables 
of  the  rich  Virginia  planters.  Tarle ton's 
troopers  were  never  before  in  such  fine 


condition  for  service,  and  that  renowned 
colonel  was  ready  to  make  a  dash  here, 
there,  and  everywhere,  against  the  con 
tumacious  "  rebels,"  at  the  quick  bidding 
of  his  prompt  commander. 


CHAPTER   C. 

Colonel  Tarle  ton  in  Full  Activity. — Beating  up  the  Governor. — Pouncing  upon  the  Assembly. — Bare  Escape  of  Jefferson. 
— Respect  for  Literature. — A  sup  of  Good  Wine. — Destruction  of  Stores. — Junction  with  Colonel  Simcoe. — Steuben 
deluded.— Lafayette  reinforced. —  "The  Boy"  not  easily  caught. — Increased  respect  for  the  Marquis. — Lord  Cornwal- 
li-s  retreats  to  Portsmouth. — A  Drawn  Battle. — Stratagem  of  Corn  wall  is. — Impetuosity  of  General  Wayne. — Success  of 
his  Lordship. — Losses. — Alarm  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Orders  and  Counter-Orders. — Lafayette  in  Credit. — Scheme  of 
General  Greene. — Its  Dangers. — Cornwallis  in  Straits. — Greene  before  Camden. — Tory  Information. — Camden  unas 
sailable. —  Greene  strives  to  provoke  Earl  Rawdon  to  Battle.— Lee  and  Marion. — A  Fighting-Pen.- — Mayham's  Tower. 
— The  Enemy  forced  to  capitulate. — His  Lordship  resolved  on  an  engagement. — The  Americans  at  Hobkirk's  Hill  — 
They  are  reinforced  and  supplied. — Battle  of  Hobkirk's  Hill. — The  Order  of  Battle. — The  Struggle. — Gunby's  Veter 
ans. — An  Error.— Victory  of  the  British. — The  Pursuit  checked. — The  Losses. 


1781, 


LORD  CORNWALLIS  found  active  ser 


vice  for  the  bold  Colonel  Tarleton. 
He  was  detached,  with  one  hundred  and 
eighty  of  his  dragoons  and  seventy  mount 
ed  infantry,  to  beat  up  Governor  Jeffer 
son  and  the  members  of  the  state  assem 
bly,  who  had  removed  from  Richmond  to 
Charloltesvile,  to  be  out  of  harm's  way. 
Tarleton  and  his  men,  with  their  Virginia 
racehorses,  made  a  rapid  stride  across  the 
country  from  the  capital ;  destroyed  a 
quantity  of  supplies  for  the  American  ar 
my  on  the  way ;  dashed  through  the  Ri- 
vanna,  a  branch  of  James  river,  that  wash 
es  the  ibot  of  the  hill  on  which  Charlottes- 
ville  stands  ;  dispersed  a  militia-guard  on 
the  opposite  bank ;  spurred  up  the  hill 
into  the  town,  and  suddenly  pounced  up 
on  the  assembly.  Seven  only  of  the  mem 
bers,  however,  were  captured,  the  rest  hav 
ing  made  their  escape  on  fresh  horses, 


which  Tarleton's  cavalry,  blown  by  their 
hard  day's  run,  could  not  overtake.  Gov 
ernor  Jefferson  had  hardly  been  gone  ten 
minutes,  when  some  of  Tarleton's  men 
entered  the  dwelling  from  which  he  had 
made  his  escape  on  a  fleet  horse,  by  a 
narrow  lane  leading  across  the  country 
from  the  rear  of  his  house  at  Monticello. 
The  books  and  papers  of  the  governor 
were  not  harmed,  but  the  thirsty  troop 
ers  made  free  with  his  wine.  After  de 
stroying  one  thousand  new  firelocks,  four 
hundred  barrels  of  gunpowder,  a  quantity 
of  military  stores,  and  many  hogsheads  of 
tobacco,  Tarleton  quitted  Charlottesville, 
and  led  his  force  down  the  river,  to  join 
Colonel  Simcoe,  who  had  been  detached 
with  five  hundred  infantry  to  destroy  the 
military  stores  at  the  Point  of  York,  fifty 
miles  above  Richmond,  where  the  Rivan- 
na  and  the  Fluvanna  join  their  waters. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        CORNWALLIS  RETIRES  TO  THE  SEABOARD. 


Baron  Steuben,  however,  was  on  the 
alert;  and  when  the  British  arrived  on 
one  side  of  the  stream,  they  found  that 
he  had  moved  the  stores  and  all  his  force 
but  a  small  guard  to  the  other.  Simcoe, 
notwithstanding,  who  was  as  cunning  as 
a  fox,  by  extending  his  encampment,  suc 
ceeded  in  giving  the  veteran  Steuben  the 
impression  that  the  whole  British  army 
was  before  him.  The  baron,  thus  deluded, 
felt  compelled  to  fly  during  the  following 
night,  and  in  such  haste  and  confusion, 
that  he  left  behind  him  his  arms  and  mil 
itary  stores.  A  small  patrol,  however,  re 
mained  to  watch  the  enemy;  but  the  next 
morning  a  detachment  of  Simcoe's  force 
crossed  the  river  in  canoes,  and,  dispersing 
the  patrol,  destroyed  the  stores. 

Steuben  now  hastened  to  join  Lafay 
ette,  who  was  on  a  rapid  march  to  meet 
General  Wayne.  The  junction 
with  Wayne  and  Steuben  being 
effected,  in  the  valley  of  the  Rappahan- 
nock,  the  marquis  was  enabled  to  turn 
and  face  the  enemy.  Lord  Cornwallis 
had  succeeded  in  getting  between  him 
and  a  large  deposit  of  military  stores  at 
Albemarle  Old  courthouse,  at  which  his 
lordship  was  now  aiming.  The  marquis, 
however,  was  able  to  steal  a  march  upon 
his  antagonist  by  taking  a  cross-road,  and 
strongly  posted  himself  at  the  place  sev 
eral  hours  before  the  earl  made  his  ap 
pearance.  Cornwallis,  finding  that  "the 
boy"  was  not  so  easily  caught,  began  to 
entertain  a  greater  respect  for  his  youth 
ful  adversary.  He  now  evinced  his  in 
creased  good  opinion  of  him  by  declining 
to  accept  his  challenge  to  battle,  and  re 
treated  (while  followed  by  Lafayette)  to 

107 


June  7. 


June  23, 


Richmond,  and  subsequently  down  the 
peninsula,  across  the  Chickaho 
miny,  until  he  arrived  at  Wil- 
liamsburg.  Here  his  lordship,  four  days 
afterward,  received  a  despatch  from  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  with  orders  to  take  post 
near  the  seashore,  and  to  send  a  portion 
of  his  troops  to  New  York,  as  there  was 
great  alarm  felt  by  the  British  command- 
er-in-chief  at  the  discovery  that  Washing 
ton,  together  with  Count  de  Rochambeau 
and  the  French  fleet,  designed  a  joint  at 
tack  upon  that  city. 

Followed  so  closely  as  he  was  by  the 
young  marquis,  whose  force  now  num 
bered  about  four  thousand  men,  Cornwal 
lis  felt  that  he  could  not  prudently  re 
main  at  Williamsburg,  with  a  diminished 
force,  and  he  consequently  determined 
to  seek  the  cover  of  Portsmouth,  protect 
ed  by  the  fleet  and  fortifications.  While 
preparing  to  move,  he  sent  out  Colonel 
Sirncoe  and  his  rangers  to  destroy  some 
stores  on  the  Chickahominy  river,  and  to 
drive  in  the  cattle  from  the  neighboring 
plantations.  Lafayette  resolved  to  inter 
cept  them,  and  for  that  purpose  detached 
a  skirmishing-party  under  the  command 
of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Butler  and  Major 
M'Pherson.  A  struggle  ensued,  in  which 
both  parties  fought  spiritedly,  but  with 
such  equal  results,  that  neither  could  just 
ly  claim  the  victory. 

Having  completed  their  preparations 
for  departure,  the  British  now  inarched 

from  Williamsburg  to  the  ford 

T  July  4, 

at  old  Jamestown,  across  James 

river.  Here  Cornwallis  cunningly  made 
a  feint  of  passing  over  his  whole  army ; 
while,  with  a  great  show  of  bustle,  his 


850 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


July  6, 


lordship  merely  sent  across  a  vanguard. 
On  the  following  day  the  wheel-carriages 
were  transported,  and  on  the  6th  the  bat- 
horses  and  baggage  were  all  passed  over. 
The  object  of  the  earl  was,  to  deceive 
Lafayette,  who  had  now  followed  within 
nine  miles,  and  was  watching  the  oppor 
tunity  to  fall  upon  the  British  rear-guard 
after  the  main  body  had  crossed.  To 
give  further  efficacy  to  the  stratagem, 
Tarleton  instructed  one  of  his  dragoons 
and  a  negro  to  pretend  to  be  deserters, 
and,  throwing  themselves  in  the  way  of 
the  American  sentinels,  to  give  out  that 
the  main  body  of  the  British  army  had 
passed  the  river. 

The  stratagem  was  successful. 
General  Wayne  and  his  force  of 
eight  hundred  Pennsylvanians  were  de 
spatched  in  advance,  to  make  the  first  at 
tack,  while  Lafayette  held  back  in  reserve 
to  sustain  them.  As  the  Americans  came 
up,  the  British  pickets  were  ordered  to 
allow  themselves  to  be  driven  in,  in  or 
der  to  further  still  more  the  deception. 
Wayne  continued  to  push  on  with  his 
usual  impetuosity,  until  he  found  himself 
confronted  by  the  whole  British  army  ! 
Even  now,  with  reckless  valor,  he  ordered 
his  men  to  charge,  and  was  soon  engaged 
in  a  desperate  encounter  with  an  over 
whelming  force.  Lafayette,  now  discov 
ering  Wayne's  danger,  rode  up  and  or 
dered  him  to  retire,  which  he  did  in  tol 
erable  order,  under  cover  of  the  militia, 
though  he  was  obliged  to  leave  his  can 
non  behind  him.  Night  was  now  closing, 
and  the  British  commander  did  not  pur 
sue.  The  conflict,  though  brief,  had  been 
bloody.  The  English  lost  five  officers  and 


seventy-five  privates.  The  American  loss 
in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners,  amount 
ed  to  one  hundred  and  eighteen  in  all,  in 
cluding  ten  officers. 

On  the  same  evening,  Cornwallis,  hav 
ing  called  in  all  his  detachments,  passed 

over  to  Jamestown  island.  A  few 

,        P,          ,  ,  ,  T          July  12. 

days  afterward,  tie  crossed  James 

river  with  his  whole  force,  and  proceeded 
leisurely  by  land  toward  the  seaboard. 
After  a  march  of  a  little  over  two  weeks, 
his  lordship  arrived  at  Portsmouth,  oppo 
site  Norfolk,  where  he  embarked 
the  portion  of  his  troops  which 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in  his  fears  for  New 
York,  had  called  for.  Before  the  trans 
ports  had  set  sail,  however,  a  counter-or 
der  was  received,  as  Sir  Henry  found  that 
New  York  was  no  longer  in  danger,  since 
Washington  and  his  French  allies  had 
changed  their  plans. 

Lafayette,  after  the  struggle,  retired 
up  James  river  to  Green  springs,  where 
he  halted  to  refresh  his  troops  and  await 
events.  In  the  meantime,  he  congratu 
lated  himself  with  the  reflection  that  his 
Virginia  campaign  had  not  been  inglori 
ous,  as  he  had  succeeded  in  inflicting  upon 
"  his  lordship  the  disgrace  of  a  retreat." 
lie  did  not  fail,  however,  to  acknowledge 
that  Washington's  tactics,  in  drawing  the 
attention  of  the  enemy  to  New  York,  and 
thus  weakening  Earl  Cornwallis, had  been 
more  effective  than  his  own  military  ma 
noeuvres.  The  young  marquis,  neverthe 
less,  earned  great  credit  for  the  prudence 
(hardly  to  be  expected  from  so  ardent  a 
youth)  with  which  he  had  conducted  the 
campaign.  Moreover,  in  consideration  of 
the  great  military  talents  which  he  had 


.]    DEVASTATIONS.— MURDER  OF  COLONEL  GREENE. 


851 


displayed  during  this  short  campaign  in 
Yinnnia,  Kino;  Louis  XYI.  commanded 

o  o 

the  French  minister  of  war  to  express  to 
the  marquis  his  approbation,  and  assure 
him  that  he  should  he  raised  to  the  rank 
of  a  field-marshal  of  France  as  soon  as  the 
American  war  should  terminate. 

The  whole  British  force  in  Yirginia  at 
this  time  amounted  to  about  seven  thou 
sand  men.  In  the  bold  and  rapid  march 
of  Cornwnllis  into  the  state  from  North 
Carolina,  which  we  have  detailed,  a  vast 
amount  of  public  and  private  property 
was  laid  waste.  The  growing  crops  were 
destroyed  upon  the  ground,  the  barns 
were  burned,  and  all  the  fences  and  land 
marks  of  the  plantations  were  scattered 
to  the  winds.  It  is  estimated  that  in  the 
course  of  the  several  invasions  of  Collier, 
Leslie,  Arnold,  Phillips,  and  Cornwallis, 
about  thirty  thousand  slaves  were  carried 
off  from  Yirginia,  and  property  destroyed 
to  the  amount  of  fifteen  millions  of  dol 
lars  !  Cornwallis  suffered  dwelling-houses 
to  be  plundered  of  everything;  and  it  was 
well  known  that  his  lordship's  table  was 
furnished  with  plate  thus  obtained  from 
private  families.  His  march  was  more 
frequently  that  of  a  marauder  than  of  an 
honorable  general. 

While  these  operations  were  in  prog 
ress  at  the  South,  Washington  was  com 
pelled  to  remain  comparatively  inactive, 
so  far  as  military  movements  were  con 
cerned,  because  of  the  weakness  of  his 
army.  According  to  the  resolves  of  Con 
gress,  there  was  to  have  been  a  little  more 
than  thirty-seven  thousand  men  under 

*/ 

arms  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  1781 ; 
yet,  in  May,  Washington's  whole  force  in 


camp,  on  the  Hudson,  amounted  to  only 
a  little  more  than  four  thousand  effective 
men ! 

At  that  time,  clouds  of  danger  appeared 
upon  the  northern  frontier,  and  among 
the  Six  Nations;  and  Colonel  Delancey 
and  other  tory  leaders  were  making  fierce 
forays  upon  American  outposts  in  West- 
chester  county,  New  York.  In  one  of 
these,  Colonel  Christopher  Greene,  the  he 
roic  follower  of  Arnold  through  the  wil 
derness  of  Maine,  the  brave  soldier  at  Que 
bec,  the  admirable  defender  of  Fort  Mer 
cer,  on  the  Delaware,  and  the  humane 
friend  of  his  opponent,  the  dying  Count 
Donop,  was  barbarously  murdered,  with 
several  of  his  comrades,  by  a  portion  of 
Delancey's  corps.  Colonel  Greene  was 
beloved  by  Washington,  and  this  coward 
ly  assassination  aroused  the  chief's  hot 
test  indignation.  Greene  was  carried  to 
headquarters,  and  interred  with  military 
honors ;  and  Washington  would  have  de 
spatched  a  sufficient  force  to  chastise  the 
Westchester  marauders,  had  not  his  atten 
tion  at  this  time  been  called  to  more  im 
portant  concerns.* 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  the 
events  transpiring  in  the  far  South.  Du 
ring  the  operations  of  the  contending  ar 
mies  in  North  Carolina,  the  republicans 
in  South  Carolina  were  everj^where  gath 
ering  in  arms.  The  absence  of  Cornwal 
lis  had  withdrawn  from  the  state  that  su 
perior  body  by  which  he  had  held  it  in 
subjection.  Pickens,  with  his  brigade,  was 
operating  between  Ninety-Six  and  Augus 
ta;  and  Lee,  with  his  legion,  and  a  por 
tion  of  the  second  Maryland  regiment,  was 

*  Lossintr. 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


now  advancing  to  co-operate  with  Gen 
eral  Marion  on  the  San  tee. 

General  Sumter,  though  not  yet  fully 
recovered  of  his  wounds  received  at  Black- 
stock's,  had  drawn  his  men  to  a  head,  and 
had  penetrated  to  the  Congaree,  which  he 
crossed  earty  in  February,  and  appeared 
before  Fort  Granby.  Such  was  the  vigor 
with  which  he  pressed  the  fort,  that  his 
marksmen,  mounted  upon  a  temporary 
structure  of  rails,  had  reduced  the  garri 
son  to  the  last  straits,  when  it  was  relieved 
by  the  unexpected  approach  of  succor,  un 
der  Lord  Rawdon,  who  appeared  on  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  river. 

Unable  to  contend  with  the  superior 
force  of  the  British,  Sumter  made  a  sud 
den  retreat;  and,  two  days  after, he  cap 
tured  an  escort  of  British  regulars,  going 
from  Charleston  to  Camden  with  stores, 
in  wagons,  which  yielded  a  booty  equally 
necessary  to  both  parties.  Thirteen  of 
the  British  were  slain,  and  sixty-six  made 
prisoners.  The  wagons,  containing  a  pro 
fusion  of  provisions,  clothing,  arms,  and 
ammunition,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
victors. 

Proceeding  with  his  accustomed  rapidi 
ty,  Sumter  swam  the  Santee  river,  with 
three  hundred  men,  and  appeared  next 
before  Fort  Watson.  From  this  point  he 
was  again  driven  by  Lord  Rawdon,  who 
inarched  to  its  relief.  He  then  retired  to 
the  swamps  on  Black  river,  where  he  re 
mained  for  awhile  to  recruit,  though  not 
inactive. 

Emerging  from  this  retreat,  the  parti 
san  general  was  attacked,  near  Camden, 
by  Major  Fraser,  at  the  head  of  a  consid 
erable  force  of  regulars  and  tory  militia ; 


but  the  major  was  defeated,  after  a  severe 
handling,  in  which  twenty  of  his  follow 
ers  were  slain.  After  this  event,  Sumter 
retired  to  the  borders  of  North  Carolina, 
where  he  contrived  to  increase  his  force 
to  three  small  regiments  of  state  troops. 
His  return,  with  that  of  the  continental 
army,  renewed  the  war  in  South  Carolina 
with  more  regularity  and  vigor. 

Marion  had  been  as  busy  in  his  fast 
nesses  as  his  great  contemporary  Sumter ; 
and  while  General  Greene  and  the  conti 
nentals  gave  full  employment  to  the  reg 
ular  British  army,  his  little  brigade  had 
met  the  loyalists  in  a  spirit  not  unlike 
their  own.  Their  savage  murders,  wan 
ton  excesses,  and  bitter  cruelties — their 
house-breaking  and  house-burning,  their 
blasphemies, impieties,  and  horrors  —  had 
put  them  completely  out  of  the  pale  of 
military  civilization.  "No  quarter  to  the 
torics  /"  became  the  cry  of  the  brigade, 
when  going  into  battle ;  and  with  this 
spirit,  and  guided  by  the  skill  and  intelli 
gence  of  their  leader,  the  career  of  the 
partisans  was  as  sleepless  and  rapid  as 
its  temper  was  now  unsparing  and  vin 
dictive.  To  conquer,  merely,  was  not  to 
complete  the  purpose  for  which  Marion's 
men  fought — to  destroy  was  their  object 
also;  and  so  resolute  had  they  shown 
themselves,  and  so  active  and  vigilant, 
that  to  root  them  out  was  as  difficult  as 
it  had  become  desirable. 

A  new  and  well-concerted  attempt  to 
annihilate  this  body  was  now  arranged  be 
tween  Colonels  Watson  and  Doyle.  The 
former  was  to  move  down  from  Camden, 
along  the  Santee ;  and  the  latter  was  to 
cross  Lynch's  creek,  and  follow  its  course 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


MARION  AND  COLONEL  WATSON. 


853 


on  the  eastern  bank.  They  were  to  unite 
their  forces  near  Snow's  island,  which  was 
the  favorite  hiding-place  of  the  "brigade." 

Marion  heard  first  of  the  approach  of 
Watson,  and  went  out  with  all  his  force 
to  meet  him.  At  Taucaw  swamp,  nearly 
opposite  to  the  month  of  the  present  San- 
tee  canal,  he  laid  an  ambush  for  his  ene 
my,  which  he  placed  under  the  command 
of  Colonel  Ilorry.  At  this  time,  he  had 
but  a  few  rounds  of  ammunition  for  each 
man.  His  orders  to  Horry  were,  to  give 
two  fires  and  retreat. 

A  second  ambush  was  placed  in  a  con 
tiguous  situation,  which  promised  certain 
advantages.  This  was  a  party  of  cavalry, 
under  the  command  of  Captain  Conyers. 
Horry's  ambuscade  gave  its  fires  with 
great  effect,  but  was  compelled  to  retire. 
Watson,  having  made  good  his  passage 
of  the  swamp,  sent  a  detachment  of  cav 
alry,  under  Major  Harrison,  in  pursuit  of 
Ilorry.  This  party  was  encountered  by 
Conyers,  who  slew  Harrison  with  his  own 
hand.  His  detachment  was  dispersed,  af 
ter  suffering  severe  loss  from  the  charge 
of  Conyers. 

Marion,  too  feeble  to  assail  his  oppo 
nent  openly,  continued  in  this  way  to  em 
barrass  his  progress  and  weaken  his  force, 
until  they  had  reached  nearly  to  the  low 
er  bridge  on  Black  river,  seven  miles  be 
low  King's  tree.  Here  Watson  made  a 
feint  of  taking  the  road  to  Georgetown. 
Too  weak  to  detach  a  party  to  the  bridge, 
Marion  took  an  advantageous  position  on 
that  road. 

Suddenly  wheeling,  Watson  changed 
his  course,  and  gained  possession  of  the 
bridge  on  the  western  side.  This  gave 


him  the  opening  to  a  very  important  pass, 
leading  into  the  heart  of  Williamsburg 
district  and  to  Snow's  island.  The  river, 
on  the  west,  runs  under  a  high  bluff;  the 
grounds  on  the  east  side  are  low,  and  the 
stream,  though  generally  fordable,  was  at 
that  time  swollen  by  freshets,  so  as  near 
ly  to  reach  the  summit  of  the  opposite 
shore.  This  prospect  seemed  to  appal  the 
British  colonel.  While  he  hesitated,  the 
less  wary  partisan  led  the  way  for  his 
troop, plunged  in,  and,  safely  reaching  the 
opposite  bank,  marched  forward  to  occu 
py  the  eastern  end  of  the  bridge.  Ma 
rion  now  detached  Major  James,  with  for 
ty  musketeers,  and  thirty  riflemen,  under 
M'Cottry,  to  burn  the  bridge. 

The  riflemen  were  posted  to  advan 
tage,  and  under  cover,  on  the  river-bank. 
The  attempt  of  the  musketeers  to  burn 
the  bridge  drew  upon  them  the  fire  of 
Watson's  artillery.  Against  this  Marion 
had  provided,  and  the  artillerists  of  the 
enemy  were  picked  off  by  M'Cottry's  ri 
fles  as  fast  as  they  approached  to  apply 
their  matches  to  the  gun.  The  bridge 
was  fired  and  consumed  in  the  face  of 
the  enemy,  who,  baffled  and  harassed  at 
all  points,  turned  from  the  pursuit  of  the 
wary  partisan,  and  proceeded  by  forced 
marches  to  Georgetown. 

But  the  British  commander  was  not 
suffered  to  leave  behind  him  the  foe  whom 
his  pursuit  had  seemed  only  to  awaken. 
Marion  hung  upon  his  progress — now  up 
on  his  flanks,  now  in  front,  and  now  in  the 
rear — while  his  rifles  exacted  heavy  toll 
from  the  enemy  at  every  mile  in  their 
journey.  Watson,atlast,reached  George 
town  in  safety  j  but  the  implacable  rifle- 


854 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n 


men  had  followed  his  flying  footsteps  till 
the  latest  moment.  Never  had  man  been 
more  harassed  ;  and  the  complaint  of  the 
British  colonel,  that  Marion  would  not 
"fight  like  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman?  has 
passed,  from  its  ludicrous  solemnity,  into 
a  proverbial  phrase  of  merriment  in  the 
South. 

Colonel  Doyle,  the  coadjutor  of  Wat 
son,  was  encountered  in  like  manner,  and 
with  similar  results.  A  single  conflict 
drove  him  back  to  Camden,  with  a  con 
siderable  loss  in  men  and  a  greater  loss 
in  baggage. 

This  affair  was  followed,  on  the  part  of 
the  brigade,  by  a  sharp  rencontre  with  a 
body  of  tories.  These  were  routed,  and 
their  captain  slain.  A  nephew  of  Marion 
also  fell  in  the  conflict.  A  second  descent 
which  Marion  made  upon  Georgetown, 
about  this  time,  was  more  successful  than 
the  first.  It  fell  into  his  hands,  but  was 
afterward  set  on  fire  by  an  armed  party 
from  a  British  vessel,  and  upward  of  forty 
houses  were  reduced  to  ashes. 

After  the  return  of  the  command  er-in- 
chief  of  the  southern  department  into  the 
state  from  his  pursuit  of  Lord  Cornwallis, 
Marion  ceased  to  act  independently;  and 
the  exploits  of  his  brigade,  no  longer  act 
ing  by  itself,  became  merged  in  those  of 
the  liberating  army.* 

General  Greene's  resolution  to  carry 
the  war  into  South  Carolina  had  not  been 
taken  without  a  consciousness  of  its  haz 
ards.  "  The  manoeuvre  will  be  critical 
and  dangerous,"  he  wrote  to  Washington, 

*  For  many  interesting  details  connected  with  the  guer 
illa  warfare  in  the  Carolinas,  during  the  campaigns  of  1780 
and  1781,  we  are  indebted  to  Simins's  admirable  "History 
of  South  Carolina,"  revised  edition,  1859. 


"  but  necessity  obliges  me  to  commit  my 
self  to  chance.  The  troops  will  be  ex 
posed  to  every  hardship  ;  but  I  shall  share 
it  with  them."  The  scheme  was  bold  and 
full  of  peril,  but  its  apparent  temerity  was 
not  without  justification.  Those  active 
partisans,  Sumter,  Marion,  and  Pickens, 
had,  by  their  successful  guerilla  warfare, 
as  we  have  already  shown,  prepared  the 
way,  and  Greene  knew  that  he  could  al 
ways  calculate  upon  their  energetic  co 
operation.  It  is  true,  he  was  turning  his 
back  upon  a  weakened  enemy;  but  Lord 
Cornwallis  was  in  such  a  position,  that, 
move  as  he  might,  he  could  hardly  win 
his  game.  If  he  followed  the  American 
general  into  South  Carolina,  Virginia  and 
North  Carolina  would  be  relieved  from 
the  pressure  of  British  influence;  and  if 
he  carried  the  war  into  the  latter  states, 
his  possession  of  the  first  was  endangered. 

General  Greene,  accordingly, 
broke  up  his  encampment  on  the 
Deep  river,  in  Chatham  county,  North 
Carolina,  where  he  had  given  over  the 
pursuit  of  the  British  army,  and,  after  a 
tedious  march  for  one  hundred  and  thir 
ty  miles  through  an  exhausted  and  hos 

tile  country,  at  length  arrived 

7  ° 

before  Oamden.     He  had  hoped 

to  take  the  place  by  surprise.  While  he 
was  detained,  however,  for  several  days 
on  the  banks  of  the  Pedee,  for  want  of 
boats,  the  active  tory  emissaries  took  care 
to  carry  information  of  his  approach  to 
Lord  Kawdon  at  Camden.  This  is  a  beau 
tiful  village,  situated  on  a  plain  covered 
on  the  south  and  east  sides  by  the  Wa- 
teree,  and  a  creek  which  empties  itself 
into  that  river.  On  the  western  and  north- 


April  5, 


April  19, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        MARION  AND  LEE  CAPTURE  FORT  WATSON. 


855 


ern  sides  it  was  guarded  by  six  strong  re 
doubts,  and  Earl  Raw  don's  garrison  num 
bered  about  nine  hundred  choice  troops. 
His  lordship,  now  on  the  alert,  placed 
Camden  in  such  a  posture  of  defence,  that 
General  Greene  found  it  futile  to  attempt 
to  assault  it.  He  accordingly  took  post 
on  the  Wexhaw  road,  within  half  a  mile 
of  the  British  lines,  with  the  hope  of  pro 
voking  the  earl  from  his  stronghold.  The 

o  o 

challenge,  however,  was  not  accepted,  and 
the  American  general  thereupon  moved 
his  troops  to  Hobkirk's  hill,  a  mile  and  a 
quarter  farther  away  from  Camden. 

On  his  march  from  North  Carolina,  Gen 
eral  Greene  had  detached  Colonel  Henry 
Lee,  with  his  legion,  to  join  Marion,  and 
co-operate  with  that  partisan  in  an  expe 
dition  against  the  British  post  of  Fort 
Watson,  on  the  San  tee.  Lee  having,  with 
no  little  difficulty,  succeeded  in 
finding  Marion — "the  Swamp- 
fox" — amid  the  cover  of  the  morasses  of 
Black  river,  started  out  with  him  on  the 
proposed  enterprise.  The  enemy  were 
posted  in  a  stockade  fort,  erected  on  one 
of  the  largest  of  the  old  Indian  mounds 
which  skirt  the  San  tee.  It  was  elevated 
about  forty  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
plain,  and  far  from  any  eminence  which 
could  command  it.  Its  garrison  consisted 
of  about  eighty  regulars  and  forty  loyal 
ists,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  M'Kay  of 
the  regular  troops.  Unprovided  as  were 
Marion  and  Lee  with  artillery  and  in- 
trenching-tools,  it  was  impregnable  to  the 
besiegers,  who  despaired  of  a  successful 
assault,  since  the  steep  sides  and  strong 
palisades  of  the  eminence  discouraged  any 
attempt  to  storm  it. 


April  14, 


One  of  the  first  efforts  made  to  subdue 
the  fort  was  by  cutting  off  the  garrison 
from  Scott's  lake,  by  which  it  was  supplied 
with  water.  From  this  danger  M'Kay  re 
lieved  himself  by  sinking  a  well  within 
the  stockade.  Thus  foiled,  and  without 
cannon,  the  besiegers  must  finally  have 
been  baffled,  but  for  one  of  those  ingeni 
ous  devices  which  are  perhaps  more  read 
ily  found  by  a  primitive  than  by  an  edu 
cated  people. 

At  a  short  distance  from  the  fort  there 
grew  a  small  wood,  which  suggested  the 
proper  means  of  annoyance.  From  this, 
Major  Mayham,  of  South  Carolina,  sug 
gested  that  they  should  "cut  down  a  num 
ber  of  suitable  trees,  and  with  them  erect 
a  large,  strong,  oblong  pen,  to  be  covered 
on  the  top  with  a  floor  of  logs,  and  pro 
tected  on  the  side  opposite  to  the  fort 
with  a  breastwork  of  light  timber."  The 
expedient  was  adopted,  and  the  "pen" 
forthwith  constructed  during  the  night, 
within  a  proper  distance  of  the  fort,  and 
dignified  with  the  appellation  of  "May- 
ham's  tower."  This  enabled  the  assail 
ants  to  command  the  fort.  At  earliest 
dawn  the  next  morning,  a  party 
of  riflemen  took  post  in  the  tow 
er ;  and  a  detachment  of  musketeers,  un 
der  the  cover  of  the  riflemen,  advanced  to 
make  a  lodgment  in  the  enemy's  ditch, 
supported  by  the  infantry  of  Lee's  legion 
with  fixed  bayonets.  When  the  light  en 
abled  the  riflemen  from  their  lofty  tower, 
which  overlooked  the  fort,  to  single  out 
their  victims,  a  shower  of  bullets  drove 
the  enemy  from  their  works.  Lieutenant 
M'Kay,  being  destitute  of  artillery,  was 
soon  forced  to  capitulate ;  and  Marion, 


April  23. 


856 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAIJT  II. 


pushing  his  prisoners  before  him,  hurried 
forward  to  join  Greene.  Thus  a  contri 
vance  which  the  lion-hearted  Richard  had 
used  with  such  effect  against  the  Saracens 
at  the  siege  of  Acre,  in  the  days  of  the 
crusades,  proved  no  less  effective  in  the 
hands  of  those  equally  chivalrous  modern 
soldiers,  Marion  and  Lee. 

Cblonel  Watson,  while  on  his  march  to 
succor  the  fort  of  his  name,  had  been  re 
called  to  Camden  by  Lord  Rawdon,  who 
could  ill  spare  any  of  his  small  force,  now 
that  he  was  threatened  by  the  energetic 
Greene.  Lee  and  Marion  were  on  the 
watch,  and  so  manoeuvred  that  they  them 
selves  were  in  a  position  to  form  a  junc 
tion  with  Greene  long  before  Watson 
could  effect  one  with  Rawdon.  His  lord 
ship,  thus  discovering  that  delay  would 
probably  benefit  his  enemy  more  than 
himself,  determined  to  give  battle  to  the 
American  commander. 

Hobkirk's  hill,  where  General  Greene 
had  taken  post,  was  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  in  advance  of  the  British  redoubts. 
It  is  a  narrow  sand-ridge,  of  little  eleva 
tion,  which  divides  the  head-springs  of 
two  small  streams,  the  one  emptying  into 
the  Wateree  river,  the  other  into  Pine- 
tree  creek. 

A  deserter  having  come  in  durin"-  the 

o  o 

night,  with  exact  information  of 
the  American  position  on  Hob- 
kirk's  hill,  and  also  with  intelligence  that 
the  expected  artillery  had  not  yet  arrived 
in  the  American  camp,  the  British  com 
mander  decided  upon  immediate  action 
on  the  coming  day. 

Accordingly,  at  nine  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  Lord  Rawdon,  having  left  Cam- 


April  24, 


25. 


den  in  charge  of  his  convalescents,  led  out 
his  nine  hundred  men  (which  was  all  the 
effective  force  he  could  muster)  to  the  at 
tack.  The  American  camp  was 

1  J    il  L.         xl 

cheered  that  morning  by  the  ar 
rival  of  abundant  supplies,  and  of  the  ar 
tillery,  upon  the  absence  of  which  his 
lordship  was  so  greatly  calculating.  Pro 
visions  had  been  scarce,  and  now  being 
plentifully  distributed,  most  of  the  troops 
were  busy  in  cooking  or  feasting;  some 
were  washing  their  clothes,  and  others 
were  cleaning  their  muskets.  General 
Greene  himself  was  breakfasting;  and  al 
though,  in  the  well-ordered  camp,  there 
were  all  the  usual  precautions  against 
surprise,  there  was  no  suspicion  of  the 
approach  of  the  enemy  (who  had  begun 
their  march  at  dawn,  and  silently  pushed 
on  toward  the  American  position  by  a  cir 
cuitous  way,  under  the  cover  of  a  swamp- 
forest),  until  the  British  vanguard  fell  up 
on  the  republican  pickets.  These  acted 
with  the  utmost  coolness,  gathering  in  the 
videttes,  and  forming  with  great  deliber 
ation  under  Colonel  Kirk  wood's  Delaware 
command.  His  position  formed  the  Amer 
ican  advance,  and  met  the  first  shock  of 
the  enemy's  charge.  Here  the  conflict 
was  maintained  for  a  while  with  singular 
obstinacy  ;  and  this  little  squad  retired 
slowly,  fighting  with  resolute  determina 
tion,  step  by  step,  as  they  receded  before 
the  accumulating  pressure  of  the  foe. 

The  noise  of  the  firing  aroused  the  en 
tire  American  camp.  The  drums  beat  to 
arms,  and  Greene  sprang  to  his  saddle, 
and  rapidly  formed  his  army.  The  Vir 
ginia  brigade,  with  General  linger  at  its 
head,  having  under  him  Lieutenant-Colo- 


UKV  OLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  IIOBKIRK'S  HILL. 


857 


nels  Campbell  and  Hawes,  was  posted  on 
the  right  of  the  road  ;  the  first  regiment, 
under  the  former,  composing  the  extreme 
right.  The  Maryland  brigade, led  by  Colo 
nel  Otho  Williams,  seconded  by  Colonel 
Gunby  and  Lieutenant-Colonels  Ford  and 
Howard,  took  the  left.  The  three  field- 
pieces,  conducted  by  Colonel  Harrison, 
were  placed  in  the  centre ;  and  the  cav 
alry,  under  Colonel  Washington,  together 
with  two  hundred  and  fifty  North  Carolina 
militia,  under  Colonel  Reade,  were  held 
back  as  a  reserve. 

LordRawdon  advanced  with  the  royal 
American  regiment  on  his  right,  the  New- 
York  volunteers  in  his  centre,  and  the 
sixty-third  regiment  on  his  left.  His  right 
wing  was  supported  by  Robertson's  corps, 
and  his  left  by  the  volunteers  of  Ireland. 
The  reserve  consisted  of  the  tory  regi 
ment  raised  in  South  Carolina,  with  a  few 
dragoons,  who  composed  all  the  cavalry. 
Neither  force  was  large,  but  Greene's  pre 
ponderated,  and  the  Americans  felt  con 
fident  of  victory.  The  number  of  Euro 
pean  troops  engaged  in  this  conflict  was 
very  small.  Most  of  Rawdon's  army  was 
composed  of  Americans  by  birth  or  im 
migration.  The  front  which  he  advanced 
was  comparatively  small,  nearly  one  half 
of  his  troops  being  in  reserve.  He  had, 
besides,  taken  a  lesson  from  the  American 
leaders,  and  employed  flanking-parties  of 
picked  tory  riflemen,  who  moved  abreast 
of  his  wing  among  the  trees,  and  did  much 
toward  deciding  the  issue  of  the  day. 

"Greene,"  to  use  the  words  of  Lee,  an 
historian  as  well  as  hero  of  the  southern 
campaign,  "  examining  attentively  the 
British  disposition,  discovered  the  very 

108 


narrow  front  it  presented  ;  and,  gratified 
as  he  was  with  the  opportunity,  so  unex 
pectedly  offered,  of  completing  by  one 
blow  his  first  object,  he  determined  to 
avail  himself  of  the  advantage  given  by 
the  mode  of  attack. 

"  He  directed  the  lieutenant-colonels 
Campbell  and  Ford  to  turn  the  enemy's 
flanks;  he  ordered  the  centre  regiments 
to  advance  upon  him,  ascending  the  height 
(Hobkirk's  hill,  upon  which  Greene  was 
posted);  and  detached  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Washington  with  his  cavalry  to  gain 
his  rear.  Rawdon  no  sooner  cast  his  eyes 
on  our  disposition,  than  he  perceived  the 
danger  to  which  his  unequal  front  ex 
posed  him,  and,  bringing  up  the  volun 
teers  of  Ireland  into  line,  he  remedied  the 
defect  seized  by  Greene  in  time  to  avert 
the  expected  consequences. 

"  The  battle  opened  from  right  to  left 
with  a  vigor  which  promised  a  keen  and 
sanguinary  contest;  but  the  superiority 
of  our  fire,  augmented  by  that  of  our  well- 
served  artillery,  must  have  borne  down 
all  opposition,  had  the  American  line 
maintained  itself  with  becoming  firmness. 
On  the  right,  Huger  evidently  gained 
ground;  Washington  was  carrying  every 
thing  before  him  in  the  rear;  and  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Hawes,  with  fixed  bayo 
nets,  conformable  to  order,  was  descend 
ing  the  hill,  ready  to  fall  upon  the  New- 
York  volunteers. 

"In  this  flattering  moment, the  veteran 
regiment  of  Gunby,  having  first  joined  in 
the  fire,  in  violation  of  orders,  paused,  its 
right  falling  back.  Gunby  unfortunately 
directed  the  disordered  battalion  to  rally 
by  retiring  to  its  right  company.  Retro- 


853 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


grade  being  the  consequence  of  this  order, 
the  British  line,  giving  a  shout,  pressed 
forward  with  redoubled  ardor;  and  the 
regiment  of  Gunby,  considered  as  the  bul 
wark  of  the  army,  never  recovered  from 
the  panic  with  \\  hich  it  was  unaccounta 
bly  seized." 

In  forming  his  line,  before  the  engage 
ment,  Greene,  conjecturing  that  the  ene 
my  knew  nothing  of  his  having  artillery, 
had  closed  the  two  centre  regiments,  so 
that  it  was  completely  masked.  "The 
effect  may  well  be  imagined,"  observes 
Simms,  "  when  these  two  regiments,  sud 
denly  retiring  from  the  centre,  left  (hem 
free  to  vomit  their  showers  of  grape  upon 
the  dense  ranks  of  the  enemy  preparing 
for  the  charge. 

"  The  confusion  and  dismay  were  con 
spicuous.  The  British  squadrons  sank, 
and  wheeled,  and  fled,  beneath  the  terri 
ble  discharge  ;  and  nothing  more  seemed 
to  be  necessary  than  to  give  the  command 
to  close  upon  their  flanks  with  the  regi 
ments  right  and  left,  and  cut  them  off 
from  escape.  The  order  was  given  :  '  Let 
the  cavalry  make  for  their  rear ;  Colonel 
Campbell  will  wheel  upon  their  left;  Colo 
nel  Ford  upon  their  right;  the  whole  cen 
tre  will  charge — charge  with  trailed  arms  !' 

"Such  were  the  commands  of  Greene, 
which  his  aids  rushed  to  convey  to  the 
several  subordinate  officers.  The  roll  of 
the  drums  announced  their  tenor;  and 
Washington,  at  the  head  of  his  cavalry, 
disappeared  among  the  trees  which  lay 
between  his  troop  and  the  rear  of  the 
enemy. 

"The  American  general  already  be 
lieved  his  victory  to  be  secure.  But  he 


had  no  ordinary  adversary  in  Rawdon. 
With  the  quickness  of  instinct,  this  com 
mander  threw  out  his  supporting  columns ; 
and  the  Americans,  but  a  moment  before 
in  the  fullest  conviction  that  they  had  out 
flanked  the  enemy,  were  themselves  out 
flanked.  Their  wings  were  enfiladed  and 
their  rear  threatened. 

"At  this  crisis,  when  everything  de 
pended  upon  the  greatest  coolness,  and  a 
composure  which  might  look  undaunted 
upon  the  scene,  the  first  Maryland  regi 
ment,  by  excellence  esteemed,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  Roman  eulogium,  the  tenth  legion 
of  the  American  army  —  that  band  to 
which  all  eyes  were  turned  for  example  ; 
which  had  conquered  the  British  with 
their  own  weapon,  the  bayonet,  at  the 
noble  passage  of  valor  at  the  Cowpens ; 
which  alone  had  fought  half  of  the  battle 
at  Guilford,  and  obtained  more  than  half 
of  the  triumph  of  that  no  less  bloody  day 
—  now  unaccountably  shrank  away  from 
the  issue,  in  a  panic  which  could  not  be 
overcome ! 

"Greene,  at  this  moment,  was  leading 
on  the  Virginia  regiment  of  Campbell  in 
person,  on  the  extreme  right,  when  he 
was  called  away  by  the  confusion  of  the 
centre.  Vainly,  by  voice  and  gesture,  did 
he  seek  to  restore  their  confidence,  and 
bring  them  once  more  into  the  action. 
They  heard,  and  halted;  but  the  day  was 
already  lost.  They  were  already  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hill,  and  the  cheers  and 
clamors  of  the  enemy  now  commanded 
his  attention  in  another  quarter.  Urging 
his  horse  up  the  eminence,  he  saw  for  the 
first  time  the  utmost  extent  ot  his  mis 
fortune.  But  a  single  regiment  remained 


REVOLUTIONARY.]       THE  DEFEAT.— EXPLOIT  OF  COLONEL  WASHINGTON". 


859 


entire.  His  artillery  was  uncovered  on 
the  summit  of  the  hill.  To  bring  his 
troops  off  in  order,  and  to  save  the  artil 
lery,  were  the  only  remaining  objects; 
and,  amid  a  shower  of  bullets,  the  Ameri 
can  general  delivered  his  commands  with 
composure,  to  draw  off  the  right  and  left 
regiments  and  form  them  on  that  of  Gun- 
by,  which  was  now  rallied;  while  their 
retreat  should  be  covered  by  the  second 
Virginia. 

"  This  order,  well  executed,  left  to 
Greene  the  choice  of  deliberate  retreat 
or  a  renewal  of  the  battle.  During  its 
execution,  the  main  efforts  of  the  British 
were  to  secure  possession  of  the  artillery. 
Horse  and  foot  were  ascending  the  hill, 
and  the  matrosses  were  about  to  fly, 
when  the  American  general  applied  his 
own  hand  to  the  drag-ropes.  This  ex 
ample  was  not  to  be  withstood.  A  little 
band  rallied  to  their  rescue,  bearing  their 
loaded  muskets  in  one  hand  while  apply 
ing  the  other  to  the  ropes.  The  fight 
was  renewed  in  this  endeavor. 

"  A  British  corps  appeared  on  the  hill, 
moving  to  the  charge.  Dropping  the 
ropes,  the  little  troop,  forming  in  the  rear 
of  the  artillery,  met  them  with  a  fire 
which,  repeated  with  deliberate  resolu 
tion  until  escape  was  impossible,  was  ter 
ribly  destructive.  Thrice  was  the  attempt 
renewed,  and  with  the  same  effect.  The 
assailants  were  driven  off  with  loss,  until 
an  overpowering  force  of  infantry  and  ri 
flemen  came  to  their  assistance,  and  every 
man  of  this  gallant  little  band,  but  forty- 
five  in  number,  was  either  killed  or  ta 
ken.  The  artillery  now  seemed  lost ;  but 
at  this  crisis,  Colonel  Washington  charged 


in  upon  the  road,  and  put  an  end  to  the 
strife  around  it. 

"  This  officer,  in  addition  to  the  rescue 
of  the  artillery,  captured  more  than  two 
hundred  prisoners.  His  humanity  is  al 
leged  by  the  British  to  have  been  detri 
mental  to  his  objects.  A  severe  military 
judgment  insists  that  he  should  have  cut 
down  instead  of  making  captives."  This 
would  have  been  the  course  of  the  mer 
ciless  Tarleton  under  like  circumstances. 
Washington's  prisoners  encumbered  his 
movements,  and  the  time  lost  in  taking- 

7  O 

them  might  have  been  of  lasting  benefit 
if  it  had  been  employed  unsparingly  upon 
the  British  rear. 

Lord  Rawdon  was  not  in  a  condition 
to  pursue  the  Americans  far.  The  latter 
halted  at  a  distance  of  two  miles,  in  order 
to  recover  stragglers  and  take  re 
freshment.  At  noon,  the  retreat 
was  resumed,  and  the  army  finally  en 
camped  at  Saunders's  creek,  about  four 
miles  from  the  scene  of  action,  to  which 
place  Colonel  Washington  was  ordered 
back  to  reconnoitre.  As  he  proceeded  in 
obedience  to  this  command,  he  was  told 
that  Earl  Rawdon  had  returned  to  Cam- 
den,  leaving  Captain  Coffin  with  his  cav 
alry  and  a  body  of  mounted  infantry  in 
charge  of  the  field  of  battle. 

This  intelligence  suggested  to  Colonel 
Washington  the  prospect  of  anew  achieve 
ment.  Retiring  with  his  cavalry  into  a 
thicket  on  the  roadside,  he  pushed  for 
ward  a  small  detachment,  with  orders  to 
approach  under  covert  till  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  enemy's  position.  His 
stratagem  produced  the  desired  effect  : 
Coffin's  whole  troop  pursued,  and  fell  into 


April  25. 


860 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAET  II. 


the  ambuscade.  Washington  rose  from 
liis  hiding-place  as  they  reached  it,  and 
the  entire  party  were  either  cut  to  pieces 
or  compelled  to  save  themselves  by  flight. 
The  field  of  Ilobkirk  thus  actually  re 
mained  in  possession  of  the  Americans.* 
The  loss  of  the  two  armies  in  the  main 
battle  was  about  equal,  although  that  of 
the  British,  by  reason  of  the  field-pieces 
which  the  Americans  brought  into  the 


action,  was  somewhat  greater ;  it  amount 
ed  to  nearly  three  hundred  each.  Two 
.of  the  bravest  of  the  American  officers, 
Colonel  Ford  and  Captain  Beattie,  were 
killed  in  the  beginning  of  the  fight,  and 
their  fall  was  a  principal  cause  of  the  un 
fortunate  disorder  which  followed  among 
the  troops.  The  British  escaped  without 
the  death  of  a  single  officer  of  note,  but 
six  were  taken  prisoners. 


CHAPTER    CI. 

General  Greene  disappointed,  but  not  discouraged. — Junction  of  Colonel  Watson  with  Lord  Rawdon. — Greene  retires.-- 
Hot  pursuit  by  Rawdon. — His  Lordship  checked.  —  Partisan  warfare  again. — Back  to  the  Mountains. — A  Gloomy  In 
terview. — Good  News — Rawdon  evacuates  Camden. — Its  Destruction.— Miserable  Fate  of  the  Loyalist  Inhabitants. — 
Vigor  of  the  Partisan  Leaders. — Fall  of  Posts. — Lee  and  Pickens  take  Fort  Griesson. — Desperate  Struggle. — Honor 
able  Capitulation. — Death  of  Griesson. — Reward  offered. — Greene  at  Ninety-Six. — New- York  Loyalists. — Judicious 
Defences. — Kosciusko's  Parallels. — The  Star- Fort. — A  Sally. — Its  Success. — Greene  more  cautious. — Arrival  of  Lee. 
— The  Summons  to  surrender. — Defiant  Answer  of  Cruger. — Fire  opened. — Picking  off  the  Gunners. — Night-Sal 
lies. — Desperate  Position  of  the  Enemy. — Naked  Negroes. — Flaming  Arrows. — Attempts  to  tire.  —  Renewed  Hope.— 
A  Despatch  from  Earl  Rawdon. — His  Lordship  to  the  Rescue. — Three  Alternatives. — Storming. — The  Assault. — The 
Ever-ready  Cruger. — Desperate  Fighting. — Greene  withdraws  from  Ninety-Six. 


1781. 


GENERAL  GREENE,  after  his  unex 
pected  defeat  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  re 
tired  sadly  disappointed,  though  not  dis 
couraged.  Ever  ready  to  act  as  the  oc 
casion  demanded,  he  had  hardly  gathered 
his  scattered  troops,  when  he  prepared  to 
thwart  the  manoeuvres  of  his  young  and 
spirited  antagonist,  and  to  deprive  him  of 
the  benefits  of  his  victory. 

Another  disappointment  soon  came  to 
the  American  general,  however,  in  news 
of  the  successful  junction  of  Colonel  Wat 
son  and  his  force  with  Lord  Rawdon,  at 
Camden.  This  union  had  been  effected 
notwithstanding  the  vigilance  of  Marion, 

*  Simins. 


Lee,  and  Sumter,  who  were  beating  the 
country  around,  and  of  Greene  himself, 
who,  from  his  camp  on  the  Wateree,  was 
eagerly  on  the  watch. 

Very  soon  after  the  battle  of  Hobkirk, 
Greene  detached  a  reinforcement  to  Ma 
rion  on  the  Nelson's-ferry  road ; 

A   k  A*       W    *  Ma?  3< 

and  he  now  crossed  the  Wateree 
with  his  main  body,  and  took  such  posi 
tions  as  would  enable  him  to  prevent  suc 
cors  from  going  into  Camden  from  that 
quarter. 

Earl  Rawdon,  being  thus  strengthened 
by  Watson  and  his  four  hundred  men, 
was  emboldened  to  challenge  the  Ameri 
cans  to  another  battle.  General  Greene, 


REVOLUTIONARY.]        LORD  RAWDON  EVACUATES  AND  BURNS  CAMDEN. 


861 


May  8, 


however,  disappointed  in  not  receiving  his 
expected  reinforcements  from  Virginia, 
a.nd  finding  his  troops  fagged  and  discour 
aged,  thought  it  more  expedient  to  retire 
before  the  enemy.  He  accord 
ingly  moved  several  miles  far 
ther  into  the  country.  His  impetuous 
young  antagonist,  nevertheless,  seemed 
determined  to  provoke  an  engagement, 
and,  forcing  the  American  pickets,  pressed 
on  to  strike  Greene  in  his  encampment. 
The  earl,  however,  finding  his  enemy  too 
firmly  posted  to  be  dislodged,  prudently 
withdrew  at  the  last  moment. 

The  boldly  offensive  attitude  of  Lord 
Rawdon,  now  that  he  was  reinforced, gave 
the  American  commander  great  anxiety, 
conscious  as  he  was  of  the  weakness  of 
his  own  troops.  On  the  evening  of  the 
day  following  his  lordship's  dar 
ing  demonstration,  as  the  patriot 
general  sat  at  the  table  with  a  map  be 
fore  him,  Colonel  Davie  entered.  "  You 
see,"  exclaimed  Greene,  "that  we  must 
again  resume  the  partisan  war.  Rawdon 
has  now  a  decided  superiority  of  force. 
He  has  pushed  us  to  a  sufficient  distance 
to  leave  him  free  to  act  on  any  object 
within  his  reach.  He  will  strike  at  Lee 
and  Marion,  reinforce  himself  by  all  the 
troops  that  can  be  spared  from  the  sev 
eral  garrisons,  and  push  me  back  to  the 

mountains You  observe  our  dangerous 

and  critical  situation.  The  regular  troops 
are  now  reduced  to  a  handful,  and  I  am 
without  militia  to  perform  the  convoy  or 
detachment  service,  or  any  prospect  of 

receiving  any  reinforcement We  must 

always  calculate  on  the  maxim  that  your 
enemy  will  do  what  he  ought  to  do.  We 


May  9, 


will  dispute  every  inch  of  ground  in  the 
best  manner  we  can ;  but  Rawdon  will 
push  me  back  to  the  mountains.  Lord 
Cornwallis  will  establish  a  chain  of  posts 
along  James  river;  and  the  southern  states, 
thus  cut  off",  will  die  like  the  tail  of  a  snake  !" 

After  this  gloomy  interview,  Colonel 
Davie,  at  the  request  of  Greene,  retired 
to  write  to  some  of  his  friends  in  Phila 
delphia,  who  were  members  of  Congress, 
and  inform  them  of  the  imminent  danger 
of  the  army  and  its  pressing  needs.  At 
daylight,  the  next  morning,  the  colonel, 
who  had  been  up  all  night  writing  his  let 
ters,  was  summoned  to  headquarters,  when 
General  Greene  met  him  with  a  beaming 
face  and  these  encouraging  words :  "  I 
have  sent  to  inform  you  that  Rawdon  is 
preparing  to  evacuate  Camden  !  That 
place  was  the  key  of  the  enemy's  line  of 
posts.  They  will  now  all  fall,  or  be  evac 
uated.  All  will  go  well.  Burn  your  let 
ters.  I  shall  march  immediately  to  the 
Congaree !" 

Lord  Rawdon,  finding  that  there  was 
no  hope  of  aid  from  Cornwallis,  of  whose 
march  to  Virginia  he  had  just  received 
intelligence  —  that  his  supplies  were  fail 
ing  daily,  and  that  his  force  was  too  small 
to  allow  of  his  detaching  any  portion  of 
it  to  strengthen  the  weaker  posts — de 
termined  to  retire  toward  Charleston,  in 
order  to  secure  his  communication  with 
that  city.  Cainden  was  evacu 
ated,  and  the  jail,  mills,  and  pri 
vate  dwellings  of  the  town,  were  burned. 
A  great  deal  of  the  baggage  of  the  army 
was  also  consumed  in  the  flames,  that  his 
lordship  might  move  with  greater  celeri 
ty.  "  The  British  commander,"  remarks 


May  10, 


862 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II. 


Simms,  "baffled  and  disappointed,  wreak 
ed  his  vengeance  upon  the  town  which 
he  had  so  long  garrisoned,  but  which  he 
felt  himself  no  longer  able  to  maintain. 
Camden  was  reduced  to  ashes,  and  amid 
the  shrieks  of  its  people,  and  the  *  curses, 
not  loud,  but  deep,'  of  the  loyalists  whom 
he  could  no  longer  protect,  Lord  Rawdon 
prepared  to  descend  the  country.  The 
fall  of  Fort  Watson  had  broken  the  chain 
of  communication  with  Charleston,  and 
Marion  was  even  now  busy  in  the  leaguer 
of  Fort  Motte.  Having  devastated  the 
country,  it  no  longer  yielded  support  to 
Rawdon's  troops.  These  the  British  com 
mander  resolved  to  save,  though  by  the 
loss  of  the  post  and  the  confidence  of  the 
tories.  These  miserable  people,  whose  sav 
age  fury  had  so  long  hunted  their  coun 
trymen  with  fire  and  sword,  no  longer  pro 
tected  from  their  vengeance  by  the  arms 
of  the  British,  were  compelled  to  abandon 
their  homes  and  follow  the  fortunes  of  the 
enemy.  They  dared  not  await  the  jus 
tice  of  the  Americans.  Hundreds  followed 
his  lordship,  scorned  and  despised  by  their 
allies,  and  hated  by  their  countrymen. 
Their  history  may  be  dismissed  in  this 
place.  After  sharing  all  the  vicissitudes 
of  an  army  retiring  before  a  pursuing  foe, 
they  reached  Charleston,  and  built  for 
themselves  a  settlement  of  huts  without 
the  lines.  This  hamlet,  by  a  miserable 
mockery,  was  called  'Rawdontoivn?  Here 
men,  women,  and  children,  were  crowded 
together  in  a  wretched  condition  of  pov 
erty  and  shame.  They  had  dwelt  hap 
pily  on  their  farms  near  Camden;  and 
perished  in  the  utmost  destitution,  utter 
ly  unnoticed  and  unassisted  by  those  for 


whom  they  had  sacrificed  the  ties  of  so 
ciety  and  all  the  first  claims  of  country. 
The  victims  equally  of  disease  and  want, 
they  died,  to  use  the  emphatic  language 
of  that  time,  like  '  rotten  sheep,'  upon  the 
suburbs." 

In  the  meantime,  the  American  parti 
san  leaders  were  active.  British  post 
after  post  fell  rapidly  before  them,  and 
completed  the  recovery  of  the  state  to 
within  thirty  miles  of  the*  sea.  General 
Greene,  concluding,  after  the  evacuation 
of  Camden  by  Lord  Rawdon,  that  it  would 
be  the  earl's  object  to  withdraw  his  posts 
on  the  Congaree,  and  concentrate  them 
below  the  Santee,  despatched  expresses 
to  Marion  and  Sumter  to  prepare  them 
selves  for  such  an  event.  He  himself,  or 
dering  the  army  to  proceed  by  the  Cam 
den  road  for  the  Congaree,  took  an  escort 
of  cavalry  and  moved  down  in  person 
toward  Fort  Motte. 

On  reaching  M'Cord's  ferry,  Greene  re 
ceived  the  tidings  of  the  capitulation  of 
Fort  Motte.  This  post  lay  above  the  fork 
on  the  south  side  of  the  Congaree.  The 
works  of  the  British  were  built  around 
the  mansion-house  of  the  lady  whose  name 
it  bore,  and  from  which,  in  their  savage 
recklessness  of  shame,  the  British  officers 
had  expelled  her.  It  was  a  noble  dwel 
ling,  of  considerable  value,  but  not  of  so 
much  worth  as  to  abridge  the  patriotism 
of  the  high-spirited  owner.  Defended  by 
a  strong  garrison,  under  a  resolute  com 
mander,  the  fort  promised  to  baffle  for  a 
long  time  the  progress  of  the  besiegers. 
Under  these  circumstances,  Mrs.  Motte, 
who  had  been  driven  for  shelter  to  a  neigh 
boring  hovel,  produced  an  Indian  bo\v, 


RKVOLUTIONAKY.] 


CAPTURE  OF  BRITISH  FORTS. 


863 


May  12, 


which,  with  a  quiver  of  arrows,  she  pre 
sented  to  the  American  general.  "  Take 
these,"  she  said,  "  and  expel  the  enemy. 
These  will  enable  you  to  fire  the  house." 
Her  earnest  plea  that  this  course  might 
be  adopted,  prevailed  with  the  reluctant 
Marion.  Combustibles  were  fastened  to 
the  arrows,  which  were  shot  into 
the  roof  of  the  dwelling;  and  the 
patriotic  woman  rejoiced  in  the  destruc 
tion  of  her  property,  when  it  secured  the 
triumph  of  her  countrymen. 

Driven  out  from  their  place  of  shelter, 
the  garrison  at  Fort  Motte  was  forced  to 
surrender;  and  the  force  under  Marion 
was  ready  for  operation  in  other  quarters. 
A  portion  of  it,  under  Colonel  Lee,  was 
immediately  despatched  by  Greene,  as  the 
van  of  the  army,  for  the  reduction  of  Fort 
Granby,  situated  near  the  present  city  of 
Columbia,  and  at  about  the  centre  of  the 
state. 

The  fall  of  Fort  Motte  increased  the 
panic  of  the  British  ;  and,  two  days  after 
that  event,  they  evacuated  their 
post  at  Nelson's  ferry,  blew  up 
the  defensive  works,  and  destroyed  their 
stores. 

Fort  Granby,  after  a  brief  conflict,  was 
surrendered,  with  all  its  garrison,  consist 
ing  of  nearly  four  hundred  men. 
May  15,       °  J 

I  he  terms  oi  capitulation  granted 

by  Colonel  Lee  were  greatly  complained 
of  by  the  Carolinians.  These  terms  gave 
the  enemy  the  privilege  of  carrying  off 
their  baggage,  in  which  was  included  an 
immense  quantity  of  plunder.  The  ap 
proach  of  Lord  Rawdon,  with  his  wThole 
army,  is  said  to  have  hastened  the  opera 
tions  of  Lee,  and  to  have  led  to  the  lib- 


31  ay  11, 


end  concessions  which  he  made  to  the 
garrison;  but  he  has  incurred  the  re 
proach  of  hastening  the  capitulation,  in 
order  to  anticipate  the  arrival  of  General 
Sumter  and  the  main  army.  The  siege 
had  been  begun  some  time  previously  by 
Sumter,  who  had  left  Colonel  Taylor,  with 
a  strong  party,  to  maintain  his  position, 
while  he  himself  made  a  sudden  descent 
upon  the  enemy's  post  at  Orangeburg,  on 
the  North  Edisto,  in  which  he  was  thor 
oughly  successful.  Sumter  himself  con 
ceived  that  he  had  suffered  injury  by  the 
capitulation,  in  which  nothing  was  gained 
but  the  earlier  possession  of  a  post  which 
could  not  have  been  held  many  days  long 
er,  and  must  have  fallen,  without  condi 
tions  and  with  all  its  spoils,  into  the  hands 
of  the  Americans.  It  was  with  bitter  feel 
ings  that  the  whig  militia  beheld  the  cov 
ered  wagons  of  the  enemy  —  drawn  by 
their  own  horses,  and  which  they  knew 
to  be  filled  with  the  plunder  of  their  farms 
and  dwellings  —  driven  off  before  their 
eyes.* 

On  the  day  after  the   evacuation  of 
Camden,  the  garrison  at  Orange- 
burg,  numbering  about  one  hun 
dred  men,  with  all  their  stores  and  a  large 
supply  of  provisions,  surrendered  to  Gen 
eral  Sumter,  after  a  spirited  assault.     A 
little  later,  Colonel  Lee  sent  a 
detachment  of  his  legion,  under 
the  command  of  Major  Rudolph,  which 
reduced  the  British  post  at  Silver  Blufls. 

The  task  of  holding  Lord  Rawdon  in 
check  in  Charleston  was  confided  to  Ma 
rion  and  Sumter.  In  the  execution  of 
this  duty,  they  closed  in  upon  him,  until 

°  feiiams. 


May  21. 


804 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


he  established  a  line  of  fortified  posts,  ex 
pending  from  Georgetown,  by  the  way  of 
Monk's  Corner,  Dorchester,  &c.,  to  Coo- 
sawhatchie.  The  British  were  frequent 
ly  harassed  by  the  partisans,  who  made 
incursions  within  this  line  ;  but  the  force 
of  the  assailants  was  not  adequate  to  any 
serious  attack  upon  any  one  of  them,  that 
of  Georgetown  alone  excepted.  This  sta 
tion,  on  Winyaw  bay,  having  been  left 
with  a  small  garrison,  and  being  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  line  by  swamps  and 
water-courses  of  such  magnitude  as  to 
prevent  any  sudden  relief  from  reaching 
it,  was  attacked  and  carried  by 
Marion.  The  British  fled  to  their 
galleys ;  while  the  American  leader  de 
liberately  moved  all  the  military  stores 
and  public  property  up  the  Pedee,  demol 
ished  the  fortifications,  and  returned  with 
out  loss  to  his  position  in  St.  Stephens. 

Thus  in  the  space  of  about  three  weeks, 
the  British  lost  six  posts,  and  abandoned 
all  the  northeastern  extremity  of  South 
Carolina.  The  station  at  Ninety-Six,  and 
Forts  Cornwallis  and  Griesson,  however, 
at  Augusta,  in  Georgia,  still  held  out. 

From  Fort  Granby,  Lee  was  detached 
to  join  General  Pickens,  and  lay  siege  to 
Augusta;  and  three  days  after 
the  fall  of  the  former  post,  his 
legion  was  arrayed  before  the  walls  of 
the  latter.  General  Greene  reserved  the 
enemy's  post  at  Ninety-Six  for  himself, 
against  which  he  now  marched  with  his 
main  body. 

Lee  and  Pickens  were  successful  at  Au 
gusta,  but  met  with  a  desperate  resist 
ance.  "  The  garrison,"  says  Ramsay, "  bu 
ried  themselves  in  a  great  measure  under 


May  18, 


June  5, 


ground  and  obstinately  refused  to  capitu 
late,  till  the  necessity  was  so  pressing. 
that  every  man  who  attempted  to  fire  on 
the  besiegers  was  immediately  shot  down. 
At  length,  when  further  resistance  would 
have  been  madness,  the  fort,  with  about 
three  hundred  men,  surrendered 
on  honorable  terms  of  capitula 
tion."  During  the  siege,  the  Americans 
lost  about  forty  men.  After  the  surren 
der,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Griesson,  of  the 
British  militia,  was  killed  by  an  American, 
who  forced  his  horse  into  the  house  where 
the  prisoner  was  kept,  and,  without  dis 
mounting,  shot  him  dead,  and  escaped  be 
fore  he  could  be  arrested.  A  reward  of 
a  hundred  pounds  sterling  was  offered  for 
the  discovery  of  the  perpetrator  of  the 
deed,  but  without  avail. 

In  the  meanwhile,  General  Greene  had 
encamped  within  cannon-shot  of  the  fort 
of  Ninety-Six.  The  reduction  of 

,i  •  f    -A  11  K  Way 22t 

this  formidable  station  was  an  ob 
ject  of  the  greatest  interest.  The  village 
of  Cambridge  (or,  as  it  was  called  in  that 
day,  the  post  of  Ninety-Six)  was  at  this 
time  the  pivot  of  very  extensive  opera 
tions.  To  possess  it,  therefore,  was  to  give 
the  finishing  blow  to  the  British  strength 
in  the  interior  of  the  state. 

Greene's  whole  force  consisted  of  one 
thousand  men.  The  enemy  were  but  five 
hundred  and  fifty  strong,  three  hundred 
and  fifty  of  whom  were  royal  Americans 
from  New  York  and  New  Jersey,  who  had 
enlisted  at  an  early  period  of  the  war, 
and  were  considered  among  the  best  sol 
diers  in  the  British  army.  The  remain 
ing  two  hundred  were  volunteer  tory  ri 
flemen  recruited  from  the  neighborhood. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  AMERICANS  BESIEGE  FORT  NINETY- SIX. 


805 


These  latter  were  men  desperate  from 
their  social  position,  and  skilful  marks 
men,  who  were  conspicuous  in  the  suc 
cessful  defence  of  the  place.  The  whole 
were  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Cruger,  a  brave  and  zealous  New- 
York  loyalist. 

The  fortifications  of  Ninety-Six  were 
old  works  which  had  been  erected  at  the 
commencement  of  the  Revolution,  as  a 
protection  against  the  incursions  of  the 
Indians,  whose  settlements  were  then  in 
its  near  neighborhood.  The  place  was 
remarkable  as  being  the  scene  of  the  first 
conflict  in  the  southern  war ;  for  here,  in 
1775,  began  that  sanguinary  hostility  be 
tween  the  whigs  and  tories  which  subse 
quently  desolated  the  beautiful  country 
around  it. 

During  the  invasion  of  the  state  by 
the  British,  the  works  at  Ninety-Six  had 
been  reconstructed,  according  to  all  the 
rules  of  military  art,  by  some  of  the  ablest 
of  the  engineers  in  the  army  of  Cornwal- 
lis.  On  the  approach  of  Greene,  Cruger 
had  still  further  strengthened  them  by 
judicious  additions  and  improvements. 
The  principal  work  was  the  star-redoubt, 
with  sixteen  salient  and  returning  angles, 
a  ditch,  frieze,  and  abattis.  This  star-bat 
tery  was  defended  by  three  pieces  of  ar 
tillery,  on  wheel-carriages,  which  could 
be  moved  readily  from  one  point  to  an 
other.  There  was  also  a  stockade-fort, 
strongly  built  on  high  ground,  at  conve 
nient  distances  within  which  were  erect 
ed  blockhouses  of  notched  logs,  that  com 
municated  with  the  star-redoubt ;  while 
Cruger  and  his  garrison  had,  by  the  most 
laborious  efforts,  succeeded  in  throwing 
100 


up  parapets  of  earth,  making  traverses, 
and  in  otherwise  increasing  and  strength 
ening  the  works.  On  the  north  of  the 
village  extends  a  valley,  through  which 
flows  a  rivulet  that  supplied  the  garrison 
with  water.  The  county  jail,  lying  near, 
was  fortified,  and  commanded  the  valley 
on  the  side  next  the  village ;  its  fire  also 
reached  to  the  strong  stockade-fort,  with 
its  two  blockhouses,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  valley,  which  covered  the  commu 
nication  with  the  rivulet  from  that  quar 
ter.  A  covert  way  led  from  the  town  to 
the  rivulet.  Thus  secured,  the  enemy 
were  bold  and  defiant. 

General  Greene,  when  he  beheld  the 
strength  of  the  place,  apprehended  the 
failure  of  his  enterprise ;  but  this  doubt 
did  not  discourage  him  from  his  design, 
and  he  accordingly  broke  ground  on  the 
day  after  his  arrival.  Koscius- 
ko,  the  skilful  Polish  engineer, 
had  hardly  marked  out  his  first  parallel, 
and  the  Americans  commenced  opera 
tions  before  the  formidable  star-fort,  which 
was  the  first  object  of  attack,  than  Cruger 
prepared  to  interrupt  them.  He  threw 
out  a  platform  in  one  of  the  angles  of  the 
fort,  mounted  it  with  his  three  pieces  of 
artillery,  and  manned  it  with  infantry. 
Thus  prepared,  he  began  a  brisk  fire  of 
cannon  and  musketry,  under  the  cover  of 
which  a  party  sallied  out  of  the  fort  with 
fixed  bayonets, and,  making  an  impetuous 
rush  upon  the  American  guards  and  work 
ing-parties,  drove  all  before  them,  demol 
ished  their  works,  and  returned  loaded 
with  their  intrench  ing- tools.  The  only 
loss  of  the  enemy  was  the  death  of  the 
gallant  lieutenant  who  led  them.  Gen- 


SCO 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


eral  Greene  sent  a  detachment  to  sustain 
Kosciusko  and  liis  working-party,  but  it 
arrived  too  late  upon  the  ground  to  give 
succor. 

Greene  now  found  it  necessary  to  be 
more  cautious.  He  therefore  ordered  the 
approaches  to  be  commenced  at  a  more 
respectful  distance,  and  under  the  cover 
of  a  ravine.  The  star-redoubt  was  still 
the  sole  object  of  the  besiegers,  until  the 
the  arrival  (on  the  8th  of  June)  of  Colonel 
Lee,  who,  after  his  triumph  at  Augusta, 
had  hastened  to  co-operate  with  Greene. 
After  the  completion  of  the  first  parallel, 
a  mine,  directed  against  the  star-fort,  had 
been  begun,  under  the  cover  of  a  battery 
erected  on  the  enemy's  right.  The  work 
was  prosecuted  by  the  besiegers  day  and 
night  without  intermission.  The  troops 
labored  alternately  in  the  ditches,  some 
on  guard  while  others  toiled,  and  even 
sleeping  on  their  arms,  to  repel  the  sal 
lies  of  the  besieged,  which  were  bold  and 
frequent,  and  resulted  in  long  and  spirited 
conflicts.  The  American  works  steadily 
advanced,  however,  in  spite  of  these  sal 
lies  ;  but  a  fierce  strife  followed  every 
step  in  their  progress,  and  not  a  night 
passed  without  the  loss  of  lives  on  both 
sides. 

The  second  parallel  having  been  fin 
ished,  the  garrison  was  summoned  to  sur 
render.  Cruger  defiantly  reject- 

JIII16    O»  ' 

ed  the  demand,  and  continued 
his  daring  but  ineffective  sallies.  The 
third  parallel  was  then  begun,  when  the 
resolute  enemy  became  still  more  active 
and  pertinacious  in  defence.  Cruger  had, 
moreover,  with  timely  prudence,  incorpo 
rated  with  his  army  his  negro  laborers ; 


and  he  was  further  aided  from  without 
by  a  marauding  force  under  William  Cun 
ningham,  which  materially  interfered  with 
the  supplies,  the  recruits,  and  the  general 
intelligence,  of  the  Americans. 

The  three  field  pieces  from  the  platform 
of  the  star-redoubt  were  plied  by  the  foe 
day  and  night.  Greene  built  lofty  tow 
ers  of  roughly-hewn  logs,  mounted  them 
with  riflemen,  and,  by  picking  off  the  ar 
tillerymen,  succeeded  in  silencing  theii 
guns  by  day,  although  they  still  kept  up 
a  nightly  discharge,  and  strove  by  red- 
hot  balls  to  set  fire  to  the  wooden  struc 
tures  which  were  proving  so  formidable. 
The  enemy,  however,  finding  that  these 
attempts  were  ineffective,  from  the  uncer 
tainty  of  the  aim  of  the  artillerymen  in 
the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  the  incom 
bustible  nature  of  the  green  wood  of 
which  the  towers  were  constructed,  final 
ly  ceased  to  throw  hot  shot. 

On  the  arrival  of  Colonel  Lee,  that  of 
ficer  was  immediately  ordered  to 
begin  regular  approaches  against 
the  stockade-fort  on  the  enemy's  left.  His 
ditch  was  soon  ready,  his  battery  erected 
and  mounted  with  a  six-pounder,  and  his 
advances  under  their  cover  rapidly  made. 
Cruger  still  continued  his  nightly  sallies 
with  undiminished  spirit,  striving  to  pos 
sess  himself  of  the  trenches  of  the  besieg 
ers,  and  to  "  destroy  with  the  spade  what 
ever  he  might  gain  by  the  bayonet."  He 
was,  however,  constantly  foiled  by  the  ac 
tivity  and  vigilance  of  Greene,  who  was 
ever  on  the  alert. 

The  works  of  the  besiegers  were  now 
so  near  completion,  that  a  further  defence 
of  the  place  was  limited  to  four  days.  Be- 


Jime  8. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         STUBBORN  DEFENCE.— APPROACH  OF  RAWDON. 


8G7 


sides  the  towers  before  spoken  of,  one  of 
which  was  within  thirty  yards  of  the  ene 
my's  ditch.,  the  besiegers  had  several  bat 
teries  of  cannon  within  a  hundred  and 
forty  yards.  One  of  these  so  completely 
commanded  the  star-fort,  that  the  garri 
son  were  compelled  to  shelter  themselves 
behind  bags  of  sand,  which  increased  its 
elevation  by  three  feet.  Through  these 
sand-bags,  apertures  were  left  for  the  use 
of  small-arms  by  day,  and  the  withdrawal 
of  the  sand-bags  left  embrasures  for  the 
employment  of  the  cannon  by  night. 

Thus,  for  ten  days,  the  besiegers  and 
besieged  lay  watching  each  other.  Du 
ring  this  time,  not  a  man  could  show  his 
head  on  either  side  without  incurring  the 
shot  of  the  riflemen.  Cruger's  position, 
however,  as  his  besiegers  closed  hourly 
upon  him,  was  becoming  desperate.  His 
water,  too,  was  in  danger  of  being  cut  off 
by  Lee's  approach  to  the  stockade-fort, 
that  defended  the  rivulet  from  which  the 
supply  of  the  garrison  was  obtained.  The 
men  were  already  forced  to  resort  to  the 
expedient  of  sending  out  naked  negroes 
in  the  night  to  procure  the  water,  trust 
ing  that,  by  the  duskiness  of  the  one  and 
the  darkness  of  the  other,  they  would  es 
cape  the  aim  of  the  American  marksmen. 
Lee,  conscious  of  the  importance  of  pos 
sessing  or  destroying  the  stockade-fort, 
oy  which  alone  the  enemy  were  able  to 
command  the  stream,  became  impatient 
of  the  slow  siege-operations,  and,  follow 
ing  the  example  of  Marion  in  the  capture 
of  Fort  Motte,  strove  to  set  fire  to  it  with 
flaming  arrows.  The  enemy,  however, 
unroofed  their  buildings,  and  averted  the 
catastrophe. 


Lee  now  sent  a  sergeant  with  nine  pri 
vates  of  the  legion,  loaded  with  combus 
tibles,  to  burn  the  fort,  under  the  cover 
of  a  dark  storm  which  was  threatening. 
The  brave  men  obeyed  the  order  with 
alacrity.  They  approached  for  awhile, 
hidden  by  the  nature  of  the  ground  ;  but 
when  it  became  more  open,  they  were 
forced  to  move  along  on  their  bellies,  to 
avoid  being  seen.  The  sergeant,  with 
three  of  his  men,  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  ditch,  the  rest  of  the  party  being  close 
behind  them,  and  was  in  the  act  of  ap 
plying  the  fire  to  the  stockade-fort,  when 
he  was  discovered.  In  a  moment,  hun 
dreds  of  muskets  were  aimed  and  fired. 
The  sergeant  and  five  of  his  gallant  band 
were  shot  dead.  Four  escaped  unhurt, 
and,  amid  a  shower  of  musket-balls,  re 
tired  to  the  camp. 

Notwithstanding  the  stubborn  resist 
ance  of  Colonel  Cruger  and  his  loyalist 
garrison,  there  seemed  little  prospect  of 
their  holding  out  much  longer,  when  an 
event  occurred  which  at  once  aroused 
their  energies  afresh  and  renewed  their 
hopes : — 

"  In  the  evening,"  says  Lee,  who  de 
scribes  the  incident,  of  which  he  was  an 
eye-witness,  "  a  countryman  was  seen  ri 
ding  along  our  lines  south  of  the  town, 
con  versing  familiarly  with  the  officers  and 
soldiers  on  duty.  He  was  not  regarded, 
as  from  the  beginning  of  the  siege  our 
friends  in  the  country  were  in  the  habit 
of  visiting  camp,  and  were  permitted  to 
go  wherever  their  curiosity  led  them,  one 
of  whom  this  man  was  presumed  to  be. 
At  length  he  reached  the  great  road  lead 
ing  directly  to  the  town,  in  which  quarter 


868 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


were  only  some  batteries  thrown  up  for 
the  protection  of  the  guards.  Putting 
spur  to  his  horse,  he  rushed  with  full 
speed  into  town,  receiving  the  ineffectual 
fire  of  our  sentinels  and  guards  nearest 
to  him,  and  holding  up  a  letter  in  his 
hand  as  soon  as  he  cleared  himself  of  our 
fire.  The  propitious  signal  gave  joy  to 
the  garrison,  who,  running  to  meet  their 
friend,  opened  the  gate,  Avelcoming  his 
arrival  with  loud  expressions  of  delight. 
He  was  the  bearer  of  a  despatch  from 
Rawdon  to  Cruder,  communicating  his  ar- 

o         /  O 

rival  at  Orangeburg  in  adequate  force, 
and  informing  him  that  he  was  hastening? 

o  o 

to  his  relief.  This  intelligence  infused 
new  vigor  into  the  intrepid  leader  and 
his  brave  companions." 

Simms  gives  the  following  explanation 
of  this  curious  incident :  "A  woman  was 
the  instrument  employed  by  the  British 
for  encouraging  @ruger  to  protract  the 
siege.  Residing  in  the  neighborhood,  she 
had  visited  the  camp  of  Greene,  under 
some  pretence  of  little  moment.  The 
daughter  of  one  tried  patriot  and  the  sis 
ter  of  another,  she  had  been  received  at 
the  general's  table,  and  permitted  the  free 
dom  of  the  encampment.  But  she  had 
formed  a  matrimonial  connection  with  a 
British  officer,  and  the  ties  of  love  had 
proved  stronger  than  those  of  any  other 
relationship.  In  the  opportunities  thus 
afforded  her,  she  contrived  to  apprize  the 
garrison  that  she  had  a  communication 
from  Lord  Rawdon.  A  young  loyalist  re 
ceived  it  from  her  lips,  at  a  farmhouse  in 
June  17,  tlienL%nl)0rnoo^nd,underthe 
fires  of  the  sentinels,  dashing  suc 
cessfully  and  at  full  speed  by  the  pickets, 


he  was  admitted  with  hurrahs  into  the 
garrison." 

General  Greene  had  for  several  da}^s 
been  aware  of  the  approach  of  Lord  Raw 
don,  who,  after  waiting  with  anxious  im 
patience  at  Charleston  for  expected  rein 
forcements,  was  finally  rejoiced  by  the 
arrival  of  three  regiments  from  Ireland. 
Conscious  of  the  danger  awaiting  Cruger. 
at  Ninety-Six,  his  lordship  at  the  head  of 
twenty-five  hundred  men  hastened  for 
ward  by  forced  marches  to  the  relief  of 
his  subordinate.  Greene  strove  to  delay 
his  approach,  ordering  General  Sumter 
(to  whose  aid  he  had  sent  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Washington  with  his  cavalry  and 
Pickens  with  his  militia)  to  keep  in  the 
earl's  front,  and  check  his  advance.  Ma 
rion,  too,  was  directed  to  be  on  the  alert, 
and  hasten  from  the  low  country  as  soon 
as  it  should  become  apparent  that  Raw 
don  was  marchinsr  to  Ninety-Six.  This 

O  «/ 

prospect  of  succor  had,  however,  by  the 
vigilance  of  the  Americans,  been  carefully 
kept  from  the  knowledge  of  Cruger,  who 
knew  nothing  of  it  until  the  bold  push  of 
the  countryman  into  the  fort  at  this  late 
moment.  Lord  Rawdon  had,  moreover, 
succeeded  in  outmanoeuvring  Sumter,  and 
getting  between  him  and  Greene.  His 
approach  was  hourly  expected ;  and  the 
American  commander,  therefore,  had  to 
choose  at  once  between  assailing  the  fort, 
meeting  his  lordship,  or  retiring. 

Greene  decided  upon  storming  the  for 
tress  without  delay.  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Campbell,  of  the  first  Virginia  regiment, 
with  a  detachment  from  the  Maryland 
and  Virginia  brigades,  was  to  lead  the 
assault  on  the  left,  and  Lieutenant-Colo- 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         THE  ASSAULT  AND  REPULSE  AT  NINETY-SIX. 


869 


nel  Lee  with  the  legion  infantry,  and  Cap 
tain  Kirkwood  with  the  remains  of  the 
Delaware  regiment,  on  the  right.  Lieu 
tenant  Duval,  with  a  company  of  Mary- 
landers,  and  Lieutenant  Selden,  with  an 
other  of  Virginians,  led  the  forlorn  hope 
of  Campbell ;  and  Major  Rudolph,  of  the 
legion,  that  of  Lee,  which  was  directed 
against  the  stockade-fort.  Fascines  were 
made  ready  to  fill  in  the  ditches,  and  long 
poles,  with  hooks,  to  pull  down  the  sand 
bags  with  which  the  enemy  had  increased 
the  height  of  their  parapets.  The  third 
parallel  having  been  manned,  and  the 
sharpshooters  stationed  on  the  lofty  tow 
er  in  front  of  the  star-fort,  with  orders  to 
clear  the  parapets  of  the  garrison  previ 
ous  to  the  advance  of  the  storming-party, 
the  first  signal  was  given,  when  the  as 
sailants  entered  the  trenches,  with  every 
manifestation  of  eagerness  to  begin  the 
attack. 

At  noon,  the  second  cannon  was  fired. 
Campbell  and  Lee  rushed  to  the 
assault.  "  Cruger,  always  pre 
pared,"  says  Lee,  who  was  on  the  spot, 
and  relates  his  own  experience,  "  received 
them  with  his  accustomed  firmness.  The 
parapets  were  manned  with  spike  and  bay 
onet  ;  and  the  riflemen,  fixed  at  the  sand 
bag  apertures,  maintained  a  steady  and 
destructive  fire.  Duval  and  Selden  en 
tered  the  enemy's  ditch  at  different  points, 
and  Campbell  stood  prepared  to  support 
them,  in  the  rear  of  the  party  furnished 
with  hooks  to  pull  down  the  sand-bags. 
This  party  had  also  entered  the  enemy's 
ditch,  and  began  to  apply  the  hook.  Un 
covering  the  parapet  now  would  have 
given  us  victory ;  and  such  was  the  vig- 


Juue  IS. 


orous  support  afforded  by  the  musketry 
from  the  third  parallel,  from  the  riflemen 
in  the  tower,  and  from  the  artillery  mount 
ed  in  battery,  that  sanguine  anticipations 
of  this  happy  issue  were  universally  in 
dulged.  The  moment  the  bags  in  front 
were  pulled  down,  Campbell  would  have 
mounted  the  parapet,  where  the  struggle 
could  not  have  been  long  maintained. 
Cruger  had  prepared  an  intermediate  bat 
tery  with  his  three  pieces,  which  he  oc 
casionally  applied  to  right  and  left.  At 
first,  it  was  directed  against  Lee's  left; 
but  very  soon  every  piece  was  applied 
upon  Campbell's  right,  which  was  very 
injurious  to  his  column. 

"Major  Greene,  commanding  ir  the 
star- redoubt,  sensible  of  the  danger  to 
which  he  was  exposed,  if  the  attempted 
lodgment  upon  his  front  curtain  succeed 
ed,  determined  to  try  the  bayonet  in  his 
ditch  as  well  as  on  his  parapet.  To  Cap 
tains  Campbell  and  French  was  commit 
ted  this  bold  effort.  Entering  into  the 
ditch  through  a  sally-port  in  the  rear  of 
the  '  star/  they  took  opposite  directions, 
and  soon  came  in  contact,  the  one  with 
Duval,  the  other  with  Selden.  Here  en 
sued  a  desperate  conflict.  The  Americans, 
not  only  fighting  with  the  enemy  in  front 
but  with  the  enemy  overhead,  sustained 
gallantly  the  unequal  contest,  until  Duval 
and  Selden  became  disabled  by  wounds, 
when  they  yielded,  and  were  driven  back 
with  great  loss  to  the  point  of  entry.  The 
few  surviving  escaped  with  the  hookmen 
to  our  trenches,  where  yet  remained  Colo 
nel  Campbell,  the  sand-bags  not  being  re 
moved. 

"  On  the  left,  the  issue  was  very  differ- 


870 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


ent.  Rudolph  gained  the  enemy's  ditch, 
and,  followed  by  the  column,  soon  opened 
his  way  into  the  fort,  from  which  the  en 
emy,  giving  their  last  fire,  precipitately 
retreated.  Measures  were  in  train,  on  the 
part  of  Lee,  to  follow  up  his  blow,  by  pas 
sing  the  rivulet,  entering  the  town,  and 
forcing  the  fortified  prison,  whence  the 
left  might  have  yielded  substantial  aid  to 
the  attack  upon  the  star,  by  compelling 
Cruger  to  struggle  for  the  town,  or  forcing 
him  with  all  his  troops  to  take  refuge  in 
the  star;  a  situation  not  long  to  be  held, 
crowded  as  he  must  have  been,  and  desti 
tute  of  water." 

General  Greene,  however,  at  this  mo 
ment,  sent  orders  to  Campbell  to  with 
draw,  as  his  brave  men  were  being  sacri 
ficed  without  apparent  advantage ;  and 
Lee  was  commanded  to  hold  the  stock 
ade-fort,  but  to  cease  advancing.  Nearly 
two  thirds  of  the  assailants  were  struck 
down  in  the  attack  on  the  star-battery, 
yet  the  strife  was  maintained  for  almost 
three  quarters  of  an  hour ;  and  in  their 
retreat,  though  still  under  a  galling  fire 
from  the  garrison,  the  survivors  brought 
off  the  greater  number  of  their  wounded 
comrades.  One  hundred  and  eighty  were 
the  killed  and  wounded  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans,  and  eighty-five  on  that  of  the 
enemy. 


June  18. 


The  attempt  to  carry  the  works  of  the 
foe  by  assault  was  thus  shown  to  be  fruit 
less.  Moreover,  intelligence  soon  came 
that  Lord  Rawdon,  with  his  twenty-five 
hundred  men,  having  broken  through  the 
obstructions  offered  by  the  partisan  forces 
under  General  Marion,  had  appeared  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  was  now  rapidly 
approaching,  to  give  his  promised  succor 
to  the  beleagured  loyalists.  Under  these 
circumstances,  with  a  far  inferior  force, 
and  his  troops  dispirited  by  their  repulse, 
there  was  nothing  left  to  the  American 
commander  but  immediate  retreat.  As 
soon,  as  the  night  closed  in,  ac 
cordingly,  Lee  was  ordered  to 
abandon  the  stockade-fort  which  he  had 
so  gallantly  taken,  and  Greene  withdrew 
from  Ninety-Six  with  his  whole  force. 

"  Had  a  few  days'  time  been  allowed  to 
Greene's  approaches  on  Ninety-Six,"  ob 
serves  Simms,  "  or  had  the  supplies  of  mi 
litia  promised  from  Virginia  reached  him, 
the  prize  for  which  he  struggled  must 
have  been  in  his  possession.  Now,  baf 
fled,  if  not  beaten,  he  fell  back  slowly  and 
sullenly  before  the  pursuit  of  Rawdon, 
until  the  latter,  weary  of  a  chase  which 
promised  to  be  hopeless,  and  warned  by 
circumstances  which  called  him  elsewhere, 
abandoned  equally  the  pursuit  and  the 
country." 


REVOLUTIONARY. J         EAWDON  ABANDONS  NINETY-SIX.— THE  LOYALISTS. 


871 


CHAPTER    OIL 

Mortification  a  General  Greene. — He  resolves  to  conquer  the  Country,  or  die. — His  Retreat. — Lord  Rawdon  in  Pursuit. 
— His  Lord.ship  back  again  at  Ninety-Six. — Retirement  of  Rawdon. — Desertion  of  the  Loyalist  Inhabitants. — Greene 
faces  about. — Pursuit. — Challenge  to  Battle. — Bold  Stroke  of  Colonel  Lee. — Hurry  of  Rawdon. — Arrival  at  Granby. 
— Orangeburg. — Mutinous  Soldiers. — Another  Challenge. — Greene  among  the  High  Hills  of  the  Santee. — His  Camp 
of  Repose. — Sumter's  Expedition. — Thundering  at  the  Gates  of  Charleston. — Rapid  Movements. — Fall  of  Dorchester. 
— Wade  Hampton  before  the  Walls  of  Charleston. — Fright  of  the  Inhabitants. — Stolen  Thunder. — Junction. — The 
Enemy  abandon  Monk's  Corner. — Coat.es  surprised. — Fight  at  the  Bridge. — Bold  Leap. — Success  of  Coates. — Prepara 
tion  for  Sumter. — Another  Conflict. — Discord  among  the  Americans. — Their  Retirement. — Earl  Rawdon  departs  for 
Europe. — Inaction. — Civil  Strife. — Blood  and  Slaughter. — Execution  of  Colonel  Isaac  Hayne. — Inhuman  Insult. — 
Want  of  Reinforcements  by  the  Americans. — Victory  or  Ruin. — Services  of  the  Partisan  Leaders. — General  Greene 
marches  to  meet  the  Enemy. — Ready  for  Battle. 


1781, 


IT  was  exceedingly  mortifying  to 
General  Greene  that,  after  an  ardu 
ous  siege  of  twenty-eight  days,  he  should 
be  obliged  to  leave  Ninety-Six,  defeated 
in  his  object,  at  the  very  moment  that  a 
triumph  was  about  to  crown  his  labors. 
Some  of  his  friends  were  so  disheartened 
at  the  result,  and  so  distrustful  of  the  fu 
ture  in  South  Carolina,  that  they  urged 
him  to  quit  the  state,  and  retire  with  his 
small  force  to  Virginia,  "  No,"  answered 
Greene,  resolutely ;  u  I  mU  recover  the  coun 
try,  or  die  in  the  attempt !"  He  thus  began 
his  retreat,  vanquished  for  the  moment, 
but  still  hopeful.  On  the  second 
day  after  his  repulse  at  Ninety- 
Six,  he  crossed  the  Saluda.  On  the  24th 
he  arrived  on  the  banks  of  the  Guorree, 
and  did  not  come  to  a  halt  until  he  had 
crossed  that  river,  as  also  the  Tiger  and 
the  Broad. 

Lord  Rawdon  pursued  the  retreating 
Americans  until  he  reached  the  banks  of 
the  Guorree,  when,  finding  it  impossible 
to  come  up  with  Greene,  he  returned  to 
Ninety-Six.  His  march  had  served  only 


June  20, 


to  extricate  Cruger  from  his  immediate 
difficulty.  He  now  determined  to  aban 
don  that  post,  as  it  was  too  remote  to  be 
readily  supported ;  and  the  proofs  were 
convincing,  all  around  him,  that  the  day 
had  gone  by  when  a  foreign  foe  could 
maintain  itself  among  the  recovering  in 
habitants.  The  famous  post  of  Ninety- 
Six,  in  defence  of  which  so  much  blood 
had  been  already  shed,  was  accordingly 
evacuated,  and  left  in  possession  of  the 
patriots,  from  whom  it  had  been  so  lately 
rescued.  The  neighboring  loyalists,  who 
had  so  bravely  fought  for  the  royal  cause, 
claimed  all  the  s}^mpathy  of  the  English 
earl,  and  he  so  far  provided  for  their  safe 
ty  as  to  leave  Colonel  Cruger,  with  one 
half  his  force,  to  escort  them,  when  ready, 
to  Charleston ;  while  he  himself  pushed 
on,  with  eight  hundred  infantry  and  sixty 
horsemen,  toward  the  Congaree  river. 

Piteous,  indeed,  was  the  misery  of  the 
wretched  loyalists,  whom  this  abandon 
ment  of  Ninety-Six  virtually  surrendered 
to  the  rage  of  the  long-persecuted  patri 
ots.  A  fearful  day  of  retribution  was  at 


872 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


hand,  which  they  did  not  venture  to  await. 
At  a  season  when  their  farms  were  most 
lovely  in  the  promise  of  a  plenteous  har 
vest,  they  were  compelled  to  surrender 
them  and  fly. 

Vainly  did  their  chiefs  expostulate  with 
the  British  chief  against  his  desertion  of 
those  who,  to  serve  the  cause  of  their 
sovereign,  had  incurred  the  enduring  hos 
tility  of  their  countrymen.  But  the  ne 
cessity  was  not  less  pressing  upon  Lord 
Eawdon  than  upon  his  wretched  allies ; 
and,  with  a  last  look  upon  their  homes, 
a  mournful  cavalcade  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  prepared  to  abandon  the  fields 
of  equal  beauty  and  plenty  which  their 
treachery  to  their  country  had  richly  for 
feited,  but  for  which  they  were  still  wil 
ling  to  perish  rather  than  depart. 

Sullenly  the  strong  men  led  the  way, 
while,  with  eyes  that  streamed  and  still 
looked  backward,  the  women  and  chil 
dren  followed  reluctantly,  and  with  souls 
full  of  wretchedness  and  grief.  How  bit 
terly  in  their  ears,  at  such  a  moment,  must 
have  sounded  the  notes  of  that  drum  and 
trumpet  which  had  beguiled  them  from 
the  banners  of  their  country  to  those  of 
its  invader  !  AVhat  a  pang  to  the  bosoms 
of  the  fathers  !  what  a  lesson  to  the  sons, 
guiltless  of  the  offence,  yet  condemned  to 
share  in  its  penalties  I* 

On  discovering  the  retrograde  move 
ment  of  Lord  Rawdon,  and  the  division 
of  his  force,  General  Greene  immediately 
faced  about,  to  pursue  in  his  turn,  and 
provoke  his  lordship  to  battle.  The  ac 
tive  Lee  was  sent  in  advance,  with  his 
cavalry,  to  hover  about  the  British,  and 

*  Simms. 


to  harass  them  in  their  retreat,  should 
they  refuse  to  stand  their  ground  and  to 
accept  the  challenge  which  Greene  was 
proffering  them.  The  earl,  however,  had 
n«o  disposition  to  lose  a  moment  by  the 
way,  as  his  object  was  to  hasten  to  Gran- 
by,  where  he  had  summoned  Colonel  Stew 
art  to  meet  him  with  a  small  detachment 
of  troops  from  Charleston. 

In  the  advance  which  Greene  contin 
ued  to  make  upon  the  retreating  foe,  an 
opportunity  offered  to  Lee  of  striking  a 
blow  at  his  cavalry.  Rawdon  had  with 
him  but  a  small  number  of  dragoons,  his 
chief  strength  in  this  description  of  troops 
being  engaged  in  distant  operations. 

Major  Eagles  ton,  with  a  strong  body 
of  the  American  cavalry,  throwing  him 
self  in  advance  of  the  enemy,  placed  an 
ambush  in  reserve,  and  presented  himself 
with  a  small  number  in  view  of  the  Brit 
ish.  This  drew  upon  him,  as  was  antici 
pated,  an  attack  of  the  whole  hostile  cav 
alry.  His  flight  enticed  them  to  the  thick 
et  where  the  rest  of  the  troop  was  con 
cealed,  and  their  joint  charges  completely 
overwhelmed  the  foe.  Many  were  slain, 
and  forty-five  men  and  horses,  with  sev 
eral  commissioned  officers,  within  a  mile 
of  the  whole  British  army,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Americans. 

This  bold  stroke  of  Lee's  legion,  togeth 
er  with  the  accumulating  numbers  and  au 
dacity  of  the  Americans,  greatly  alarmed 
Earl  Rawdon,  and  gave  increased  speed 
to  his  flight.  Indeed,  so  urgently  did  he 
press  on  his  men  in  their  march,  that  no 
less  than  fifty  fell  dead  by  the  roadside, 
from  fatigue,  privation,  and  the  excessive 
heat  of  the  weather !  His  lordship  thus 


KfJVOLUTIONARY.] 


EXPEDITION  TO  THE  LOW  COUNTRY. 


873 


succeeded,  by  his  unwonted,,  efforts,  in 
reaching  Granby  before  General  Greene 
could  come  up.  The  expected  reinforce 
ments  from  Charleston,  however,  not  hav 
ing  arrived,  the  earl  sought  safety  by  re 
tiring  to  Orangeburg,  where  he  posted 
himself  on  strong  ground,  and  waited  for 
the  junction  of  Colonels  Stewart  and  Cru- 
ger.  Here  he  could  give  a  breathing-time 
to  his  hard-pressed  troops,  whose  powers 
of  endurance  had  been  at  last  so  exhaust 
ed,  that  they  were  ready  to  lay  down  their 
arms  in  mutinous  disobedience  if  ordered 
to  continue  their  march. 

Greene,  with  the  aid  of  Marion,  strove 
in  vain  to  prevent  the  junction  of  Stew 
art  with  Rawdon.  After  this  disappoint 
ment,  he  moved  forward  and  encamped 
within  five  miles  of  Orangeburg.  Here 
he  endeavored  to  provoke  his  lordship  to 
battle.  The  earl,  howrever,  refused  to  be 
drawn  from  his  strong  ground,  and  the 
American  general  was  too  feeble  to  justi 
fy  an  attack  upon  him  in  his  works.  Sev 
eral  efforts  which  he  made  with  his  cav 
alry,  to  arrest  the  approach  of  supplies 
to  the  British,  having  proved  abortive, 
and  tidings  having  reached  him  of  the 
advance  of  Cruger  with  fifteen  hundred 
men  to  the  relief  of  Rawdon,  compelled 
General  Greene  to  retire  from  a  position 
which  he  could  not  have  retained  after 
this  accession  of  strength  to  his  antago 
nist.  Finding  it  thus  imprudent  to  strike 
a  blow,  the  American  command 
er  withdrew  to  a  camp  of  repose 
among  the  "High  hills"  of  the  San  tee, 
while  he  meditated  upon  other  modes  for 
the  expulsion  of  the  enemy  from  their 
strong  position  on  the  Edisto. 
110 


July  5. 


In  the  meanwhile,  General  Pickens  and 
his  militia  had  been  equally  unsuccessful 
in  preventing  the  junction  of  Cruger  with 
Earl  Rawdon,  which  so  strength 
ened  his  lordship,  that  he  would 
now  have  gladly  gone  out  with  his  pow 
erful  force  against  the  Americans ;  but, 
by  his  timely  and  prudent  retreat  on  the 
previous  day,  Greene  had  placed  himself 
out  of  reach  beyond  the  Congaree. 

While  the  American  general  was  thus 
in  his  "  camp  of  repose,"  he  was  not  the 
less  active  in  preparing  means  for  driving 
out  the  enemy  from  South  Carolina.  The 
evacuation  of  Camden  having  been  effect 
ed  by  striking  at  the  posts  below  it,  it 
was  now  proposed  to  try  the  same  plan 
to  force  the  British  from  Orangeburg.  An 
expedition  to  the  low  country  was  imme 
diately  set  on  foot  for  this  purpose,  con 
sisting  of  about  a  thousand  men,  most  of 
whom  belonged  to  the  Carolinas, although 

o  /  o 

Lee  with  his  legion,  and  a  small  artillery- 
force  with  one  fieldpiece,  were  added. 
This  was  the  famous  "  raid  of  the  clou;- 

o 

days."  It  took  place  in  midsummer,  when 
the  continentals  dared  not  inarch.  The 
chief  command  of  the  expedition  was  giv 
en  to  Sumter,  with  whom  were  united  Ma 
rion,  Lee,  the  two  Hamptons, Taylor,  ITor- 
ry,  Maham,  and  Lacy,  all  gallant  officers 
of  the  South.  General  Greene  well  knew 
the  men  whom  he  had  intrusted  with  this 
enterprise,  and  spoke  to  them  in  sympa 
thy  with  their  adventurous  and  energetic 
spirit.  "  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost,"  wrote 
Greene,  in  his  orders  to  Sumter.  "  Push 
your  operations  night  and  day.  Keep  a 
party  to  watch  the  enemy's  motions  at 
Orangeburg,  as  they  move  down.  Should 


874 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


they  move  in  any  other  direction,  I  will 
advise  yon.  Keep  Colonel  Lee  and  Gen 
eral  Marion  advised  of  all  matters  from 
above,  and  tell  Colonel  Lee  to  thunder 
even  at  the  gates  of  Charleston !" 

These  gallant  men  eagerly  strove  to 
obey  the  spirited  instructions  of  their 
commander.  Sumter  at  once  moved  rap 
idly  down  with  his  main  body  along  the 
south  side  of  the  Congaree.  Lee,  with 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Wade  Hampton,  was 
despatched  to  attack  the  British  post  at 
Dorchester.  Colonel  Henry  Hampton  was 
stationed  at  Orangeburg,  to  keep  a  watch 
on  the  main  body  of  the  enemy  ;  and  all 
were  to  reunite  at  Monk's  Corner,  and  at 
tack  its  strong  works,  which  were  held  by 
Colonel  Coates. 

On  his  march,  Lee  took  all  the  wagons 
and  wagon-horses  belonging  to  a  convoy 
of  provisions.  He  then  advanced  to  Dor 
chester,  which  fell  at  once.  The  garrison, 
which  had  been  much  reduced,  and  was 
in  a  state  of  mutiny,  no  sooner  discovered 
the  approach  of  the  small  party  which  had 
been  sent  by  Lee,  under  Wade  Hampton, 
to  the  bridge  at  Goose  creek,  in  order  to 
cut  off  the  communication  with  Monk's 
Corner,  than  it  precipitately  abandoned 
the  post. 

While  Lee  was  collecting  the  spoils  at 
Dorchester,  consisting  of  about  two  hun 
dred  horses  and  a  large  supply  of  ammu 
nition,  Colonel  Wade  Hampton  dashed 
down  the  road  to  Charleston,  captured  a 
party  of  fifty  dragoons  by  the  way,  and 
suddenly  appeared  so  close  to  the  walls 
of  the  town,  that  the  inhabitants,  in  their 
terror, believed  the  whole  American  army 
had  come.  The  bells  of  the  churches  were 


rung, the  alarm-guns  fired,  and  every  man 
was  up  in  arms.  Hampton  had  thus  sto 
len  a  march  upon  Lee,  and  robbed  him 
of  the  "  thunder"  with  which  Greene  had 
bidden  him  knock  at  the  gates  of  Charles 
ton.  Lee  arrived  next  day,  but  too  late 
to  win  any  laurels.* 

In  this  foray,  Hampton  also  burnt  four 
vessels,  laden  with  valuable  stores  for  the 
British  army.  Lee  and  Hampton  now 
hastened  to  join  Sumter,  and  unite  with 
him  in  the  contemplated  attack  upon  Colo 
nel  Coates  at  Monk's  Corner. 

Meanwhile  a  detachment  of  Marion's 
men,  under  Colonel  Mali  am,  passing  the 
head  of  Cooper  river  and  Wad  boo  creek, 
penetrated  below  to  the  eastward  of  Big 
gin  church,  to  obstruct  the  retreat  of  the 
garrison  at  the  church,  by  destroying  the 
Wadboo  bridge. 

The  church  near  Biggin  bridge  was  a 
strong  brick  building,  about  a  mile  from 
Monk's  Corner,  where  the  British  had  a 
redoubt.  The  church  covered  the  bridge, 
and  secured  the  retreat  at  that  point  by 
way  of  the  corner.  It  was  strongly  gar 
risoned  by  a  British  force  of  nearly  seven 
hundred  men  ;  and  the  detachment  under 
Maham  did  not  dare  to  advance  with 
any  confidence  wThile  unsupported  by  the 
main  force  of  the  Americans. 

Lee  and  Hampton  having  effected  a 
junction  with  General  Sumter,  the  latter 
advanced  to  support  Maham  in 
his  attempt  upon  the  bridge.  Ke- 
inforcing  his  troop  with  a  detachment  un 
der  Colonel  Peter  Horry,  the  command 
devolved  upon  that  oflicer,  who  at  once 
proceeded  to  the  destruction  of  the  bridge. 

*  Irving. 


July  16. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


FIGHT  AT  QUINBY  BRIDGE. 


875 


The  cavalry  of  the  enemy  now  advanced 
boldly  to  defeat  his  purpose,  but  were  re 
ceived  by  the  mounted  American  riflemen, 
who  broke  entirely  through  them,  killing 
some,  and  taking  a  number  of  prisoners. 

This  defeat  drew  out  the  British  in  such 
force,  that  the  party  engaged  in  destroy 
ing  the  bridge  was  compelled  to  fall  back 
upon  the  main  body.  Sumter,  believing 
that  the  enemy  had  marched  out  to  give 
him  battle,  retired  behind  a  defile  at  a 
little  distance  in  the  rear,  and  prepared 
to  receive  the  attack  in  the  most  advan 
tageous  position. 

But  the  British  colonel  had  no  such 
purpose.  In  proportion  as  the  confidence 
of  the  Americans  rose  in  the  conflict,  that 
of  the  invaders  invariably  fell.  The  de 
sign  of  Coates  was  simply  to  wear  out  the 
day.  With  the  approach  of  evening,  he 
accumulated  the  stores  of  the  garrison 
within  the  church,  and  then  set  them  on 
fire,  to  prevent  their  falling  into  the  hands 
of  the  Americans.  During  the  night,  the 
British  decamped,  taking  the  road  to  the 
eastward  by  Wadboo  and  Quinby. 

As  soon  as  the  flames  were  ob 
served  bursting  through  the  roof 
of  the  sacred  edifice,  and  Sumter  had  thus 
discovered  the  departure  of  the  enemy, 
he  led  out  his  troops  in  pursuit ;  but,  un 
fortunately,  Lieutenant  Singleton,  with  a 
piece  of  artillery,  was  ordered  to  remain 
upon  the  ground,  that  he  might  not  de 
lay  the  movements  of  the  infantry.  Lee 
and  his  legion,  with  Colonel  Hampton, 
were  in  advance,  until,  having  passed  the 
Wadboo, they  discovered  that  the  cavalry 
of  the  enemy  had  separated  from  the  in 
fantry,  and  had  taken  the  route  to  the 


right.  Hampton  accordingly  diverged  in 
this  direction,  urging  his  panting  horses  to 
the  utmost,  in  the  hope  of  overtaking  the 
dragoons  before  they  could  effect  their 
passage  of  the  river.  In  this  he  was  un 
successful,  and  only  returned  to  witness 
the  equally  fortunate  escape  of  the  ene 
my's  infantry,  the  only  remaining  object 
of  pursuit. 

Marion's  cavalry  had  in  the  meantime 
joined  that  of  Lee,  and,  after  a  quick  run 
of  eighteen  miles,  they  came  up,  about  a 
mile  to  the  north  of  Quinby  creek,  with 
the  rear-guard  of  the  retreating  army, 
consisting  of  one  hundred  men.  These, 
being  composed  of  raw  recruits,  were  so 
frightened  at  the  approach  of  the  cavalry 
in  furious  onset,  as  to  be  almost  incapable 
of  the  power  of  resistance.  They  threw 
down  their  arms  without  firing  a  gun,  and 
begged  for  quarter,  which  was  granted 
them. 

Colonel  Coates,  having  crossed  Quinby 
bridge  with  his  main  body,  had  already 
commenced  its  demolition,  and  was  only 
awaiting  the  passage  of  the  rear-guard  and 
his  baggage  to  complete  its  destruction. 
The  planks  which  covered  the  bridge  were 
loosened  from  their  sleepers,  and  a  how 
itzer,  at  its  opposite  extremity,  was  so 
placed  as  to  protect  the  party  engaged 
in  throwing  them  off  At  this  moment, 
Captain  Armstrong,  with  the  advance  sec 
tion  of  Lee's  horse  came  dashing  up.  As 
the  rear-guard  had  been  overcome  with 
out  any  fight,  no  alarm -gun  had  been 
fired,  and  no  express  had  been  sent  to  ap 
prize  the  British  commander  of  his  dan 
ger.  Thus  taken  by  surprise,  he  was  al 
most  wholly  unprepared  for  defence.  The 


876 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPATJT  TT. 


panic  oy  which  he  had  lost  one  important 
part  of  his  force,  had  nearly  involved  the 
destruction  of  the  remainder. 

He  happened,  however,  fortunately  for 
himself,  to  be  at  the  bridge  when  the  cav 
alry  of  the  Americans  came  rushing  into 
view.  His  main  body  was  at  this  moment 
partly  on  the  causeway,  on  the  south  side 
of  the  bridge,  and  partly  pressed  into  a 
lane  beyond  it.  Thus  crowded,  they  were 
wholly  disabled  for  immediate  action;  but 
Coates  nevertheless  coolly  prepared  him 
self,  as  well  as  he  might,  to  remedy  the 
difficulties  of  his  situation,  and  make  his 
resistance  as  effectual  as  possible.  Orders 
were  despatched  to  his  troops  on  the  ad 
vance  to  halt,  form,  and  march  up.  while 
the  artillerists  were  called  to  the  howit 
zer,  and  the  fatigue-party  to  the  renewal 
of  their  labors  for  the  destruction  of  the 
bridge. 

If  the  situation  of  the  British  was  thus 
perilous,  that  of  the  pursuing  Americans 
for  a  time  became  scarcely  less  so.  The 
planks  sliding  into  the  water,  and  the 
open  jaws  of  the  howitzer,  ready  to  send 
destruction  into  their  crowded  ranks,  left 
them  little  time  for  deliberation.  Pres 
sing  upon  each  other,  a  dense  mass  upon 
a  narrow  causeway,  they  felt  that  the 
withdrawal  of  the  enemy's  fatigue-party 
from  the  bridge  would  be  the  signal  for 
applying  the  lighted  port-fire  to  the  how 
itzer.  A  moment  longer,  and  the  iron 
hail  would  have  mowed  down  their  col 
umns  ! 

Armstrong  saw  the  danger,  and  availed 
himself  of  the  single  moment  that  was 
left  him.  Dashing  across  the  bridge,  he 

O         ' 

drove  the  artillerists  from  their  gun.     In 


the  rush  of  their  horses,  Armstrong  and 
his  troopers  had  displaced  some  of  the 
loose  planks  of  the  bridge.  This  left  a 
gap,  over  which  Lieutenant  Carrington 
and  the  second  section  of  Lee's  dragoons 
were  obliged  to  leap,  as  they  spurred  on 
to  the  succor  of  their  comrades.  Colonel 
Lee  himself  now  came  up  with  his  third 
section  ;  but,  as  the  gap  had  been  much 
enlarged,  the  horses  faltered,  and  refused 
to  take  it.  Maham,  however,  at  the  head 
of  Marion's  men,  feeling  the  halt,  charged 
by  the  legionary  cavalry ;  but  the  death 
of  his  steed  arrested  his  progress.  Cap 
tain  M'Cauley,  who  led  his  front  section, 
pressed  on,  passed  over  the  fearful  chasm, 
and  joined  in  the  fierce  hand-to-hand  melee 
that  was  going  on  upon  the  causeway  be 
yond.  The  stream  was  too  deep  and  the 
banks  too  muddy  to  attempt  to  ford,  and 
Lee  was  obliged  to  retire,  while  Carring 
ton,  Armstrong,  and  M'Cauley,  were  thus 
bravely  struggling  with  the  enemy  within 
his  sight  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  narrow  causeway  was  now  crowd 
ed,  and  a  confused  and  desperate  encoun 
ter  ensued.  Some  of  the  working-party, 
snatching  up  their  guns,  delivered  a  sin 
gle  fire,  and  then  fled.  Two  of  Lee's  dra 
goons  fell  dead  at  the  mouth  of  the  how 
itzer,  and  several  were  badly  wounded. 
Still,  the  others  remained  unhurt.  Colo 
nel  Coates,  with  his  officers,  covered  by  a 
wagon,  opposed  them  with  their  swords; 
while  the  British  infantry,  having  formed, 
hastened  forward  to  find  an  opening  in 
which  they  might  display. 

In  the  meanwhile,  some  of  Lee's  men 
were  engaged  with  Maham  and  Doctor  Ir 
ving,  his  surgeon,  in  replacing  the  planks 


REVOLUTIONARY. 


CONFLICT  AT  SHUBRICK'S  PLANTATION. 


877 


upon  the  bridge,  so  as  to  enable  the  rest 
of  the  force  to  cross  to  the  relief  of  the 
few  brave  men  who  had  already  effected 
their  passage. 

At  this  moment,  Armstrong,  Carring- 
ton,  and  M'Cauley,found  themselves  alone. 
Their  men  had  failed  to  cross  the  bridge 

o 

while  the  passage  was  available,  and,  of 
the  few  by  whom  they  had  been  followed, 
but  a  single  soldier  was  left.  Coates  and 
his  officers  occupied  the  causeway,  pro 
tected  by  a  wagon  in  front,  and,  until  the 
planks  which  he  had  succeeded  in  casting 
from  the  sleepers  could  be  restored,  they 
could  hope  for  no  assistance  from  their 
countrymen.  Had  they  been  promptly 
followed,  the  enemy  might  have  been  cut 
in  pieces.  Now,  they  beheld  nothing  but 
the  seeming  certainty  of  their  own  fate. 
The  resolution  of  these  brave  men,  in 
this  predicament,  was  equally  prompt  and 
decided  with  that  by  which  they  had  be 
come  involved  in  it,  and  they  saw  that 
their  only  hope  of  escape  was  in  instant 
flight.  They  knew  that  they  should  be 
safe  from  the  lire  of  the  enemy  in  front 
as  long  as  Coates  and  his  officers  were  in 
the  rear.  Accordingly,  putting  spurs  to 
their  horses,  they  dashed  through  the  con 
fused  thron<>;  still  flyim*;  alonijr  the  cause- 

O  J          O  O 

way,  rapidly  passed  over  it,  gained  the 
shelter  of  the  woods,  and,  wheeling  to  the 
left,  made  their  way  along  the  bank  of 
the  stream,  until  they  reached  a  ford,  by 
which  they  succeeded  in  returning  safely 
to  the  opposite  side. 

Colonel  Coates  now  completed  the  de 
struction  of  the  bridge,  and  pressed  for 
ward  with  his  whole  force  to  the  neigh 
boring  plantation  of  Shubrick.  Here,  in 


the  dwellinghouse,  outhouses,  negro-huts, 

and  behind  the  fences,  he  stationed  his 

I  men,  and  awaited  the  detachment  under 

;  Surnter.     The  Americans,  being  obliged 

to  make  a  long  circuit  before  reaching;  a 

<J  o 

!  ford,  did  not  come  up  until  three  o'clock 

I  in  the  afternoon.     Sumter  found 
,-,  ,  ,         ..      July  17. 

the  enemy  drawn  up  and  ready 

to  receive  him.  As  the  American  force 
consisted  chiefly  of  riflemen  and  cavalry, 
and  very  few  had  bayonets,  it  would  have 
been  madness  to  advance  directly  to  the 
attack.  The  precedent  of  King's  mount 
ain  furnished  the  partisan  with  his  order 
of  battle.  Accordingly,  on  reaching  the 
ground,  he  formed  his  men  into  three  di 
visions,  his  own  brigade  composing  the 
one,  and  Marion's  (at  that  time  much  re 
duced)  the  other  two.  The  former,  led 
by  Colonels  Middleton,  Polk,  Taylor,  and 
Lacy,  was  ordered  to  advance  under  cover 
of  a  range  of  negro-huts,  and  take  posses 
sion  of  them ;  and  the  latter  to  the  right, 
and  within  short  gunshot  of  the  building 
which  the  British  occupied  in  force,  and 
there  was  no  shelter  against  their  fire 
except  the  open  rail-fences.  The  cavalry 
of  Lee  was  held  back  as  a  reserve,  and  to 
cover  the  retreat  should  it  be  necessary. 
The  several  parties  moved  to  the  attack 
with  alacrity.  Sumter's  men  soon  gained 
their  object,  took  possession  of  the  negro- 
huts,  and  under  their  cover,  were  enabled 
to  keep  up  a  secure  and  effective  fire  with 
their  rifles.  Colonel  Taylor,  with  a  small 
command  of  forty-five  men,  pressed  for 
ward  to  the  fences  on  the  enemy's  left, 
whence  he  poured  in  a  volley.  This  drew 
upon  him  the  British  bayonet,  which  com 
pelled  him  to  retire, 


878 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[FATCT  n. 


Marion's  brigade  had  much  harder  and 
more  perilous  work  before  it.  As  the 
men  advanced  to  the  rescue  of  Taylor's 
command,  under  none  but  the  slight  cov 
er  of  the  rail-fences,  they  were  greatly 
exposed,  but  kept  pushing  on  spiritedly, 
until  the  enemy  were  driven  into  the  va 
rious  buildings.  From  within  these,  and 
from  a  picketed  garden,  the  British  main 
tained  the  conflict  till  the  sun  was  down. 
The  Americans,  having  no  artillery  with 
them,  and  finding  their  ammunition  al 
most  entirely  exhausted,  wrere  obliged  to 
retire,  after  a  contest  of  three  hours,  in 
which  they  lost  forty  men  in  killed  and 
wounded.  All  those  killed  in  the  action 
were  of  Marion's  men.  The  British  loss 
was  seventy  killed.  Their  force  nearly 
doubled  that  of  the  Americans,  and  was 
composed  chiefly  of  Irish  troops,  but  for 
whose  inexperience  in  the  use  of  firearms 
the  loss  of  Marion's  men  must  have  been 
far  more  severe  than  it  was. 

Sumter  drew  ofFhis  force  in  excellent 
order,  and,  having  repaired  the  bridge  at 
Quinby,  sent  for  his  artillery  and  a  supply 
of  ammunition,  with  the  view  of  return 
ing  to  the  attack.  In  the  meantime,  the 
men  of  Marion's  brigade,fmding  that  they 
had  been  the  chief  losers  in  the  conflict, 
began  to  complain  loudly  that  the  brunt 
of  the  battle  had  been  imposed  upon  them, 
while  Sumter  had  favored  his  own  men 
by  placing  them  under  shelter.  This  gave 
rise  to  such  discontent,  that  the  separate 
divisions  refused  to  act  any  longer  togeth 
er,  and  Sumter  thus  found  his  command 
entirely  disorganized.  He  would,  never 
theless,  have  again  sought  the  enemy  at 
Shubrick's  plantation,  but  he  was  not  only 


still  short  of  ammunition,  but  also  feared 
the  approach  of  Lord  Eawdon,  who  was 
reported  to  be  advancing  from  Orange- 
burg.  He  therefore  made  his  way,  with 
all  speed,  to  the  camp  of  General  Greene, 
on  the  "  High  hills"  of  the  Santee,  where 
Colonel  Lee  had  gone  in  advance  of  him. 

The  British  lost,  in  the  several  engage 
ments  of  the  expedition,  apart  from  the 
slain  and  wounded  (the  numbers  of  whom 
could  never  be  accurately  known),  nearly 
two  hundred  prisoners,  including  nine 
commissioned  officers,  a  large  quantity  of 
valuable  stores,  wagons,  and  horses,  and 
—  a  prize  no  less  rare  than  valuable  in  the 
eyes  of  the  starving  Americans — seven 
hundred  and  twenty  guineas,  taken  in  the 
paymaster's  chest,  with  the  baggage,  at 
Quinby  bridge. 

The  expedition  of  Sumter,  though  not 
as  successful  as  it  might  have  been  —  for 
Coates's  entire  command  might  have  been 
captured  —  was  of  the  highest  service,  as 
it  inspired  the  country  with  a  wholesome 
confidence  in  its  native  valor.  The  troops 
actually  engaged  in  the  attack  on  Colo 
nel  Coates  were  almost  exclusively  South- 
Carolina  militia,  and  they  displayed,  with 
the  vivacious  audacity  of  the  partisan,  the 
firm,  collected  resolution  of  the  drilled  vet 
eran/11 

While  General  Greene  lay  at  the  hills, 
a  large  portion  of  his  men  were  on  the 
sick-list,  and  repose  was  therefore  abso 
lutely  necessary  to  their  recovery.  But 
this  repose  did  not  imply  idleness.  To 
discipline  his  troops,  no  less  than  to  re 
store  the  sick,  was  a  leading  object  of  the 
commander.  His  mind  was  occupied  with 

*  Simms. 


REVOLUTIONARY."] 


DEPARTURE  OF  LORD  RAWDON. 


879 


the  necessity  of  grappling,  on  better  terms 
of  equality,  with  the  two  able  British  gen 
erals  with  whom  he  had  already  tried  his 
strength.  His  earnest  desire  was  to  drive 
Lord  Rawdon  to  Charleston,  and  confine 
him  within  the  limits  of  that  city.  This 
would  enable  him  to  turn  his  arms  against 
Cornwallis,  or  at  least  contribute  to  the 
detention  of  that  formidable  commander 
in  Virginia,  But  the  business  pressing 
on  the  hands  of  Greene  proved  too  vari 
ous,  and  his  resources  too  few,  for  the  ac 
complishment  of  his  designs;  and,  fortu 
nately  for  the  cause  of  American  liberty, 
Cornwallis  found  other  foes,  too  numer 
ous  for  his  safety  or  escape,  in  the  state 
which  he  had  invaded. 

In  the  meantime,  Marion,  with  his  bri 
gade,  returning  to  his  old  field  of  opera 
tions,  traversed  the  borders  of  the  San  tee 
with  a  success  and  an  activity  that  did 
not  suffer  diminution  because  of  the  in 
tense  heats  of  August,  He  was  still  the 
same  cautious  but  enterprising,  bold,  yet 
vigilant  captain  —  always  in  motion,  and 
always  successful  —  that  he  had  shown 
himself  from  the  first.  His  contempora 
ry,  Sumter,  at  the  same  time,  with  equal 
activity,  returned  to  the  Ninety-Six  dis 
trict,  where  the  sanguinary  war  of  whig 
and  tory  had  been  renewed  among  the 
inhabitants  with  great  ferocity. 

Sumter's  incursion  into  the  low  coun 
try  induced  Lord  Rawdon  to  give  up  his 
command  in  the  field,  and  proceed  rap 
idly  to  Charleston,  where  he  only  stayed 
long  enough  to  sully  his  military  honors 
by  many  shameful  and  sanguinary  acts, 
and  then,  taking  his  final  departure  from 
South  Carolina,  sailed  for  Europe. 


Lieutenant-Colonel  Stewart  succeeded 
his  lordship  in  the  command  at  Orange- 
burg,  but  toward  the  close  of  July  shifted 
his  post  to  the  south  side  of  the  Congaree, 
near  its  junction  with  the  Wateree.  Thus 
the  two  armies  were  only  fifteen  miles 
apart,  and  within  sight  of  each  other's 
watch-fires  :  but  two  rivers  and  innumer 
able  swamps  intervened,  and  the  exces 
sive  heat  during  the  height  of  the  sum- 

o  <~j 

mer  served  to  prevent  immediate  hostil 
ities. 

Though  the  regular  soldier  was  repo 
sing  for  awhile  on  his  arms,  blood  was  still 
flowing  freely.  "  The  whole  country," 
wrote  General  Greene,  "  is  one  continued 
scene  of  blood  and  slaughter."  The  civil 
strife  among  the  patriots  and  the  royal 
ists  raged  with  unwonted  fury.  Houses 
were  burnt,  property  destroyed,  and  even 
the  women  and  children  Avere  not  spared, 
while  the  strong  men  were  engaged  in 
their  fierce  partisan  conflicts.  "  No  lan 
guage,"  says  Simms,  "  can  do  justice  to, 
and  visit  with  proper  execration,  the  do 
ings  of  that  dismal  civil  war,  which  deso 
lated  the  fair  fields  of  Carolina,  and  del 
uged  her  dwellings  with  the  tears  and 
blood  of  her  children In  the  single  dis 
trict  of  Ninety-Six  there  were  no  less  than 
fourteen  hundred  ividows  and  orphans  made 
by  this  savage  ivarfare  /" 

The  animosity  which  prevailed  was  ex 
cited  to  a  still  greater  degree  by  the  cruel 
execution  of  Colonel  Isaac  Hayne,an  emi 
nent  and  beloved  citizen  of  South  Caro 
lina,  a  planter  of  good  family  and  educa 
tion,  and  highly  esteemed  for  his  amiable 
manners  and  unblemished  character.  At 
the  siege  of  Charleston,  he  commanded  a 


880 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


troop  of  horse,  and  served  meanwhile  as 
a  senator  in  the  state  legislature.  His 
corps  of  cavalry,  which  operated  in  the 
rear  of  the  British  army,  and  not  within 
the  city,  did  not  share  in  the  general  cap 
tivity  of  the  citizens  in  the  fall  of  Charles 
ton,  but  was  supposed  to  be  included  in 
its  terms  of  capitulation.  His  men  being 
disbanded,  Hayne  returned  with  his  fam 
ily  to  the  privacy  of  his  plantation.  The 
British  traversed  the  state,  and  declared 
it  to  be  conquered.  In  the  meantime,  a 
military  government  was  established  over 
it,  and  successive  commandants  were  ap 
pointed  for  the  administration  of  its  af 
fairs,  who,  under  Governor  Bull,  exercised 
dictatorial  powers.  Among  the  most  con 
spicuous  of  these  was  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Balfour,  the  commandant  of  Charleston, 
a  vain  man,  proud  of  his  authority,  and 
solicitous  of  its  exercise  —  a  sycophant  to 
the  great,  and  a  tyrant  to  the  humble. 

Under  the  despotic  system  of  govern 
ment  thus  inaugurated,  there  was  only 
one  mode  left  for  safety  to  those  unhap 
py  Carolinians  who,  still  devoted  to  their 
country's  liberties,  were  yet  liable  to  be 
torn  and  tortured  through  the  bosom  of 
their  exposed  and  suffering  families.  This 
was  to  accept  of  the  protection  of  British 
power  against  the  aggravated  excesses  of 
their  own  infatuated  countrymen.  This 
protection  was  granted  only  to  those  who 
claimed  it  as  British  subjects. 

To  this  wretched  necessity  was  Colonel 
Hayne  soon  reduced.  A  mean  artifice 
of  a  British  officer  seduced  him  from  his 
plantation  to  the  city,  where  he  was  close 
ly  imprisoned,  and  obtained  his  release 
from  this  duress,  at  the  call  of  his  dying 


wife  and  of  his  children,  only  by  subscri 
bing  a  declaration  to  the  British  crown. 
This  he  did,  though  not  without  expressly 
excepting  to  that  clause  which  required 
him  with  his  arms  to  support  the  royal 
government ;  and  he  received  a  verbal  as 
surance  that  such  services  would  never 
be  required  at  his  hands.  "  When  the 
regular  forces  of  his  majesty,"  were  the 
words  of  the  British  officers,  '-need  the 
aid  of  the  inhabitants  for  the  defence  of 
the  province,  it  will  be  high  time  for  them 
to  leave  it."  But,  owing  to  the  various 
successes  of  the  Americans,  they  required 
this  aid  much  sooner  than  they  imagined. 

Hayne,  having  made  his  peace  with  the 
British  government  on  the  only  terms 
which  it  would  admit,  had  scarcely  re 
turned  to  his  plantation,  where  he  received 
the  last  breath  of  a  dying  wife,  and  buried 
a  second  one  of  his  children,  when  he  was 
peremptorily  required  to  join  the  royal 
standard  ! 

His  resolution  was  that  of  the  patriot. 
Forced  to  draw  the  sword,  he  drew  it  in 
behalf  of  his  country.  He  repaired  to  the 
American  camp,  recruited  his  troop,  and 
commenced  a  career  which  was  destined 
to  be  as  short  as  it  was  spirited.  By  a 
sudden  dash  which  he  made  upon  the 
quarterhouse,  an  outpost  of  the  enemy  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Charles 
ton,  he  succeeded  in  making  General  Wil 
liamson  a  prisoner. 

This  man  was  a  traitor  to  the  state,  and 
his  life  was  forfeited  to  the  gallows.  To 
rescue  him  from  this  probable  fate,  the 
British  commandant  in  the  city  ordered 
out  his  whole  cavalry,  which  succeeded 
in  overtaking  Hayne's  party,  dispersed  it, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


EXECUTION  OF  COLONEL  IIAYNE. 


881 


and  rescued  Williamson.  Unfortunately, 
Colonel  Hayne  also  fell  into  their  hands. 

He  was  carried  to  Charleston,  and  kept 
in  close  custody  until  Earl  Rawdon,  leav 
ing  Stewart  at  Orangeburg,  arrived  in  the 
city.  Hayne  was  then  brought  before  a 
court  of  inquiry.  The  members  of  the 
court  upon  this  examination  were  not 
sworn,  nor  were  the  witnesses;  yet, in  con 
sequence  of  this  examination,  "Lord  Raw 
don  and  the  commandant,  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Nesbitt  Balfour, resolved  upon  his 
execution,  for  having  been  found  under 
arms,  and  employed  in  raising  a  regiment 
to  oppose  the  British  government, though 
he  had  become  a  subject,  and  accepted 
the  protection  of  that  government  after 
the  reduction  of  Charleston." 

Such  were  the  terms  and  reasons  for 
this  decision,  which  was  ordered  to  be  car 
ried  into  effect  two  days  after.  This  sud 
den,  unlooked-for,  and  unjust  sentence, 
was  equally  unexpected  by  the  prisoner 
himself  and  by  the  citizens.  It  was  not 
supposed  that  a  mere  court  of  inquiry 
could  be  resolved  into  one  of  final  trial 
and  cond-emnation.  The  men  of  the  city, 
including  many  British  and  loyalist  resi 
dents,  with  Governor  Bull  at  their  head, 
pleaded  in  his  behalf;  the  women  peti 
tioned  in  person,  and  with  his  little  chil 
dren  implored  on  bended  knees  for  remis 
sion  of  the  sentence ;  but  Rawrdon  and 
Balfour  were  inexorable.  It  has  likewise 
been  suggested  that  Hayne  was  only  a 
chosen  sacrifice  to  the  manes  of  the  vic 
tim  of  Arnold's  treachery.  Balfour  en 
dorsed  one  of  the  petitions,  offered  in  be 
half  of  Hayne,  with  the  two  words,  "Major 
Andre!''  The  unhappy  man  was  less  moved 
111 


than  his  fellow-citizens  and  friends.  He 
expressed  no  alarm  at  the  event,  nnd  only 
requested  the  existing  authorities  to  ac 
commodate  the  mode  of  his  execution  to 
a  soldier's  feelings ;  but  this  was  denied 
him,  and  he  perished  on  the  scaffold. 

The  proceedings  in  his  case  were  obvi 
ously  parallel  to  those  of  Andre.  Attend 
ed  by  thousands  of  spectators,  gloomy  and 
sad  as  by  an  impending  calamity  to  them 
selves,  he  walked  to  the  place  of  doom. 
His  carriage  was  firm,  manly,  and  unos 
tentatious.  To  his  eldest  son,  a  lad  about 
thirteen  years  of  age,  on  the  morning  of 
the  fatal  day,  he  delivered  all  the  papers 
which  were  connected  with  his  fate,  and 
gave  his  final  instructions  as  to  the  dis 
position  of  his  remains.  Ascending  the 
scaffold,  he  parted  from  his  friends  with 
the  simple  assurance  that  he  would  en 
deavor  to  show  them  "  how  an  American 
should  die  ;"  and,  with  that  unshaken  res 
olution  which  had  distinguished  his  de 
portment  throughout  the  painful  scene, 
he  himself  gave  the  signal  which  hurried 
him  into  eternity. 

The  execution  of  Hayne  greatly  an 
gered  the  whole  country.  General  Greene 
himself  determined  to  revenge  the  out 
rage,  and  wrote:  "It  is  my  intention  to 
demand  the  reasons  of  the  colonel's  bein»; 

O 

put  to  death ;  and  if  they  are  unsatisfac 
tory,  as  I  expect  they  will  be,  to  publish 
my  intention  of  giving  no  quarters  to 
British  officers,  of  any  rank,  that  fall  into 
our  hands." 

Unsatisfied  by  the  explanations  which 
were  offered  by  the  British  commander, 
Greene  subsequently  issued  a  proclama 
tion,  in  which  he  declared  it  to  be  his  res- 


882 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART    II. 


olute  purpose  "  to  make  reprisals  for  all 
such  inhuman  insults  as  often  as  they 
take  place."  This  proclamation  was  in 
duced  by  the  voluntary  self-devotion  of 
all  the  officers  of  the  southern  army,  who 
met  together  and  addressed  a  memorial 
to  the  general-in-chief,  in  which,  after  de- 
clarino-  what  had  reached  their  ears  of  the 

o 

enormous  cruelties  practised  by  the  Brit 
ish,  and  of  the  bloody  execution  which 
has  just  been  recorded,  they  recommend 
measures  of  immediate  retaliation  by  a 
similar  treatment  of  all  British  subjects ; 
avowing  their  perfect  readiness  to  abide 
by  a  recommendation  which,  in  the  event 
of  capture,  at  once  placed  themselves  en 
tirely  without  the  pale  of  mercy  from  the 
enemy.  "  But,"  concludes  this  noble  doc 
ument,  "  we  had  rather  commit  ourselves 
to  the  most  desperate  situations  than  pros 
ecute  this  just  and  necessary  war  upon 
terms  so  dishonorable." 

Fortunately  for  the  cause  of  humanity, 
but  a  little  time  elapsed  after  this  when 
the  policy  of  the  war  rendered  unneces 
sary  the  adoption  of  such  rigorous  meas 
ures.  Still,  the  American  general  wore 
the  countenance  of  one  who  was  inflexible 
in  his  determination.  A  very  few  days 
after  the  execution  of  Ilayne,  Marion's 
cavalry  captured  three  British  officers 
with  an  enemy's  party  ;  and  the  affair  of 
the  Eutaw  placed  in  the  hands  of  Greene 
a  prisoner  sufficiently  distinguished  to 
awaken  all  the  apprehensions  of  Balfour 
for  his  safety .* 

General  Greene  was  disappointed  of  his 
expected  reinforcements.  Wayne,  with 
his  Pennsylvanians,  had  been  held  back 

*  Simms. 


by  Washington,  who  reserved  him  for  the 
more  important  field  of  action  at  York- 
town.  Only  five  hundred  of  the  three 
thousand  five  hundred  North-Carolinians 
promised  had  come  forward,  and  these 
were  without  arms.  The  seven  hundred 
mountaineers  from  beyond  the  Allegha- 
nies,  under  Colonel  Shelby,  of  Virginia, 
had  turned  back,  under  the  supposition 
that  Greene  was  too  strong  to  need  them. 
General  Sumter,  being  ill  and  displeased, 
had  retired  from  the  service,  leaving  but 
a  small  remnant  of  his  band,  under  the 
command  of  Colonel  Henderson.  The 
patience  of  Greene  was  exhausted.  "  We 
must  have  victory  or  ruin !"  was  the  em 
phatic  expression  of  his  eagerness  to  be 
on  the  move. 

The  partisan  corps,  however,  had  not 
been  idle  during  this  repose  of  the  main 
body  upon  the  "  benign"  hills  of  the  San- 
tee.  Colonel  Washington  had  been  doing 
effective  service  in  the  country  bordering 
on  the  lower  Santee,  in  which  he  cap 
tured  two  bodies  of  the  enemy's  horse. 
Colonels  Lee  and  Henderson, crossing  the 
Congaree  with  their  cavalry,  penetrated 
between  the  main  body  of  the  British  ar 
my  and  the  post  at  Orangeburg,  and,  in 
sight  of  the  latter  place,  drove  in,  dis 
persed,  and  captured,  several  of  their  de 
tachments.  Equally  active  with  these  of 
ficers  were  Marion  and  Maharn,  together 
with  Harden  and  his  mounted  militia, 
in  covering  the  low  country  bej^ond  the. 
Edisto. 

Greene,  speaking  of  his  cavalry  in  these 
expeditions,  asserts  it  to  be  unexcelled  by 
any  in  the  world.  In  this  guerilla  ser 
vice  the  Americans  soon  proved  their  su 


'{EVOLUTIONARY.]          MOVEMENTS  OF  GREENE  AND  STEWART. 


883 


Aug.  22, 


perior  activity.  Colonel  Stewart,  having 
his  communications  with  the  interior  thus 
constantly  interrupted,  and  his  provisions 
cut  off,  was  confined  to  the  sole  resource 
of  getting  his  supplies  from  Charleston, 
and  this  became  everyday  more  and  more 
precarious.  For  every  wagon-load  of  pro 
visions  he  paid  the  price  in  blood. 

General  Greene,  having  resolved  upon 
action,  broke  up  his  camp  on  the 
hills  of  the  Santee,  crossed  the 
"Wateree  near  Camden,  then  the  Conga- 
ree,  and,  moving  along  its  southern  bank, 
finally  reached  Howell's  ferry,  on  the  lat 
ter  river.  While  the  American 
Aug.  28, 

general,  in  consequence  of  the 

swollen  swamps  and  water-courses,  was 
obliged  to  make  this  extensive  circuit  of 
more  than  seventy  miles,  Stewart  took 
the  occasion  to  fall  back  to  Eutaw  springs, 
some  forty  miles  from  his  late  post,  and 
within  about  sixty  of  Charleston,  in  order 
to  secure  a  junction  with  some  reinforce 
ments  and  provisions  on  their  route  from 
that  city. 

The  British  commander  was  followed 
by  Colonel  Lee,  who  was  pushed  forward 
to  watch  his  movements ;  while  General 
Pickens,  with  the  state  militia,  and  Colo 
nel  Henderson,  with  the  remnant  of  Sum- 
ter's  brigade,  advanced  with  a  similar  ob 
ject  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  enemy's 
post  at  Orangeburg.  These  various  corps 
joined  the  main  army  of  the  Americans 
as  it  moved  slowly  down  the  south  bank 
of  the  Congaree,  toward  the  old  post  at 
Motte's,  where  Greene,  having  resolved 
upon  a  discontinuance  of  the  pursuit,  de 
termined  to  await  the  progress  of  events. 

This  resolution,  as  it  seemed  to  indicate 


a  want  of  confidence  in  the  American  com 
mander,  encouraged  the  British.  Halting 
upon  his  ground  at  Eutaw,  Stewart  pre 
pared  to  meet  and  fight  his  enemy.  Hav 
ing  withdrawn  his  garrison  at  Orangeburg 
(which  he  established  at  Fairlawn),  he  re 
called  to  his  aid  that  which  had  been  sta 
tioned  at  the  latter  post  as  a  foil  to  Ma 
rion.  This  movement  he  was  enabled  to 
make  in  consequence  of  the  disappear 
ance  of  the  "  Swamp-Fox,"  who,  in  one  of 
his  secret  expeditions,  had  rapidly  crossed 
the  country  to  Pon-Pon,  where  Colonel 
Harden  was  closely  pressed  by  a  British 
force  of  five  hundred  men. 

To  pass  through  both  lines  of  the  ene 
my's  communication  with  Charleston ;  to 
surprise,  defeat,  and  disperse  this  force, 
under  Major  Fraser,  numerically  superior 
to  his  own ;  to  return  by  the  same  route, 
pass  the  Santee,  put  his  prisoners  in  safe 
ty,  and  then  to  advance  upon  the  Eutaw, 
where  he  effected  a  junction  with 
the  main  army,  was  but  the  work 
of  a  few  days  and  of  ordinary  effort  with 
this  able  warrior. 

At  Lamson's  place,  the  point  of  junc 
tion  with  Marion,  General  Greene  left  be 
hind  his  baggage  and  tents,  and  pushed 
on  with  greater  rapidity  until  he 
arrived  at  Burdell's  tavern,  with 
in  seven  miles  of  the  enemy,  with  whom 
he  determined  to  try  his  strength  on  the 
coming  morning. 

The  general-in-chief,  with  his  usual  read 
iness  to  share  the  hardships  of  the  com 
mon  soldier,  lay  down  that  night  upon  the 
bare  ground,  with  his  head  resting  upon 
the  protruding  root  of  an  "  ancient  China- 
tree." 


884 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


PART    II- 


CHAPTER    GUI. 

Battle  of  Eutaw  Springs. — Comparative  Numbers. — Order  of  Battle. — The  Attack  begins. — The  British  Line. — The  Ke- 
serve. — The  Struggle. — The  Militia  give  way. — Spirit  of  the  North-Carolinians. — A  Fierce  Charge. — The  Marylanders 
and  Virginians. — Fixed  Bayonets. — Desperate  Resistance  of  the  Enemy. — Colonel  Washington  and  his  Troopers  suf 
fer. — Washington  receives  a  Wound. — Heaps  of  Dead  and  Wounded. — The  Militia  at  the  Hum-Casks. — Sally  of  the 
Enemy. — General  Greene  in  Possession  of  the  Field  of  Battle. — A  Disputed  Victory. — Death  of  Colonel  Campbell. — 
"I  die  content." — The  Prisoners. — Major  Barry. — An  Undignified  Lift. — "The  Very  Man." — Colonel  Stewart  at 
Monk's  Corner. — Greene  on  the  Hills  of  the  Santee. — Close  of  the  Campaign  in  Carolina. 


1781. 


NEXT  morning,  at  the  early  hour 
of  four,  the  American  troops  were 
on  the  march  to  attack  the  enemy.  Gen 
eral  Greene's  force  was  small,  amounting 
to  only  two  thousand  men.  That  of  the 
British  numbered  twenty-three  hundred. 
The  former  had  the  superiority  in  caval 
ry,  the  latter  in  general  discipline  as  well 
as  in  numbers. 

Greene  led  on  his  troops  in 
Sept,  8, 

two  columns.  Ihe  first,  com 
posed  of  the  militia  of  North  and  South 
Carolina,,  was  commanded  by  Marion  and 
Pickens,  and  Colonel  de  Mulmedy.  The 
second,  comprising  the  continental  troops 
from  North  Carolina,  Virginia,  and  Mary 
land,  were  led  on  by  General  Simmer, 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell,  and  Colo 
nel  Otho  Williams.  Lee,  with  his  legion, 
covered  the  right  flank  ;  and  Henderson, 
with  the  troops  of  Sumter,  the  left.  Colo 
nel  Washington,  with  his  cavalry,  and  Cap 
tain  Kirkwood,  with  the  Delawares,  com 
posed  the  reserve.  Two  pieces  of  artil 
lery  moved  at  the  head  of  each  column. 
So  completely  had  the  detached  par 
ties  of  the  Americans  cut  off  those  of  the 
British,  that  the  advance  of  their  army 


was  unsuspected.  The  only  patrol  had 
been  captured  during  the  night;  and  so 
entirely  secure  did  Stewart  esteem  him 
self  in  his  position,  that  an  unarmed  par 
ty  of  a  hundred  men  had  been  sent  out 
to  gather  sweet  potatoes. 

Two  deserters  from  Greene's  army  con 
veyed  to  the  British  commander  the  first 
intelligence  of  the  approach  of  the  Amer 
icans  ;  and  Captain  Coffin,  at  the  head  of 
his  cavalry,  was  sent  out,  as  well  to  recall 
the  "potato-rooting"  party,  as  to  recon 
noitre  the  Americans  and  cover  the  par 
ty.  When  the  American  advance  had  ar 
rived  within  four  miles  of  the  enemy's 
camp,  it  was  encountered  by  the  detach 
ment  of  horse  and  foot,  about  two  hundred 
strong,  under  Coffin,  who  charged  it  at 
once  with  a  confidence  which  showed  his 
ignorance  of  its  strength,  and  of  the  great 
er  force  of  which  it  was  the  precursor. 
He  was  quickly  repulsed  by  the  Ameri 
cans,  who  charged  briskly  in  turn,  killed 
several,  took  forty  prisoners,  and  put  the 
rest  to  flight.  The  firing  alarmed  the  po 
tato-diggers,  who  all  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Americans. 

In  the  meantime,  Stewart  pushed  for- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


BATTLE  OF  EUTAW  SPRINGS. 


885 


ward  a  detachment  of  infantry,  in  order 
to  keep  the  Americans  employed  while 
he  prepared  for  battle.  But  Greene,  per 
suaded  by  the  audacity  of  Coffin  that  his 
party  formed  the  van  of  the  British,  im 
mediately  halted  and  formed  his  troops 
for  action,  in  two  lines,  which  was  readily 
effected  from  the  line  of  march.  The  col 
umn  of  militia,  when  displayed,  composed 
the  first ;  the  South-Carolinians,  in  equal 
divisions,  being  on  the  right  and  left,  and 
the  North-Carolinians  in  the  centre.  Ma 
rion  commanded  the  right,  Pickens  the 
left,  and  Colonel  de  Malrnedy  the  centre. 
The  continentals  formed  the  second  line, 
with  the  Virginians,  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Campbell,  on  the  right ;  the  Ma- 
rylanders,  under  Williams  and  Howard, 
on  the  left;  and  the  North-Carolinians, 
under  Sumner,  in  the  centre.  Lee  and 
his  legion  covered  the  right  flank ;  and 
Colonel  Henderson,  with  the  state  troops, 
including  Sumter's  brigade,  the  left.  Colo 
nel  Washington,  with  his  cavalry,  and  the 
Delawares  of  Kirk  wood,  under  cover  of 
the  adjoining  woods,  formed  the  reserve. 
Two  three-pounders  were  posted  in  front 
of  the  first  line,  and  two  sixes  in  the  same 
position  in  the  second. 

Thus  formed,  the  troops  marched  for 
ward,  but  slowly,  as  the  ground  was  cov 
ered  with  wood,  until  within  a  mile  of 
the  enemy's  camp,  when  they  encount 
ered  a  strong  detachment  of  infantry. 
The  American  van,  however,  spiritedly 
attacked  this  advanced  body,  and  drove 
it  back  to  the  British  line,  which  Stewart 
in  the  meanwhile  had  drawn  up  for  bat 
tle  about  two  hundred  rods  west  of  the 
Eutaw  springs. 


The  British  troops  were  arrayed  in  a 
single  line,  in  a  wood.  Their  right  was 
composed  of  the  third  regiment  ( "  the 
Buffs"),  resting  on  the  Eutaw  creek  ;  the 
remnant  of  Cruger's  brave  royalists  was 
posted  in  the  centre  ;  and  the  left,  formed 
of  the  veteran  sixty-third  and  sixty-fourth 
regiments,  extended  across  the  Charleston 
road.  Major  Marjoribanks,  with  three  hun 
dred  choice  light-infantry,  was  posted  in 
the  thickets  which  bordered  the  Eutaw 
creek,  so  as  to  cover  the  right,  and  watch 
the  flank  of  the  Americans,  should  it  be 
opened  at  any  time  to  attack.  The  ar 
tillery  was  distributed  along  the  line ; 
and  a  corps  of  reserve,  consisting  of  Cof 
fin's  cavalry  and  a  detachment  of  infantry, 
was  so  posted,  under  cover  of  the  wood, 
as  to  support  the  left  and  command  the 
Charleston  road. 

At  a  few  hundred  paces  in  the  rear  of 
the  line  were  some  cleared  fields,  where 
the  tents  of  the  British  encampment  still 
remained  standing,  and  bounded  on  the 
north  by  the  creek  flowing  from  Eutaw 
springs.  This  creek  is  a  bold  one,  having 
a  high  bank,  thickly  bordered  with  brush 
and  undergrowth.  From  the  dwellin«-- 

o  o 

house  on  the  premises  to  this  bank  ran  a 
garden  enclosed  with  palisades ;  and  the 
windows  of  the  house,  which  was  two  sto 
ries  high,  with  garret-rooms,  commanded 
the  entire  adjoining  fields.  The  house 
was  strongly  built  of  brick,  and  surround 
ed  with  the  usual  tenements  of  stables, 
outhouses,  and  barn,  the  latter  standing 

7  '  O 

at  a  short  distance  to  the  southeast  of  the 
dwelling. 

The  Americans  approached  from  the 
west.  Their  large  superiority  in  cavalry 


880 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


made  the  house  a  point  of  great  impor 
tance  to  the  British  commander,  who  ac 
cordingly  gave  orders  to  Major  Sheridan 
to  occupy  it  at  the  first  symptom  of  de 
feat,  and  to  cover  the  army  from  the  up 
per  windows. 

The  American  front  line  pressed  on 
with  loud  shouts  after  the  enemy's  re 
tiring  detachment  which  it  had  first  met, 
until  it  found  itself  engaged  with  the  en 
tire  British  line.  The  day  was  fair,  and 
intensely  hot ;  but  the  action  opened  in 
a  wood,  the  shade  of  which  afforded  some 
relief  to  the  combatants. 

The  battle  was  begun  with  great  spirit, 
and  the  carnage  was  severe.  The  field- 
pieces  on  both  sides  were  dismounted  ; 
and  the  struggle  was  manfully  sustained 
by  the  militia,  whose  valor  and  unflinch 
ing  perseverance,  amid  the  continued  fal 
ling  of  their  comrades  around  them,  won 
the  admiration  of  both  armies.  Unfalter 
ingly  they  stood  their  ground  until  they 
had  discharged  seventeen  rounds,  when 
they  gave  way  before  a  general  move 
ment  of  the  enemy  in  advance. 

General  Sumner  now  came  up  with  the 
North  Carolina  regulars  of  the  second  line, 
who  made  such  an  impression  by  their 
spirited  onset  upon  the  enemy,  that  Colo 
nel  Stewart  was  compelled  to  bring  up 
the  infantry  of  his  reserve  on  his  left 
The  engagement  between  these  two  fresh 
corps  now  became  hot.  At  length,  Sum- 
ner's  brigade,  after  sustaining  the  conflict 
with  numbers  far  superior  to  its  own,  also 
fell  back. 

Elated  at  this  result,  and  conceiving 
the  victory  to  be  sure,  the  British  rushed 
forward  in  pursuit,  and  their  line  in  con 


sequence  became  deranged.  At  this  im 
portant  crisis,  the  American  commander 
ordered  up  Williams  and  Campbell,  with 
the  Marylanders  and  Virginians,  to  the 
rescue,  and  to  sweep  the  field  with  their 
bayonets.  This  order  was  obeyed  with 
promptness ;  the  two  brigades  received 
it  with  a  shout,  and  advanced  with  a  de 
gree  of  impatience  which  scarcely  heeded 
the  deliberate  and  measured  guidance  of 
their  officers.  When  within  thirty  yards 
of  the  enemy,  they  delivered  a  destruc 
tive  fire,  and  the  whole  body,  with  trailed 
arms,  rushed  forward  to  the  charge,  ap 
parently  unmoved  by  the  stream  of  lire 
that  blazed  incessantly  before  them. 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  intrepidity 
of  both  officers  and  men  on  the  occasion. 
They  continued  to  press  firmly  on  with 
out  flinching  through  a  heavy  shower  of 
cannon  and  musket  balls,  until  they  bore 
down  all  before  them.  The  enemy's  ad 
vanced  left  recoiled  beneath  the  desper 
ate  resolution  of  this  charge.  Their  dis 
order  became  visible,  and  was  confirmed 
by  the  prompt  movement  of  Colonel  Lee. 
Wheeling  the  legion  infantry  round  from 
its  position  on  the  extreme  right  flank,  he 
poured  in  upon  the  British  left  and  rear 
a  close  enfilading  fire,  and  their  confusion 
became  irretrievable. 

Colonel  Henderson  was  wounded  early 
in  the  action,  and,  while  the  command  was 
being  shifted  to  Colonel  Hampton,  the 
state  troops  became  momentarily  disor 
dered,  but  soon  recovered  themselves  and 
made  a  spirited  charge,  in  which  they 
took  a  hundred  prisoners. 

The  British  troops  on  the  left  were 
now  put  to  total  rout,  and,  as  their  officers 


REVOLUTIONAKY.] 


AN  UNEXPECTED  REVERSE. 


•strove  to  rally  them,  Colonel  Washington 
brought  up  his  reserve  and  prevented 
their  efforts  to  reform.  The  centre  and 
right  of  the  enemy  still  remained  much 
more  numerous  than  the  American,  and 
awaited  the  threatened  charge  with  a  con 
stancy  that  seemed  unshaken.  But  the 
disorder  and  flight  of  the  left  had  its  ef 
fect  upon  the  other  divisions  of  the  army  ; 
and  the  pressure  of  the  fugitives  from  the 
left  upon  the  centre,  imparted  a  portion 
of  their  panic  to  the  rest  of  their  compan 
ions.  The  advance  of  the  Marylanders, 
at  this  lucky  moment,  helped  to  increase 
the  confusion  of  the  foe.  The  former  de 
livered  their  fire  with  deliberation  and 
fatal  effect,  and  the  enemy  yielded  along 
their  whole  front. 

Completely  triumphant,  as  they  now 
supposed  themselves,  the  Americans  pur 
sued  the  enemy  back  through  the  open 
fields,  and  strove  to  cut  them  off  from  the 
brick  house,  to  which  the  fugitives  natu 
rally  turned  their  eyes.  Successful  in  this, 
the  victory  would  have  been  complete;  for 
the  great  loss  which  the  foe  had  sustained 
must  have  compelled  his  surrender,  unless 
he  could  secure  this  shelter,  which  was 
now  his  object.  It  was  in  striving  to  de 
feat  this  object  that  the  Americans  sus 
tained  their  greatest  loss;  and  the  affair, 
which  so  far  had  promised  a  glorious  vic 
tory,  ended  in  the  complete  disappoint 
ment  of  the  conquering  army,  and  the 
temporary  defeat  of  its  proudest  hopes. 

At  this  stage  of  the  battle,  Major  Mar- 
joribanks.  from  the  cover  of  the  thickets 
on  the  borders  of  the  creek,  still  showed 
fight,  and  kept  up  a  harassing  fire  upon 
the  Americans.  General  Greene  saw  that 


he  must  be  dislodged  from  this  position, 
and  despatched  Colonel  Washington  to 
perform  the  duty ;  but  his  cavalry  got  so 
entangled  and  separated  in  the  woods, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  it  to  charge,  and 
each  horseman  was  thus  left  to  defend 
himself  apart  from  his  comrades  against 
the  whole  corps  of  infantry.  An  attempt 
to  gain  the  enemy's  rear  was  still  more 
disastrous.  This  unequal  struggle  soon 
proved  fatal  to  Washington  and  his  dra 
goons.  The  colonel  himself  received  the 
thrust  of  a  bayonet,  and  would  have  been 
slain,  had  he  not  been  saved  by  a  British 
officer  and  taken  prisoner.  Hardly  one 
of  Washington's  officers  escaped  death  or 
a  wound ;  while  the  ground  was  strewn 
with  the  horses  and  troopers,  either  dead 
or  struggling  in  the  last  agonies.  Mar- 
joribanks  still  held  his  ground,  although 
Hampton  had  come  up  to  the  rescue  of 
the  cavalry.  Kirkwood's  Delawares  now 
made  an  impetuous  rush  with  the  bayo 
net,  to  revenge  their  fallen  companions, 
and  succeeded  in  expelling  the  British 
from  this  strong  position.  But  Marjori- 
banks  retired  slowly,  still  holding  on  to 
the  thickets,  and  making  for  a  new  posi 
tion,  of  nearly  equal  strength,  behind  the 
palisades  of  the  garden. 

Here  the  British  army  had  partly  ral 
lied,  though  nothing  could  well  exceed 
the  terror  in  its  encampment.  Every 
thing  was  given  up  for  lost.  The  com 
missaries  destroyed  their  stores ;  and  the 
numerous  retainers  of  the  army,  mostly 
loyalists  and  deserters,  who  dreaded  fal 
ling  into  the  hands  of  the  American,  seiz 
ing  the  horses  wherever  they  might  be 
found,  lied  in  terror,  carrying  consterna- 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  11. 


tion  where  they  went,  even  down  to  the 
gates  of  Charleston.  Their  alarm  might 
not  have  been  groundless,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  misfortunes  of  the  Americans,  in  i 
the  losses  of  Washington's  cavalry,  and 
the  rash  pursuit,  by  the  infantry,  of  the 
disordered  British. 

By  the  time  that  Marjoribanks  had 
gained  the  palisades,  Major  Sheridan  had 
thrown  his  troops  into  the  house ;  and 
some  of  the  routed  companies  from  the 
British  left  had  made  good  their  retreat 
into  the  picketed  garden,  from  the  inter 
vals  of  which  they  could  fire  with  secu 
rity  and  effect. 

The  whole  British  line  was  now  in  full 
flight  before  the  American  bayonet.  The 
retreat  of  the  enemy  lay  directly  through 
their  own  encampment,  where  their  tents 
were  all  standing,  and  a  thousand  objects 
scattered  around  in  grateful  profusion, 
which,  to  the  famished  troops  of  Greene, 
were  too  tempting  to  be  withstood.  Fa 
tigued,  and  almost  naked,  panting  with 
heat,  and  suffering  from  thirst  —  at  the 
same  time  believing  their  victory  to  be 
secure  —  the  pursuing  Americans  fell  in 
to  acts  of  insubordination,  to  which  the 
fire  of  the  British  from  the  contiguous 
buildings  eminently  contributed.  The 
shelter  of  the  tents  from  this  fire  became 
an  excuse  of  which  these  brave  men  did 
not  scruple  to  avail  themselves :  and  here 
happened  one  of  those  miserable  reverses 
which  so  often  baffle  equally  the  calcula 
tions  of  wisdom  and  the  deeds  of  valor ; 
here  the  American  line  got  into  irretriev 
able  confusion.  Its  officers,  nearly  aban 
doned  by  their  soldiers,  became  conspic 
uous  marks  for  the  British  in  the  house, 


who  now  poured  their  fire  with  deadly 
aim  from  its  windows.  In  vain  did  they 
seek  to  rescue  their  men  from  the  bane 
ful  consequences  which  had  folio  wed  their 
entrance  into  the  encampment :  they  had 
dispersed  without  order  among  the  tents, 
had  broken  open  the  casks  of  rum,  and 
drunk  so  freely,  that  they  became  lost  to 
all  sense  of  discipline,  and  utterly  unman 
ageable. 

The  British  officers  promptly  availed 
themselves  of  this  miserable  condition  of 
things.  Marjoribanks  and  Coffin  made 
simultaneous  movements;  the  one  from 
his  thicket  on  the  left,  the  other  with  his 
dragoons  from  the  wood  on  the  right  of 
the  American  line.  General  Greene  saw 
the  danger  which  threatened  him,  and 
strove  to  avert  it  by  ordering  Lee  to  fall 
upon  Coffin.  That  officer,  however,  not 
being  within  reach,  having  probably  dis 
appeared  in  pursuit  of  fugitives,  his  subor 
dinate,  Major  Eggleston,  hurried  up  with 
a  few  troopers  of  the  legion,  and  made 
an  onset  upon  the  enemy's  cavalry ;  but 
his  force  was  too  small  to  make  the  de 
sired  impression,  and  he  was  driven  back 
by  Coffin,  who  immediately  after  hastened 
to  charge  the  rear  of  the  Americans,  now 
dispersed  among  the  tents.  Here,  how 
ever,  he  encountered  Hampton,  who  was 
advancing  to  the  relief  of  Eggleston,  and 
by  him  was  successfully  charged  and  beat 
en  in  turn.  After  a  severe  struggle,  the 
British  cavalry  was  forced  back  to  its  cov 
er  within  the  wood. 

A  moment  after,  the  command  of  Colo 
nel  Hampton  was  almost  annihilated  by  a 
fire  from  the  picketed  garden,  where  Mar 
joribanks  had  concealed  himself.  This 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


KESULTS  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  EUTAW. 


889 


skilful  officer,  to  whom  the  British  army 
chiefly  owed  its  safety,  having  dispersed 
the  cavalry  of  Hampton,  proceeded  to  the 
performance  of  another  movement,  which 
was  decisive  of  the  strife. 

The  British  artillery,  which  had  been 
captured  by  the  Americans  when  they 
swept  the  field,  had  been  brought  up  and 
opened  upon  the  brick  house,  where  the 
enemy  were  strongly  sheltered.  Unfor 
tunately,  in  the  hurry  of  the  fight,  the 
pieces  had  been  brought  too  near  the 
house,  and  were  commanded  by  its  fire, 
which  very  soon  killed  or  disabled  all  the 
artillerists.  As  soon  as  Marjoribanks  had 
scattered  Hampton's  cavalry,  he  sallied 
into  the  field,  recaptured  the  pieces,  and 
hurried  them  under  cover.  Then,  being 
reinforced  by  parties  from  the  house  and 
garden,  he  charged  the  Americans,  scat 
tered  among  the  tents,  drove  them  before 
him,  and  bayoneted  some  of  the  soldiers 
who  were  still  clinging  to  the  rum-casks 
lying  about.  The  fugitives  found  safety 
only  in  the  cover  of  the  wood,  where  the 
army  of  Greene  had  rallied  ;  and  the  Brit 
ish,  too  much  crippled  to  venture  into  con 
flict  beyond  the  shelter  of  the  house  and 
outbuildings,  slowly  fell  back  upon  their 
position. 

General  Greene,  having  possessed  him 
self  of  the  field  of  battle,  left  a  strong 
picket-guard  there,  and  withdrew  with 
the  rest  of  his  troops  to  the  encampment 
(since  there  was  no  nearer  place  to  find 
water),  some  seven  miles  distant,  whence 
he  marched  in  the  morning. 

Thus  ended  the  severe  engagement  of 
the  ELI  taw,  in  which  both  parties  claimed 
the  victory.  There  is  no  diflicLilty,  how- 
112 


ever,  in  settling  the  question  of  dispute 
between  them :  the  advantage  remained 
with  the  patriots.  The  British  were  driven 
from  the  field  of  battle  at  the  point  of 
the  bayonet,  and  took  refuge  in  a  fortress. 
So  closely  had  they  been  pressed,  and  so 
narrow  was  their  escape,  that  a  forward 
party  of  the  Americans  was  only  prevent 
ed  from  entering  with  them  by  a  sudden 
closing  of  the  doors  in  the  face  of  some 
of  their  own  officers  and  men,  who  were 
taken  prisoners  in  consequence,  and  inter 
posed  by  the  captors  as  shields  for  the 
protection  of  their  persons  while  retreat 
ing  under  the  mouths  of  the  musketry 
which  lined  the  windows.  The  results  of 
the  action  are  undoubtedly  as  we  have 
given  them,  but  the  details  are  subjects 
of  considerable  question.  "  The  partisans 
of  the  South,"  says  Siinms,  "  were  espe 
cially  dissatisfied  with  the  reports  of  the 
affair.  That  they  did  their  duty  well  is 
undeniable.  They  make,  however,  an  un 
favorable  report  of  the  performances  of 
other  parties  of  whom  the  official  report 
speaks  favorably.  It  is  very  certain  that, 
in  the  management  of  the  conflict,  there 
were  many  mistakes,  if  not  much  bun 
gling." 

The  loss  on  both  sides  was  very  heavy. 
The  Americans  lost  about  five  hundred 
(a  fourth  of  their  whole  force),  including 
sixty  officers  !  Among  the  killed  was  the 
brave  Colonel  Campbell,  of  Virginia,  who 
fell  as  he  was  leading  on  his  brigade. 
Like  the  great  Wolfe  at  Quebec,  under 
similar  circumstances,  he  asked  with  his 
expiring  breath,  "  Who  flies  ?"  and  when 
told  that  the  British  were  giving  way,  hn 
exclaimed,  "  I  die  content '" 


890 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n, 


The  loss  of  the  enemy  was  about  eleven 
hundred,  comprising  nearly  one  half  of 
their  entire  force !  The  loss  of  British 
officers  was  also  very  severe,  but  not  so 
great  as  that  of  the  Americans.  Colonel 
Stewart  himself  was  wounded,  and  Major 
Marjoribanks,  who  had  so  highly  distin 
guished  himself  during  the  day,  died  of 
fever  during  the  march  to  Charleston. 
The  spot  where  he  lies  buried  is  still 
shown  by  the  roadside.  To  the  descend 
ants  of  his  enemies  he  is  indebted  for  a 
tornb  covering  his  remains. 

General  Greene  carried  off  no  less  than 
four  hundred  and  fifty  British  prisoners. 
Among  these  was  Major  Barry,  "  a  dapper 
little  gallant,"  and  the  secretary  of  Bal- 
four,  the  commandant  of  Charleston.  His 
capture  is  thus  humorously  related  by  the 
biographer  of  Greene:  — 

"Barry  fell  into  the  hands  of  Lieuten 


ant  Manning,  of  Lee's  legion. 


Manning, 


finding  the  upper  windows  [of  the  brick 
house]  to  be  full  of  British  musketeers, 
about  to  measure  his  person  with  their 
muzzles,  did  not  scruple  to  seize  Barry, 
and,  before  the  astonished  Briton  could 
conceive  his  purpose,  to  hoist  him  upon 
his  shoulders.  Thus  covered  with  the 
scarlet  of  a  British  uniform,  with  the  per 
son  of  one  of  their  officers  completely  cov 
ering  his  own,  the  lieutenant  reasonably 
calculated  that  he  should  interpose  a  suf 
ficient  physical  as  well  as  moral  reason 
why  he  should  not  incur  the  penalty  of 
a  shower  of  British  bullets.  It  was  in 
vain  that  Barry  interposed  in  the  lan 
guage  of  offended  dignity  :  <  Sir !'  said  he, 
'sir,  I  am  Henry  Barry;  I  am  deputy- 
adjutant  of  the  British  army;  captain  in 


Sept, 


his  majesty's  fifty-second  regiment;  sec- 
retary  to  the  commandant  of  Charleston/ 
&c. ;  'major  of,'  &c. — '•The  very  man  Iwaz 
in  search  of,'  answered  Manning.  '  I  am 
delighted  to  make  your  acquaintance ! 
Fear  nothing,  Adjutant  Barry,  fear  noth 
ing.  It  is  my  policy  to  take  care  of  you. 
and  I  am  determined  you  shall  take  care 
of  me  :  we  must,  in  times  like  these,  take 
care  of  each  other.'  And  so  saying,  the 
stalwart  lieutenant  strode  off  with  his 
captive  to  the  American  line."* 

If  further  proof  were  needed  to  estab 
lish  the  claim  of  the  Americans  to  victo 
ry,  it  was  found  in  the  events  of 
the  day  succeeding  the  engage 
ment.  Colonel  Stewart,  leaving  his  dead 
unburied,  and  seventy  of  his  wounded  to 
the  humanity  of  General  Greene,  break 
ing  the  stocks  of  one  thousand  muskets, 
and  destroying  his  stores,  abandoned  his 
position,  and  retreated  with  precipitation 
before  his  enemy. 

The  Americans  advanced  within  five 
miles  of  him  to  Ferguson's  swamp,  where 
he  made  his  first  halt.  It  was  Greene's 
intention  to  have  renewed  the  action  the 
next  day  ;  and  he  despatched  Marion  and 
Lee  to  watch  the  line  of  communication 
between  the  Eutaws  and  Fairlawn,  where 
the  British  had  a  strong  force,  under  Colo 
nel  M'Arthur,  so  as  to  prevent  the  junc 
tion  of  this  body  with  the  enemy's  main 
army.  The  simultaneous  movement  of 
the  two  corps  of  Stewart  and  M'Arthur 
enabled  them  to  meet  at  mid-distance,  and 
to  outnumber  the  American  detachment. 
By  this  movement,  their  junction  was  se 
cured  on  the  evening  of  the  day  after  the 

*  Simms. 


EVOLUTIONARY.]       GREENE  PURSUES.— THE  BRITISH  AGAIN  ADVANCE. 


891 


battle,  and  their  retreat  immediately  con 
tinued. 

General  Greene  pressed  the  pursuit  du 
ring  the  whole  of  one  day,  but  without 

success.     The  escape  of  Stewart 
Sept,  10, 

was  secured  for   the  time,  and 

the  American  general  was  compelled  to 
forego  his  object,  and  yield  his  earnest 
attention  to  the  prisoners  and  wounded 
in  his  hands. 

The  British  wounded  narrowly  escaped 
capture  by  Marion.  This  vigilant  parti 
san,  learning  that  they  had  been  shipped 
at  Fairlawn  for  Charleston,  descended  the 
country  rapidly  by  night,  and  would  have 
intercepted  them,  but  for  a  slave  of  one 
of  the  plantations,  who  gave  intelligence 
of  his  movements  to  the  British.  This 
brought  out  a  strong  detachment  against 
him  from  the  camp,  and  he  was  obliged 
in  turn  to  steal  away  and  avoid  intercep 
tion. 

Returning  from  the  pursuit  of  Colonel 
Stewart,  Greene  recrossed  the  San  tee,  and 
resumed  his  position  at  the  hills.  His  mi 
litia  soon  left  him.  Only  one  hundred  of 
the  North-Carolinians  now  remained,  and 
their  term  of  service  had  nearly  expired. 
Marion,  Pickens,  and  Hampton,  with  the 
South-Carolina  militia,  were  necessarily 
detached  to  cover  the  country  ;  and  with 
his  continentals  alone  he  had  to  perform 
all  the  painful  and  fatiguing  services  re 
quired  by  six  hundred  wounded,  half  of 
whom  were  prisoners.  There  was  also 

much  sickness  in  camp  :  and  ten 
Sept,  18,    _  _  „  J 

days  alter  the  battle  or  liditaw 

the  American  general  would  have  found 
it  impossible  to  muster,  at  headquarters, 
a  thousand  men  lit  for  action. 


In  the  meanwhile,  intelligence  reached 
the  South  that  Cornwallis  contemplated 
a  return  from  Virginia  to  the  Carolinas 
by  land  ;  and  Colonel  Stewart,  having  re 
cruited  his  army  from  below,  and  made 
his  cavalry  far  superior  to  that  of  his  op 
ponents,  once  more  advanced  to  the  Eu- 
taws,  driving  Marion  and  Hampton  across 
the  San  tee.  But  in  this  movement  the 
enemy  exhibited  little  vigor,  and  the  de 
tachments  of  the  patriots  soon  presented 
themselves  tauntingly  before  their  posts, 
but  failed  to  bring  them  forth.  Subse 
quently,  while  the  British  lay  at  Monk's 
Corner,  Captain  Maham,  of  Marion's  bri 
gade,  captured  one  of  their  positions,  and 
took  eighty  prisoners,  in  the  face  of  their 
whole  army. 

Dunns;;  the  illness  of  Colonel  Stewart, 

O  s 

who  was  still  suffering  from  his  wound  re 
ceived  at  Eutaw,  the  command  devolved 
upon  Major  Doyle  (afterward  a  general 
in  the  British  service  in  India),  who  took 
post  at  Fludd's  plantation,  three  miles 
above  Nelson's  ferry,  with  more  than  two 
thousand  men,  exclusive  of  the  three  hun 
dred  under  M' Arthur  at  Fairlawn.  This 
force,  so  superior  to  that  of  Greene,  gave 
to  the  enemy  the  undivided  command  of 
the  country  to  the  south  of  the  Santee 
and  Congaree,and  westward  to  theEdisto. 
But  this  superiority  did  not  long  con 
tinue.  Greene's  army  was  recruited  by 
Colonels  Shelby  and  Sevier  with  five  hun 
dred  riflemen  from  the  mountain  region, 
and  a  hundred  and  sixty  infantry  came 
from  North  Caroliiwa.  The  artillery  de 
stroyed  at  Eutaw  had  been  replaced  from 
Virginia,  and  the  cavalry  (so  essential  in 
such  a  country)  was  greatly  augmented. 


892 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


In  two  months  from  the  battle  of  Eutaw, 
the  American  general  was  in  a  capacity 
to  act.  Marion,  with  Sevier,  Shelby,  Hor- 
ry,  and  Mali  am,  was  ordered  to  operate 
between  the  San  tee  and  Charleston;  Suin- 
ter,  with  his  brigade  of  state  troops,  and 
some  companies  of  militia,  was  ordered  to 
take  post  at  Orangeburg,  and  defend  the 
country  against  the  loyalists  from  the 
city;  while  Pickens,  with  two  regiments, 
maintained  the  frontier  from  the  Indians, 
and  covered  it  against  the  predatory  war 
fare  still  raging  in  that  quarter. 

In  the  beginning  of  November,  Sumter 
and  Marion  crossed  the  rivers  and  moved 
against  the  enemy.  The  former  soon  en 
countered  a  strong  body  of  tories,  under 
General  Cunningham,  who  had  advanced 
upon  Orangeburg ;  and  one  of  his  officers, 
a  Major  Morris,  fell  into  an  ambuscade,  in 
which  he  sustained  some  loss.  The  forces 
of  Sumter  and  Cunningham,  being  nearly 
equal,  operated  as  mutual  checks  upon 
each  other.  The  latter,  who  had  issued 
from  Charleston  on  a  predatory  expedi 
tion  into  the  country,  was  obstructed  in 
his  progress ;  while  the  former,,  to  con 
tinue  this  restraint  upon  his  enemy,  and 
secure  himself,  fell  back  for  the  present 
upon  a  strong  and  well-selected  position. 

About  this  period  a  foray  was  under 
taken  by  William  Cunningham,  who,  by 
his  savage  ferocities,  had  acquired  the  nom 
dc  guerre  of  "Bloody  Hill"  which  is  gener 
ally  known  in  Carolina  tradition  as  "The 
Bloody  Scout!'  Cunningham,  with  two  or 
three  hundred  men,  made  his  way  from 
Charleston  to  the  interior.  Rendezvous 
ing  at  Rogues'  ford,  on  the  Edisto,  his  fol 
lowers  spread  themselves  on  every  hand, 


and  committed  the  most  horrible  exces> 
ses  against  persons  and  property.  In  most 
cases,  they  found  only  defenceless  people 
in  their  houses.  No  mercy  to  age  or  sex 
was  shown  by  these  wretches.  The  men 
were  commonly  shot  or  cut  down ;  the 
women  experienced  various  brutalities; 
boys  of  fifteen  were  hewn  to  pieces ;  the 
horses  and  all  moveable  property  carried 
off,  and,  when  not  moveable,  burnt.  "  The 
horrid  massacres,  on  Cloud's  creek,  of  Tur 
ner's  troop,"  says  Simnis,  from  whom  we 
gather  the  closing  details  of  the  southern 
campaign,  "  at  Edgehill,  of  Hayes'  party, 
where  scores  of  men  were  butchered  at 
the  same  moment  after  capture,  are  still 
reported  writh  shuddering  by  the  people 
of  the  regions  where  these  terrible  atro 
cities  were  committed The  detailed 

crimes  of  this  '  bloody  scout,'  as  still  dwelt 
upon  by  the  preserving  tradition,  would 
crowd  a  volume."  But  his  banditti  was 
finally  dispersed  and  destroyed,  few  es 
caping  the  red  hand  of  the  avenger.  The 
miscreant  leader  survived  the  war,  and  re 
turned  to  Europe ;  but,  in  all  the  region 
of  country  thus  ravaged,  he  remains  to 
this  day  the  proverbial  monster.  His  atro 
cious  deeds  were  indignantly  repudiated 
by  the  British  General  Leslie,  and  also  by 
General  Cunningham,  the  representative 
of  a  remote  branch  of  the  same  family. 
In  the  meanwhile,  Colonel  Stewart  was 
busy  ravaging  the  low  country,  laying  in 
pro  visions  for  sustaining  a  siege  in  Charles 
ton,  and  accumulating  that  plunder  with 
which  the  enemy's  fleet  of  three  hundred 
sail  was  laden  when  they  afterward  took 
flight  from  the  waters  of  Cooper  river.  In 
the  space  of  a  few  weeks,  Major  Doyle 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         GREENE  MOVES  TOWARD  THE  SEABOARD. 


893 


had  succeeded  in  stripping  the  country  on 
the  Santee  and  Congaree  of  every  negro, 
and  of  almost  every  thing  else  in  the  shape 
of  property  that  could  be  carried  away, 
and  would  have  extended  his  ravages  be 
yond  those  rivers,  but  that  Marion  and 
Hampton  guarded  their  opposite  banks. 
The  intelligence  of  the  surrender  of 
Yorktown  reached  Greene's  headquarters 
about  the  last  of  October,  and  the  day 
wras  observed  as  a  jubilee  in  the  camp, 
and  the  grateful  tidings  increased  the  de 
sire  of  the  American  general  to  cross  the 
rivers  which  separated  him  from  the  ene 
my,  and  drive  them  down  to  the  sea. 

The  camp  at  the  HiiHi  hills  of 
Nov.  18.     . 

the  ban  tee  was  at  length  broken 

up,  and  the  American  army  again  put  in 
motion.  As  the  route  led  away  from  the 
support  of  Marion,  who  was  to  guard  the 
left  wingon  the  march, Captain Eggleston, 
with  the  legion  and  a  detachment  of  Vir 
ginians,  was  sent  to  strengthen  him.  The 
main  army  proceeded  by  the  way  of  Sim- 
mons's  and  M'Cord's  ferries,  through  Or- 
angeburg,  to  Riddlespurger's  ;  thence  by 
the  Indianfield  road  to  Ferguson's  mill, 
•where  that  road  crosses  the  Edisto  —  the 
intention  of  Greene  being  apparently  to 
gain  a  position  on  Four  Holes,  in  order  to 
cover  the  country  beyond  him,  and  con 
trol  the  movements  of  the  enemy  on  his 
right.  Another  object  was  to  intercept 
the  flight  of  the  British  to  Savannah,  in 
telligence  having  been  received  by  Mari 
on,  from  Charleston,  that  such  was  their 
design. 

About  this  time,  to  the  astonishment 
of  all,  the  mountaineers,  in  the  absence 
of  Colonel  Shelby,  deserted  the  camp,  af 


ter  a  service  of  only  three  weeks.  They 
had  been  placed  under  the  command  of 
Marion,  who  sought  to  give  them  suffi 
cient  employment ;  but,  though  his  num 
bers  were  much  inferior,  he  found  it  im 
possible  to  bring  the  British  into  the  open 
field.  Detachments  of  about  two  hundred 
of  the  mountain-men,  however,  supported 
by  Maham's  cavalry,  had  moved  against 
the  redoubts  at  Wappetaw,  which  were 
abandoned  at  their  approach.  The  same 
body  attacked  Fairlawn,  while  the  enemy 
lay  at  Wantoot.  In  passing  the  latter 
post,  Marion  showed  himself,  but  did  not 
succeed  in  decoying  the  British  cavalry 
into  the  field.  At  Fairlawn,  the  attack  by 
Colonel  Shelby  was  successful :  the  place 
surrendered  at  discretion  ;  and  the  whole 
garrison,  with  some  three  hundred  stand 
of  arms,  stores,  and  provisions,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans.  The  house 
with  its  con  tents,  and  the  abatiis,  were  com 
mitted  to  the  flames. 

The  sudden  desertion  of  the  mountain 
eers  greatly  weakened  the  army  of  Gen 
eral  Greene,  but  he  had  advanced  too  far 
to  recede  ;  Marion  had  passed  the  Santee, 
and  any  disaster  to  him  would  have  com 
pelled  an  immediate  retreat.  Greene  re 
solved  to  act  with  boldness,  and  if  possi 
ble  force  the  British  commander  to  retire 
into  Charleston.  With  this  object,  he  left 
the  army,  on  its  march,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Colonel  Williams,  of  Maryland ; 
and,  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  cavalry, 
and  as  many  infantry,  moved  briskly  tow 
ard  Dorchester.  The  cavalry  consisted 
of  Lee's  and  Washington's,  and  one  hun 
dred  men  drawn  from  the  command  of 
Sumter.  The  infantry  were  those  of  the 


894 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PAKT    II 


legion,  and  some  of  the  Virginia  and  Ma 
ryland  troops.  The  command  of  this  de 
tachment  was  given  to  Colonel  Hampton. 

Greene  flattered  himself  that  he  should 
be  able  to  surprise  the  post  at  Dorchester; 
but  the  enemy,  hearing  of  his  approach, 
lay  upon  their  arms  all  night.  A  party 
which  had  been  sent  out  to  obtain  intel 
ligence  was  cut  to  pieces  by  Hampton's 
advanced  guard,  and  the  survivors  hotly 
pursued  close  to  the  enemy's  post.  The 
whole  British  cavalry  and  a  strong  force 
of  infantry  now  issued  forth  to  charge  the 
pursuers,  and  Greene  with  pleasure  saw 
their  approach;  but  they  recoiled  and  fled 
from  the  fierce  onset  of  Hampton's  horse. 
Twenty  or  thirty  were  slain,  wounded,  or 
captured  ;  and  such  an  alarm  did  the  pres 
ence  of  Greene  in  person  inspire  among 
them,  under  the  belief  that  his  whole  ar 
my  was  at  hand,  that  the  garrison  at  Dor 
chester  destroyed  everything  during  the 
night,  threw  their  cannon  into  the  river, 
and  made  a  rapid  retreat  to  Charleston. 
The  panic  of  the  enemy  increased,  their 
outposts  were  all  abandoned,  and  their 
whole  force  concentrated  at  the  quarter- 
house,  six  miles  from  the  city.  At  this 
point,  where  the  isthmus  is  narrow,  the 
fugitives  halted,  and  were  joined  by  Colo 
nel  Stewart,  who  meantime  had  been  hur 
rying  toward  the  town  by  another  route. 

General  Leslie  now  succeeded  Stewart, 
and  prepared  for  immediate  attack.  His 
force  was  nearly  five  thousand  men,  exclu 
sive  of  the  negroes  which  he  embodied  in 
regiments,  while  Greene  could  not  mus 
ter  in  all  more  than  eight  hundred,  but 
the  fears  of  the  fugitives  had  magnified 
nis  force  to  more  than  three  thousand. 


Thus  driven  in  from  all  their  outposts, 
the  British  were  confined  in  their  opera 
tions  to  the  city,  the  neck,  and  the  neigh 
boring  islands.  The  object  of  General 
Greene,  and  all  that  he  could  effect,  in  the 
feeble  condition  of  his  army,  was  attained; 
and  in  January,  after  an  interreg 
num  of  nearly  two  years,  Governor 
Rutledge  convened  the  legislature  of  the 
state  at  Jacksonborough,  a  little  village 
on  the  Edisto  river,  about  twenty  miles 
from  the  sea,  and  thirty  from  Charleston. 
The  army,  in  the  meantime,  took  post  at 
the  plantation  of  Colonel  Skirving,  some 
six  miles  below  Jacksonborough,  and  on 
the  road  leading  to  the  city. 

But  few  military  movements  occurred 
during  the  season.  A  vain  attempt  was 
made  to  dislodge  the  British  from  John's 
island.  In  a  skirmish  on  the  Combahee, 

the  brave  Colonel  John  Laurens 

,.  n      TJ  T    -,   .      .,       Aug.  27. 

fell.     He  was  succeeded  in  the 

command  of  the  light-troops  near  Charles 
ton  by  Kosciusko.*  General  Wayne  had 
been  sent  into  Georgia,  where  he  forced 
the  British  to  abandon  their  outposts,  and 

*  After  the  American  war,  this  illustrious  Pole  returned 
to  his  native  country,  where  he  lived  in  retirement  till  17S9, 
when  the  diet  appointed  him.  a  major-general.  In  the  brief 
struggle  of  1792  he  behaved  with  distinguished  valor;  hut 
as  soon  as  the  fate  of  Poland  was  scaled,  he  retired  into  vol 
untary  exile.  lie  kept  up,  however,  a  correspondence  with 
the  friends  of  liberty  in  his  native  land;  and  when,  ir.  1794, 
the  Poles  resolved  to  make  one  more  effort  to  break  their 
chains,  they  placed  Kosciusko  at  their  head.  He  began  his 
career  by  defeating  the  Russian  general,  Denisoff,  at  liashi- 
vice.  But  the  enemy  poured  in  on  all  sides,  and  at  length, 
after  having  for  six  months  delayed  the  fall  of  Poland,  he 
was  wounded  and  taken  prisoner,  on  the  4th  of  October,  at 
the  battle  of  Macciowiee.  He  was  sent  to  St.  Petersburg, 
and  incarcerated  until  the  accession  of  the  emperor  Paul,  who 
visited  him  in  prison,  embraced  him,  and  set  him  at  liberty. 
His  latter  years  were  spent  in  America,  France,  and  Swit 
zerland,  but  chiefly  in  France.  He  died  at  Soleure,  in  Swit 
zerland,  October  17,  1817,  aged  seventy-one  years 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


EVACUATION  OF  CHARLESTON. 


895 


finally  to  evacuate  Savannah, the  garrison 
retiring  to  Charleston.  In  September,  Sir 
Samuel  Hood  arrived,  with  a  convoying 
fleet,  to  cover  the  departure  of  the  British. 

Meanwhile,  General  Leslie  pressed  his 
preparations  for  the  final  evacuation  of 
Charleston.  Greatly  constrained  by  the 
cordon  which  the  American  general  had 
contrived  to  maintain  around  his  foe,  Les 
lie,  in  order  to  eke  out  his  provisions,  suf 
fered  numerous  loyalists  to  leave  the  city 
and  make  their  peace  with  their  country 
men,  a  privilege  of  which  hundreds  readi 
ly  availed  themselves.  He  also  expelled 
from  the  town  all  those  who  were  alleged 
to  favor  the  American  cause. 

Having  levelled  the  walls  of  the  town 
and  of  Fort  Johnson,  the  British  command 
er  opened  a  communication  with  General 
Greene,  apprizing  him  of  the  intended 
evacuation,  and  proposing  terms,  in  order 
that  his  departure  might  be  a  peaceable 
one.  An  arrangement  accordingly  fol- 

o  o   «/ 

lowed,  by  which  the  Americans  wrere  to 
take  possession  as  the  enemy's  rear-guard 
retired  ;  the  former  pledging  themselves 
to  forbear  all  hostile  attempts  upon  the 
movements  of  the  British,  on  condition 
that  they  should  do  no  injury  to  the  city. 
On  Saturday,  the  14th  of  December, 
1782,  this  event  took  place.  The  morn 
ing  gun  was  the  signal  for  the  British  rear 
guard  to  abandon  its  advanced  redoubts. 
General  Wayne,  at  the  head  of  three  hun 
dred  infantry,  the  cavalry  of  the  legion, 
and  a  detachment  of  artillery,  with  two 
six-pounders,  having  been  sent  from  the 
American  army,  had  crossed  Ashley  river 
the  previous  night,  and  was  stationed  in 
readiness  to  follow  up  the  enemy. 


At  the  sound  of  the  morning  gun,  the 
two  parties  were  put  in  motion,  at  an  as 
signed  distance  asunder  of  two  hundred 
yards.  They  moved  down  the  King-street 
road,  till  they  had  passed  the  lines,  when 
the  British  filed  off  to  Gadsden's  wharf, 
where  they  embarked  in  boats  that  await 
ed  them.  "  It  was  a  grand  and  pleasing 
sight,"  says  General  Moultrie  in  his  me 
moirs,  "  to  see  the  enemy's  fleet,  upward 
of  three  hundred  sail,  lying  at  anchor  from 
Fort  Johnson  to  Five-Fathom  Hole,  in  a 
curve-line,  as  the  current  runs  ;  and  what 
made  it  more  agreeable,  they  were  ready 
to  depart." 

The  reluctance  of  the  one  party  to  leave, 
and  the  impatience  of  the  other  to  succeed 
them  in  the  possession  of  the  city,  led  the 
British,  now-and-then  during  the  march, 
to  cry  aloud  to  General  Wayne  that  he 
was  pressing  too  rapidly  upon  them  —  a 
proceeding  highly  characteristic  of  "Mad 
Anthony?  who  fully  sympathized  with  the 
natural  impatience  of  the  Carolinians  to 
behold  those  dear  homes  from  which  they 
had  been  so  long  exiled.*  Wayne  moved 
forward,  and  halted  on  the  south  side  of 
Broad  street,  nearly  opposite  to  Church. 
Next  to  the  American  advance  came  Gov 
ernor  Rutledge  and  General  Greene,  es 
corted  by  two  hundred  cavalry,  and  fol 
lowed  by  the  council  and  long  troops  of 
officers  and  citizens  on  horseback,  amid 
the  acclamations  of  the  populace."}* 

*  At  the  close  of  the  war,  General  Wayne  retired  to  his 
native  state  of  Pennsylvania.  In  1737,  he  was  a  member  of 
the  state  convention  which  ratified  the  constitution  of  the 
United  States.  In  1792,  he  succeeded  to  the  command  of 
the  western  army  on  the  defeat  of  St.  Clair,  and  gained  a 
comjlete  victory  over  the  savages  at  the  battle  of  the  Mi- 
anris,  in  1794.  He  died  iu  1796,  at  the  age  of  fifty -one. 

\  Simms. 


896 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


CHAPTER    CIV. 

Lord  Cornwallis  from  Portsmouth  to  YorUtown.- — Description  of  Yorktown. — Its  Defences. — Confidence  of  his  Lordship. 
A  Change. — Arrival  of  a  French  Fleet. — Skilful  Manoeuvres  of  Lafayette — Contemptuous  Indifference  of  Cornwal 
lis. Arrival  of  Count  de  Grasse. — Landing  of  Troops. — Junction  with  Lafayette. — Cornwallis  shut  up  by  Sea  and 

Land. A  Desperate  Expedient. — Hopeful  of  Aid. — Washington's  Plans. — Proposed  Attack  upon  New  York. — The 

Scheme  abandoned. — A  Ruse. — The  March  to  Virginia. — The  British  at  New  York  kept  in  the  Dark. — March  of  the 
Allies. — Entrance  into  Philadelphia. — Appearance  of  the  American  Troops. — The  "Gay  artel  Glorious"  French. — 
Admiration  of  the  Ladies. — A  Grand  Review. — The  French  Minister. — A  Public  Dinner. — Good  News. — "Long  live 
Louis  XVI.!" — The  Grumbling  Americans. — Out  of  Pocket. — A  Windfall. — Progress  of  the  March  southward. — 
Arrival  at  the  Head  of  the  Elk, — Washington  at  Mount  Vernon. — Old  Virginian  Hospitality. — Washington  at  Wil- 
liamsburg. — The  Allies  before  Yorktown. 


1781, 


LORD  CORNWALLIS  having,  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  instructions  of 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  again  landed  at  Ports 
mouth  the  detachment  of  troops  about  to 
sail  for  New  York,  moved  his  whole  force, 
consisting  of  about  seven  thousand  men, 

to  Yorktown.  This  small  place, 
Aug.  22,  ,L  4r  i  • 

situated  on  I  ork  river,  was  se 
lected  as  a  good  defensive  post,  and  one 
capable  of  affording  protection  to  ships- 
of-the-line.  Sir  Henry,  with  this  purpose 
in  view,  had  suggested  Yorktown,  or  Old 
Point  Comfort,  as  a  point  d'appui  for  the 
coming  campaign  in  Virginia.  By  the 
advice  of  his  naval  officers  and  engineers, 
the  earl  chose  the  former.  On  the  north 
and  opposite  side  of  the  river,  which  was 
a  mile  wide,  and  of  sufficient  depth  for 
large  vessels,  was  Gloucester  Point,  which, 
like  Yorktown,  had  a  high  and  command 
ing  position.  His  lordship  now  proceed 
ed  to  fortify  both  places  (at  the  former 
of  which  was  stationed  Colonel  Tarleton 
and  a  part  of  his  legion),  and  with  such 
satisfactory  progress,  that,  confident  of 
his  security,  he  soon  wrote  to  Sir  Henry 


Aug.  30. 


Clinton,  offering  to  send  a  detachment  of 
a  thousand  men  to  the  aid  of  New  York, 
then  threatened,  as  was  supposed,  by  an 
attack  from  Washington. 

Earl  Cornwallis  was, however, suddenly 
aroused  from  his  sense  of  security  by  the 
arrival  in  the  Chesapeake  of  Ad 
miral  Count  de  Grasse,  with  a 
French  fleet  of  twenty-eight  sail-of-the- 
line  and  several  frigates,  having  upward 
of  three  thousand  troops  on  board.  The 
young  marquis  Lafayette,  a  ware  of  Wash 
ington's  designs  against  the  enemy  in  Vir 
ginia,  and  prepared  by  early  intelligence 
for  this  arrival  of  his  countrymen,  had  in 
the  meantime  skilfully  manoeuvred  to  co 
operate  with  them.  His  object  was  to 
cut  off  the  escape  of  Cornwallis  by  land, 
while  the  French  fleet  should  close  up 
his  egress  by  sea. 

Lafayette  had  made  every  disposition 
of  his  force  necessary  to  his  purpose  with 
out  exciting  the  suspicion  of  Cornwallis, 
who,  intent  upon  his  fortifications,  regard 
ed  his  young  antagonist  almost  with  con 
teinptuous  indifference.  Having  sent  the 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


ARRIVAL  OF  COUNT  DE  GRASSE. 


897 


Pennsylvania  troops,  commanded  by  Gen 
eral  Wayne,  to  the  south  side  of  James 
river,  under  the  feint  of  attacking  Ports 
mouth,  and  collected  a  large  militia-force, 
the  marquis  himself  inarched  to  Williams- 
burg,  in  order  to  form  a  junction  with  the 
French  troops  as  soon  as  they  should  land. 

On  the  arrival  of  Count  de  Grasse,  he 
was  met  off  Cape  Henry  by  an  officer  de 
spatched  by  Lafayette  to  inform  him  of 
the  exact  state  of  affairs  in  Virginia.  De 
Grasse,  guided  by  this  information,  imme 
diately  sent  four  ships-of-the-line  to  block 
ade  York  river,  and  to  convey  the  land- 
troops  to  James  river,  where  Lafayette 
was  awaiting  them.  Nothing  occurred  to 
mar  these  designs  so  skilfully  laid.  Corn- 
wallis  found  himself  shut  up  by  sea,  and 
obstructed  on  land  by  the  combined  forces 
of  Lafayette  and  the  marquis  de  St.  Si 
mon,  who,  taking  post  at  Williamsburg, 
kept  close  watch  upon  his  lordship.  The 
earl  was  at  last  conscious  of  his  danger, 
and  would  have  striven  to  break  through 
the  toils  which  had  been  so  artfully  woven, 
and  to  force  his  way  into  North  Carolina, 
had  he  not  hoped  that  such  aid  would 
soon  reach  him  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
as  to  render  so  desperate  an  expedient 
unnecessary.  In  the  mean  time,  Washing 
ton,  in  his  camp  in  New  Jersey,  was  seal 
ing  the  fate  of  his  unconscious  lordship. 
Let  us  now  turn  to  the  North. 

When  intelligence  was  first  received  of 
the  intention  of  Count  de  Grasse  to  sail 
from  the  West  Indies  to  the  United  States 
with  his  powerful  fleet,  Count  de  Rocham- 
beau,  who  had  also  received  despatches 
from  the  French  court,  requested  a  per 
sonal  interview  with  Washington,  to  con- 
113 


May  18, 


cert  a  plan  of  action  for  the  approaching 
campaign.  The  latter  suggested  Weath- 
ersfield,  in  Connecticut,  as  the  place  of 
meeting,  and  the  22d  of  May  as  the  time 
Accordingly,  the  commander-in-chief  set 
out  from  headquarters,  at  New 
Windsor,  accompanied  by  Gen 
erals  Knox  and  Du  Portail,  and  met  Ro- 
chambeau  and  the  marquis  de  Chastellux 
at  the  time  agreed  upon.  A  French  frig 
ate  had  recently  arrived  at  Boston,  hav 
ing  on  board  the  count  de  Barras,  who 
was  appointed  to  succeed  the  deceased 
Admiral  de  Ternay  in  the  command  of 
the  French  fleet  at  Newport,  and  he  was 
expected  to  join  the  conference  at  Weath- 
ersfielcl,  but  the  appearance  of  a  British 
squadron  off  Block  island  prevented  his 
attendance. 

At  that  interview,  the  respective  com 
manders,  being  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  in 
vasion  of  Virginia  by  Lord  Cornwallis, 
discussed  the  propriety  of  a  joint  expe 
dition  to  the  Carolinas.  The  difficulties 
of  such  an  expedition,  at  that  time  of  the 
year,  when  the  sickly  season  was  about 
to  set  in  at  the  South,  were  fully  consid 
ered,  and  it  was  agreed  that  an  effective 
blow  might  be  made  by  the  combined  ar 
mies  for  the  recovery  of  the  city  of  New 
York,  which  would  at  the  same  time  re 
lieve  the  southern  states.  It  was  finally 
determined,  as  a  preliminary  step  toward 
opening  the  campaign,  that  the  entire 
land-force  of  the  French  (whose  infantry 
had  remained  in  repose  at  Newport  for 
nine  months),  with  the  exception  of  about 
two  hundred,  who  were  to  be  left  as  a 
guard  over  their  heavy  baggage  at  Provi 
dence,  should  march  with  all  despatch  to 


i, 


898 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPART  n. 


join  Washington's  army  at  the  Highlands 
of  the  Hudson,  and  at  a  proper  time  the 
united  force  was  to  move  toward  New 
York. 

The  commander-in-chief  at  once  sent 
letters  to  Governor  Livingston,  of  New- 
Jersey,  and  the  executive  authorities  of 
New  England,  urging  them  to  provide 
immediately  the  quotas  of  men  and  sup 
plies  which  had  been  voted  by  their  re 
spective  states.  General  Rochambeau,  in 
the  meanwhile,  despatched  a  messenger 
to  the  West  Indies,  to  inform  the  count 
de  Grasse  of  the  proposed  attack  upon 
New  York,  and  to  solicit  the  co-operation 
of  his  fleet. 

Toward  the  close  of  June,  while  the 
French  troops  were  moving  through  the 
western  part  of  Connecticut,  on  their  way 
to  the  Hudson,  Washington  made  strong 
preparations  to  oppose  the  British  on  York 
island  and  in  Westchester  county.  He 
planned  a  joint  expedition  against  Colo 
nel  Delancey's  corps  of  loyalists  stationed 
at  Morrisania,  and  the  military  works  on 
the  upper  end  of  the  island.  The  duke 
de  Lauzun,  with  his  fine  cavalry-legion, 
was  to  conduct  the  former;  and  General 
Lincoln,  with  detachments  from  the  main 
army,  had  charge  of  the  latter.  But  the 
enemy  were  on  the  alert. 

Lincoln,  with  a  force  of  eight  hundred 
men,  went  down  from  the  camp 
at  Peekskill,  in  boats  propelled 
by  muffled  oars.  At  the  same  time,  leav 
ing  his  baggage,  Washington  followed  on 
land  with  the  main  army,  and  encamped 
at  Phillipsburg,  near  Dobbs's  ferry,  nearly 
twelve  miles  from  the  north  end 


July  1, 


July  4, 


of  York  island.     Lincoln,  accom 


panied  by  one  or  two  officers,  crossed  to 
Fort  Lee,  on  the  western  bank  of  the 
Hudson,  to  reconnoitre  Fort  Washington 
from  the  cliffs  of  the  Palisades,  when  he 
discovered  a  British  encampment  on  the 
upper  end  of  the  island,  and  a  vessel-of- 
war  lying  in  the  river,  off  Spuyten-devil 
creek.  He  at  once  saw  that  a  surprisal 
of  the  enemy's  forts  was  impossible  ;  and, 
accordingly,  landing  his  troops,  he  took 
possession  of  the  high  grounds  lying  to 
the  northeast  of  Harlem  river,  with  the 
intention  of  offering  aid  to  the  duke  de 
Lauzun. 

In  this  position,  Lincoln  was  attacked 
by  a  fo raging-party,  numbering  about  fif 
teen  hundred  men.  A  desultory  skirmish 
followed  ;  and  De  Lauzun,  who  had  just 
arrived  at  Eastchester,  hearing  the  sound 
of  cannon,  hastened  forward  to  meet  his 
American  ally.  Washington  likewise  ad 
vanced,  and  the  British,  believing  that 
the  whole  force  of  the  Americans  was  ap 
proaching,  fled  to  their  boats,  and  retired 
in  haste  to  their  camp.  The  surprise  of 
Delancey's  corps  being  regarded 
as  improbable,  Washington  with 
drew  to  Dobbs's  ferry,  at  which  place  he 
was  joined  by  General  Rochambeau. 

The  American  and  French  forces  now 
encamped  among  the  verdant  and  beau 
tiful  hills  of  Greenburg,  near  Tarrytown, 
about  thirty  miles  from  New  York.  The 
former,  who  lay  in  two  lines,  had  their 
right  resting  on  Dobbs's  ferry,  and  ex 
tending  eastward  toward  the  Neparan  or 
Sawmill  river ;  and  the  latter  encamped 
in  a  single  line  upon  the  hills  still  farther 
to  the  east,  with  their  left  resting  on  the 
river  Bronx.  In  this  position  they  re- 


July  0. 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  ALLIES  NEAR  NEW  YORK. 


mained  upward  of  three  weeks,  without 
making  any  movement  of  importance. 

In  the  meantime,  the  invasion  of  Vir 
ginia  by  Lord  Cornwallis  had  caused  great 
alarm  throughout  that  and  the  adjoining 
states  ;  and  the  American  chief  received 
urgent  letters,  earnestly  imploring  him  to 
advance  southward  with  a  powerful  force, 
and  expel  the  earl  and  his  followers.  The 
time  for  such  an  expedition,  however,  had 
not  yet  come. 

Washington,  accompanied  by  Rocham- 
beau  and  other  French  officers,  now  pro 
ceeded  to  the  summit  of  the  Pali- 
July  18, 

sades,  for  the  purpose  or  recon 
noitring  the  British  posts  on  the  north 
end  of  York  island.  On  the  following 
day,  they  took  a  view  of  those  at  Kings- 
bridge  ;  and  it  was  resolved  that  a  force 
of  five  thousand  Americans  and  French, 
commanded  by  Generals  Lincoln  and  De 
Chastellux,  should  occupy  a  line  across 
the  entire  county  of  Westchester  from  the 
Hudson  to  the  East  river, in  order  to  cover 
an  extended  reconnoissance,  break  up  the 
haunts  of  the  tories,  and  confine  Colonel 
Delancey's  corps  of  marauders  within  the 
British  lines. 

This  important  movement  was  begun 
with  great  secresy  on  the  evening  of  the 
21>st,  the  three  separate  columns  moving 
simultaneously  toward  York  island,  while 
detachments  of  infantry  scoured  the  fields 
between  the  lines  of  march.  Before  day 
break  the  entire  force  confront- 
Jtily  22. 

ed  the  British  on  the  upper  end 

of  the  island.  The  flashing  of  the  arms 
of  the  allies  in  the  beams  of  the  morning 
sun  was  the  first  intimation  which  the 
enemy  had  of  the  movement. 


While  the  British  were  held  in  check 
by  this  strong  force,  Washington  and  Ro- 
chambeau,  with  their  respective  attend 
ants,  effected  a  complete  reconnoissance 
from  the  Hudson  to  Long-island  sound  ; 
and  in  the  meantime  the  American  light- 
troops,  and  De  Lauzun's  lancers,  broke  up 
every  post  of  the  loyalists  and  refugees. 
Having  made  a  thorough  and  scientific 
reconnoissance  of  the  whole  ground,  the 
allied  troops  returned  to  their  respective 
encampments  among  the  Greenburg  hills 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  became  alarmed  at 
this  movement,  and  despatched  a  message 
to  Lord  Cornwallis, directing  him  to  order 
three  of  the  regiments  in  South  Carolina 
to  sail  immediately  for  New  York,  and  to 
hold  a  portion  of  his  own  troops  in  readi 
ness  for  the  same  destination.  On  hear 
ing  of  this  requisition,  Washington  made 

the  following  comment  in  a  let- 

Julv  30, 

ter  to  Lafayette:  "I  think  we 

have  already  effected  one  part  of  the  plan 
of  the  campaign  settled  at  Weathersfield  ; 
that  is,  giving  a  substantial  relief  to  the 
southern  states,  by  obliging  the  enemy  to 
recall  a  considerable  part  of  their  forces 
from  thence." 

With  great  anxiety,  and  some  degree 
of  impatience,  the  commander -in -chief 
had  waited  for  the  recruits  and  supplies 
which  had  been  voted  by  several  of  the 
state  legislatures ;  and  again  he 
addressed  a  circular  letter  to  the 
governments  of  the  New-England  states, 
imploring  them  in  the  most  urgent  man 
ner  to  be  prompt  and  generous  in  send 
ing  on  the  required  aid,  for  without  it  the 
enemy  must  triumph,  and  the  allies  be 
come  disappointed  and  disgusted.  "It 


August  2, 


900 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATiT    II. 


Avill  be  no  small  degree  of  triumph  to  our 
enemies,"  added  Washington,  "  and  will 
have  a  very  pernicious  influence  upon  our 
friends  in  Europe,  should  they  find  such 
a  failure  of  resource,  or  such  a  want  of 
energy  to  draw  it  out,  that  our  boasted 
and  expensive  preparation  end  only  in 
idle  parade." 

About  this  time,  intelligence  was  re 
ceived  from  Lafayette  that  "  thirty  trans 
port-ships,  full  of  troops,  most  of  them 
red-coats,  and  eight  or  ten  brigs  with  cav 
alry  on  board,"  had  arrived  in  Hampton 
roads.  A  despatch  was  also  received  from 
Admiral  Count  de  Grasse,  stating  that  he 
expected  to  sail  from  St.  Domingo  on  the 
3d  of  August,  with  nearly  thirty  ships-of- 
the-line  and  a  considerable  land-force,  di 
rectly  for  Chesapeake  bay,  and  that  his 
stay  must  be  short. 

On  receiving  this  information,  Wash 
ington  changed  his  plans.  The  scheme 
against  New  York  was  abandoned,  as  be 
ing  too  perilous  without  the  aid  of  the 
expected  French  fleet  and  troops.  Be 
sides  this,  early  in  the  month, 
Augusts,  '  J  ' 

feir  Henry  Clinton  had  received 

a  reinforcement  of  nearly  three  thousand 
troops,  British  and  Hessians.  Strength 
ened  by  this  arrival,  the  baronet,  as  we 
have  seen,  countermanded  his  orders  for 
Lord  Cornwallis  to  send  a  portion  of  the 
southern  troops  northward,  as  he  deemed 
his  own  force  amply  sufficient  for  the  de 
fence  of  New  York. 

It  was  therefore  resolved  by  Washing 
ton  and  Rochambeau  to  concur  with  the 
plans  of  De  Grasse,  and,  proceeding  with 
the  allied  armies  southward,  strike  a  blow 
against  the  British  in  Virginia.  Robert 


Aug.  !7, 


Morris,  the  great  financier,  and  Richard 
Peters,  the  active  secretary  of  war,  were 
at  headquarters  at  the  time.  Af 
ter  informing  them  of  his  reso 
lution,  Washington  turned  to  Peters,  and 
asked,  "  What  can  you  do  for  me  in  aid 
of  this  expedition  ?  I  may  want,"  he  add 
ed,  "a  month's  pay  in  advance  for  some 
of  the  troops." — "  With  money,  everything  — 
without  it,  nothing"  quickly  replied  Peters, 
at  the  same  time  casting  a  significant 
glance  at  Robert  Morris.  The  financier 
comprehended  the  meaning  of  that  look, 
and  said,  "Let  me  know  the  sum  you 
desire."  Washington  soon  completed  his 
estimates ;  and  when  the  troops  passed 
through  Philadelphia,  not  long  afterward, 
Morris,  upon  his  own  responsibility,  bor 
rowed  twenty  thousand  dollars  in  specie 
from  Rochambeau, promising  to  replace  it 
by  the  first  of  October.  With  assurance 
of  aid,  the  commander-in-chief  prepared 
immediately  for  the  southward  march.::: 
This  change  of  purpose  was,  however, 
carefully  concealed  from  the  enemy;  and. 
to  keep  up  the  idea  that  New  York  was 
still  his  object,  Washington  wrote  mislead 
ing  letters,  which  he  intended  should  be 
intercepted  ;  had  ovens  built,  fuel  collect 
ed,  and  a  large  encampment  marked  out 
for  his  army  in  New  Jersey,  near  Amboy, 
and  opposite  to  Staten  island.  In  the 
meantime,  the  allied  armies,  having  com 
pleted  their  preparations  to  move  to  Vir 
ginia,  began  their  inarch.  The 
pretence  of  an  attack  upon  New 
York  was  kept  up  to  the  last  moment. 
Reconnoitring  and  pioneer  parties  were 
sent  forward  to  examine  and  clear  the 

*  Lossintr. 


luff,  19, 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  ALLIED  TROOPS  IN  PHILADEPHIA. 


901 


roads  from  the  encampment  at  the  Green- 
burg  hills  toward  Kingsbridge  ;  and  when 
the  troops  were  paraded  for  the  march, 
they  faced  in  that  direction.  They  were, 
however,  much  to  the  surprise  and  per 
plexity  of  their  own  officers,  who  were  in 
ignorance  of  the  chief's  designs,  imrnedi- 

o  O          * 

ately  ordered  to  the  right  about,  and  pro 
ceeded  up  the  Hudson  to  King's  ferry  at 
Verplanck's  Point,  where  they  crossed  to 
New  Jersey. 

The  secret  of  Washington's  design  was 
kept  as  strictly  from  his  own  army  as 
from  the  enemy.  "  Our  destination,"  as 
Timelier  records,  "  has  been  for  some  time 
matter  of  perplexing  doubt  and  uncer 
tainty.  Bets  have  run  high,  on  one  side, 
that  we  were  to  occupy  the  ground  mark 
ed  out  on  the  Jersey  shore,  to  aid  in  the 
siege  of  New  York;  and,  on  the  other, 
that  we  are  stealing  a  march  on  the  ene 
my,  and  are  actually  destined  to  Virginia, 
in  pursuit  of  the  army  under  Lord  Corn- 
wallis."  Seven  years  later,  Washington 
wrote  a  letter  to  Noah  Webster,  in  which, 
after  admitting  the  finesse  employed  to 
"misguide  and  bewilder  Sir  Henry,"  he 
added,  "Nor  were  less  pains  taken  to  de 
ceive  our  own  army,  for  I  had  always  con 
ceived  when  the  imposition  does  not  com 
pletely  take  place  at  home,  it  would  never 
sufficiently  succeed  abroad." 

Leaving  General  Heath  in  command 
of  a  sufficient  guard  for  the  posts  in  the 
Highlands,  the  allied  armies  began  their 
movement  across  New  Jersey,  under  the 
general  charge  of  Lincoln,  the  American 
troops  marching  one  day  in  ad 
vance  of  the  French.  They  pro 
ceeded  by  different  routes,  and  were  far 


Au.ff,  25. 


Sept,  3, 


on  their  way  in  rapid  march  toward  the 
Delaware  before  Sir  Henry  Clinton  sus 
pected  their  destination  to  be  other  than 
Staten  island  and  New  York. 

On  the  seventh  day  after  leaving  the 
Hudson,  the  Americans  crossed  the  Dela 
ware,  and  entered  Philadelphia,  followed 
on  the  next  day  by  the  French. 

"The  streets  being  extremely 
dirty,"  says  Timelier,  "  and  the  weather 
warm  and  dry,  we  raised  a  dust  like  a 
smothering  snowstorm,  blinding  our  eyes 
and  covering  our  bodies  with  it.  This 
was  not  a  little  mortifying,  as  the  ladies 
were  viewing  us  from  the  open  windows 
of  every  house  as  we  passed  through  this 
splendid  city —  Our  line  of  march,  inclu 
ding  appendages  and  attendants,  extend 
ed  nearly  two  miles.  The  general  officers 
and  their  aids,  in  rich  military  uniform; 
mounted  on  noble  steeds  elegantly  capari 
soned,  were  followed  by  their  servants 
and  baggage.  In  the  rear  of  every  bri 
gade  were  several  fieldpieces,  accompa 
nied  by  ammunition-carriages.  The  sol 
diers  marched  with  slow  and  solemn  step, 
regulated  by  the  drum  and  fife.  In  the 
rear  followed  a  great  number  of  wagons, 
loaded  with  tents,  provisions,  and  other 
baggage,  such  as  a  few  soldiers'  wives  and 
children  ;  though  a  very  small  number  of 
these  are  allowed  to  encumber  us  on  this 
occasion." 

The  entry  of  the  French  troops  was 
characteristically  gay  and  glorious.  Hav 
ing  halted  a  short  distance  from  the  city, 
in  order  to  furbish  up  their  uniforms  "of 
white  broadcloth,  faced  with  green"  (the 
colors  of  the  old  house  of  Bourbon),  they 
marched  in,  with  a  full  band  of  music  pre- 


902 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


Sept,  4, 


coding  them,  to  the  manifest  admiration 
of  the  people  who  crowded  the  streets, 
and  of  the  ladies  who  "appeared  at  the 
windows  in  their  most  brilliant  attire." 

A  grand  review  took  place  on 
the  following  day,  when  "  at  least 
twenty  thousand  persons,  and  a  vast  num 
ber  of  carriages,  remarkable  for  their  light 
ness  and  elegance,  added  to  the  lustre  of 
this  exhibition  —  which  was  still  height 
ened,"  adds  the  ardent  Frenchman*  who 
describes  the  scene,  "  by  the  pleasantness 
of  the  situation  and  the  remarkable  se 
renity  of  the  day." 

The  day  "was  destined  for  favorable 
omens,"  continues  the  same  warm  color- 
ist.  "  M.  le  chevalier  de  la  Luzerne,  who 
on  this  occasion  received  his  countrymen 
with  the  dignity  and  generosity  of  the 
representative  of  a  great  monarch,  and 
the  frankness  and  cordiality  of  an  indi 
vidual,  after  the  review  invited  all  the 
officers  to  dine  with  him.  Hardly  were 
we  seated  at  the  table,  when,  an  express 
arrived.  A  disquieting  silence  immedi 
ately  seized  every  guest ;  our  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  chevalier  de  la  Luzerne,  ev 
ery  one  endeavoring  to  guess  what  the 
message  would  turn  out  to  be.  '  Thirty- 
six  ships-of-the-line,'  said  he, '  commanded 
by  Monsieur  le  comte  de  Grasse,  are  ar 
rived  in  Chesapeake  bay,  and  three  thou 
sand  men  have  landed,  and  opened  a  com 
munication  with  the  marquis  de  Lafay 
ette.'  Joy  and  good  humor  immediately 
resumed  their  place  on  every  counte 
nance."  The  news  soon  spread  through 
out  the  city,  and  the  people  hurried  in 
crowds  to  the  residence  of  the  minister 

*  Quoted  ')v  Thacher. 


of  France,  shouting,  "Long  live  Louis 
XVI. !" 

The  American  army,  however,  did  not 
share  fully  in  this  gay  enthusiasm.  The 
New-England  troops  grumbled  at  being 
marched  at  such  a  distance  to  the  South 
while  their  pay  was  in  arrears.  As  be 
fore  related,  a  loan  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars  was  obtained  from  Rochambeau's 
military  chest,  on  a  promise  of  repayment 
on  the  first  of  October,  which  gave  tem 
porary  relief.  Fortunately,  at  this  mo 
ment,  Colonel  John  Laurens,  who  had 
been  sent  to  France  as  American  agent 
to  solicit  a  loan,  returned  with  abundant 
supplies  and  half  a  million  of  dollars  in 
specie.  Moreover,  he  brought  intelligence 
of  a  successful  negotiation  with  France 
and  Holland  for  a  large  sum  in  addition. 
The  zeal  and  ability  with  which  the  ne 
gotiation  was  conducted  by  the  American 
envoy  deserve  more  than  a  passing  allu 
sion. 

Colonel  John  Laurens,  a  son  of  Henry 
Laurens  (ex-president  of  Congress,  who 
was  long  confined  in  the  Tower  of  Lon 
don),  was  made  a  prisoner  on  the  surren 
der  of  Charleston  to  the  British,  and  re 
leased  on  parole.  He  arrived  in  Paris  in 
the  spring  of  1781,  and  immediately  en 
tered  upon  the  duties  of  his  mission  with 
all  the  ardor  of  his  nature.  He  soon  be 
came  impatient  of  the  delays  which  he 
experienced  on  the  part  of  the  French 
ministry.  In  earnestly  pressing  his  suit 
one  day  with  Count  de  Vergenues,  that 
adroit  diplomat  reminded  him  that  per 
haps  he  had  forgotten  that  he  was  not  de 
livering  the  orders  of  his  commander-in- 
chief,  but  addressing  the  minister  of  a 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


WASHINGTON  VISITS  MOUNT  VERNON. 


903 


monarch  who  had  every  disposition  to  fa 
vor  his  country.  Laurens  withdrew  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  room,  and  replied 
with  emphasis  :  "  Favor,  sir  !  The  respect 
which  I  owe  to  my  country  will  not  ad 
mit  the  term.  Say  that  the  obligation  is 
mutual,  and  I  cheerfully  subscribe  to  the 
obligation.  But,  as  the  last  argument  I 
shall  offer  to  your  excellency,  the  sword 
which  I  now  wear  in  defence  of  France, 
as  wrell  as  of  my  own  country,  unless  the 
succor  I  solicit  is  immediately  accorded, 
I  may  be  compelled  within  a  short  time  to  draw 
against  France,  as  a  British  subject !  I  must 
now  inform  your  excellency  that  my  next 
memorial  will  be  presented  to  his  majesty 
in  person."  This  bold  reply  had  a  great 
effect  upon  Vergennes,  for  the  reconcilia 
tion  of  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States 
was  an  event  he  most  dreaded.  True  to 
his  promise,  Laurens  attended  at  the  au 
dience-chamber  of  the  king  the  next  day, 
and  presented  his  memorial  in  person  to 
his  majesty.  It  was  handed  to  Count  Se- 
gur,  and  on  the  following  day  Laurens 
was  officially  informed  that  the  required 
aid  should  be  given.  That  succor,  as  we 
have  seen,  now  came  to  hand  at  a  most 
important  crisis,  and  in  two  short  months, 
by  the  aid  of  French  funds,  and  French 
soldiers  arid  seamen,  Lord  Cornwallis  was 
to  be  captured,  and  the  death-blow  given 
to  British  power  in  America.* 

While  in  Philadelphia,  Washington  re 
ceived  despatches  from  Lafayette,  in  form 
ing  him  of  the  destination  of  Cornwallis's 

o 

flotilla  seen  in  Hampton  roads,  with  the 
assurance  that  he  should  make  every  ex 
ertion  to  prevent  the  earl  from  moving 


Sept,  5, 


Sept,  6, 


into  the  interior.  The  French  minister 
had  as  yet  received  no  intelligence  of  the 
count  de  Grasse,  and  Washington  in  con 
sequence  felt  much  anxiety.  Yet  he  did 
not  hesitate  to  advance.  Both 
armies  left  Philadelphia  in  the 
morning,  for  the  Head  of  Elk.  Toward 
evening  Washington  was  met  by  a  cou 
rier,  bringing  the  glad  tidings  that  the 

o         O  O  O 

French  admiral  with  his  great  armament 
had  arrived  in  the  Chesapeake.  The  mes 
senger  reached  the  chevalier  de  Luzerne, 
at  Philadelphia  the  same  evening,  as  be 
fore  related,  while  his  guests  were  at  the 
banquet-table. 

The  commander-in-chief  arrived  at  the 
Head  of  Elk  (the  narrow,  upper  end  of 
Chesapeake  bay,  which  is  called 
Elk  river)  in  the  evening,  with 
the  intention  of  embarking  the  troops,  ord 
nance,  and  stores,  at  that  point,  and  send 
ing  them  down  the  bay.  There  was  a 
great  lack  of  transports  for  the  purpose, 
and  the  troops  were  therefore  brought  to 
a  halt.  While  the  armies  were  thus  de 
layed,  Washington  improved  the  oppor 
tunity  of  making  a  flying  visit  to  Mount 
Vernon.  Accordingly,  attended  by  Ro- 
chambeau,  he  rode  to  Baltimore, 
where  the  two  chiefs  were  greet 
ed  with  a  public  address,  and  honored  by 
bonfires  and  illuminations  in  the  evening. 

Early  the  next  morning,  Washington 
set  out  for  Mount  Vernon  with  a  single 
aid-de-camp  (Colonel  Humphreys),  with 
the  determination  of  reaching  his  home 
that  night,  for  upward  of  six  years  had 
passed  since  he  had  been  beneath  its  roof 
"The  journey  was  accomplished,"  writes 
Lossing,  "  and  great  was  the  joy  at  Mount 


004 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Yernon  when  the  news  spread  over  the 
estate  that  the  master  had  come  home. 
The  servants  flocked  in  from  the  fields 
to  see  him,  and  among  them  came  Bish 
op,  the  venerable  body-servant,  who  had 
lived  with  Washington  since  the  bloody 
battle  of  the  Monongahela,  twenty-six 
years  before,  but  who  was  now,  at  the  age 
of  almost  fourscore  years,  too  decrcpid  to 
follow  his  master  to  the  field." 

"It  was  a  late  hour,"  says  Ir 
ving,  "  when  Washington  arrived 
at  Mount  Yernon ;  where  he  was  joined 
by  his  suite  at  dinner-time  on  the  follow- 


Scpt.  9, 


ing  day,  and  by  the  count  de  Rochambeau 
in  the  evening.  General  Chastellux  and 
his  aids-de-camp  arrived  there  on  the  llth, 
and  Mount  Yernon  was  now  crowded  with 
guests,  who  were  all  entertained  in  the 
ample  style  of  old  Yirginia.ii  hospitality. 
On  the  12th,  tearing  himself  away  once 
more  from  the  home  of  his  heart,  Wash 
ington  with  his  military  associates  contin 
ued  onward  to  join  Lafaj^ette  at  Williams- 
burg."  On  this  occasion  he  was  attend 
ed  by  Mrs.  Washington's  son.  John  Parke 
Custis,  who  now  for  the  first  time  went 
to  the  field,  as  one  of  the  chief's  aids. 


CHAPTER    CY. 

Hoodwinking  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Aroused  too  late. — Fair  Promises. — Arrival  of  Sir  Samuel  Hood. — A  British  Fleet. 
— Arrival  off  the  Capes  of  Virginia. — Sight  of  the  French  Ships. — Eagerness  of  the  Count  do  Grasse.— Admiral  Graves 
gives  Battle. — Manoeuvring. — Do  Grasse  returns  to  the  Chesapeake,  and  Graves  to  New  York.— Inversion  by  Sir  Henry 
Clinton. — Expedition  against  New  London,  in  Connecticut. — General  Arnold  in  Command. — Fort  Griswold. — Colonel 
Ledyurd.— Spirited  but  Vain  Resistance. — Fall  of  the  Fort. — No  Mercy. — Massacre. — Murder  of  Ledyard. — Losses. 
—New  London  in  Ashes. — Last  Act  of  Arnold. — His  Departure  for  England. — Impatience  of  De  Grasse. — Magna 
nimity  of  Lafayette. — Arrival  of  Washington. — The  Villc  de  Paris. — Meeting  of  the  Allied  Commanders. — Arrival  of 
the  Combined  Troops  at  Williamsburg. — Their  Orderly  March. — A  New  and  Threatening  Danger. — De  Grasse  is  in 
duced  to  remain. — The  Siege  of  Yorktown  commenced. 


1781. 


WASHINGTON,  by  his  skilful  ma 
noeuvring,  had  succeeded  in  so  com 
pletely  hoodwinking  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
that  the  combined  armies,  as  previously 
shown,  had  proceeded  on  their  march  as 
far  as  the  Delaware  before  he  was  per 
suaded  that  Earl  Cornwall!*  at  Yorktown 
was  their  object.  Sir  Henry,  in  fact,  had 
been  so  impressed  with  the  delusion  that 
an  attack  upon  New  York  was  intended, 
that  even  after  Washington  and  Rocham- 
beau  had  crossed  the  Hudson  into  New 


Jersey,  he  believed  that  this  move  was 
only  a  feint  to  divert  him  from  their  real 
purpose.  When  he  was  fairly  conscious 
of  the  truth,  it  was  too  late  for  him  to 
send  the  desired  assistance  to  Cornwallis, 
although  at  the  last  moment  he  wrote  to 
his  lordship,  declaring  that  he  would  do 
his  utmost  for  his  relief. 

A  prospect  of  aid  was,  however,  pre 
sented  by  the  arrival  of  Sir  Samuel  Hood 
at  New  York  from  the  West  Indies,  with 
fourteen  ships-of-the-line.  Hood  was  now 


REVOLUTIONARY.]     GRAVES  AND  DE  GRASSE.— ARNOLD  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


905 


joined  by  five  ships  then  lying  in  the  har 
bor,  under  Admiral  Graves, who, being  the 
senior  officer,  assumed  the  general  com 
mand,  and  bore  away  without 
delay,  with  the  intention  of  first 
intercepting  the  count  de  Barras,  with 
the  French  squadron  from  Newport,  and 
then  attacking  Admiral  de  Grasse,  in  the 
Chesapeake.  As  Graves  sailed  down  the 
southern  coast,  he  first  looked  into  the 
Delaware,  but,  finding  no  enemy  there, 
continued  his  course  to  the  capes  of  Vir 
ginia,  where  he  discovered  the  French 
fleet,  lying  just  within  Lynn-Haven  bay. 
Count  de  Grasse,  slipping  and  even  cut 
ting  his  cables,  in  his  eagerness,  came  out 
at  once  ;  and  when  his  fleet  of  twenty-four 
ships  showed  itself,  Graves,  who  had  only 
nineteen  vessels  to  oppose  him,  and  knew 
that  De  Barras  could  not  be  far  off  with 
the  h  wport  squadron,  became  nervously 
anxiov  s.  The  English  admiral,  however, 
gave  the  signal  for  battle,  and  his  ships 
stretched  in  ;  but  when  his  rear  was  near 
ly  even  with  the  enemy's  van,  he  made 
the  signal  for  the  whole  fleet  to  wear,  by 
which  he  got  upon  the  same  tack  with 
his  antagonist,  and  to  windward  almost 
parallel  with  him.  The  two  fleets  now 
steered  to  the  eastward,  and,  as  they  got 
clear  of  the  capes  of  Virginia,  Graves  bore 
down  upon  De  Grasse.  At  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  ac 
tion  commenced,  but  did  not  become  gen 
eral,  as  only  a  few7  of  the  vessels  were  en 
gaged,  and  at  night  the  fleets  separated. 
The  French,  whose  advance-ships  had  suf 
fered  considerably,  bore  away  to  get  in  a 
line  with  their  centre.  Graves  kept  the 
weather-gage  during  the  night;  but,  as 
114 


Sept,  5, 


some  of  his  ships  had  been  severely  dam 
aged,  he  was  obliged  to  lay  to  for  repairs. 
The  Terrible,  of  seventy-four  guns,  leaked 
so  badly,  that  in  a  day  or  two  after  she 
was  abandoned  and  burnt.  It  was  also 
with  great  difficulty  that  the  Ajax  was 
kept  afloat,  as  she  made  water  rapidly. 

The  two  fleets  remained  at  sea  for  five 
days,  without  renewing  the  action,  when 
De  Grasse  again  bore  away  for  the  Ches 
apeake,  taking  two  English  frigates  on  his 
return,  and  having  the  satisfaction  on  ar 
riving  at  his  old  anchorage  to  find  Count 
de  Barras  safely  moored  there  with  his 
Newport  squadron  of  seven  ships-of-the- 
line  and  fourteen  transports,  laden  with 
artillery  and  stores.  Graves  looked  into 
the  bay,  and,  seeing  the  increased  strength 
of  his  enemy,  returned  with  his  crippled 
fleet  to  New  York,  for  he  feared  the  equi 
noctial  gales,  that  might  be  daily  expect 
ed,  more  than  the  guns  of  his  powerful 
adversary.  In  this  action,  the  loss  of  the 
French  was  two  hundred  and  twenty  men, 
and  that  of  the  English  three  hundred 
and  thirty. 

When  Sir  Henry  Clinton  discovered  the 
real  intentions  of  Washington,  he  strove 
to  divert  him  from  his  purpose  by  an  at 
tack  upon  New  London,  in  Connecticut. 
Two  British  regiments,  a  battalion  of  loy 
alist  volunteers  from  New  Jersey,  and  a 
detachment  of  Hessian  riflemen  (yagers), 
numbering  about  twenty-three  hundred 
in  all,  were  embarked  at  New  York  for 
the  service  ;  and  the  command  of  this  ma 
rauding  expedition  against  the  state  which 
had  given  him  birth  was  intrusted  to  the 
arch-traitor,  Benedict  Arnold,  as  being  an 
enterprise  not  only  suited  to  his  military 


906 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


genius,  but  also  to  the  malevolence  of  his 
heart. 

Arnold  accordingly  sailed  up  the  river 
Thames,  and  appeared  off  New  London, 
only  fourteen  miles  south  of  Norwich,  the 
birthplace  of  the  traitor.  Here,  dividing 
his  forces,  he  debarked  one  division,  un 
der  Lieutenant-Colonel  Eyre,  to 
Sept§  6§  attack  Fort  Griswold,  on  the  east 
side  of  the  harbor ;  and  landed  with  the 
other,  under  his  own  command,  on  the 
west  side,  where  stood  Fort  Trumbull,  a 
redoubt,  and,  three  miles  below,  the  town 
of  New  London  itself.  The  fort  and  re 
doubt  were  abandoned,  on  the  first  ap 
proach  of  Arnold,  by  the  few  militiamen 
in  them,  who  crossed  the  river  to  Fort 
Griswold,  on  Groton  hill.  The  renegade 
pushed  on,  and  quickly  possessed  himself 
of  the  town,  being  opposed  only  by  a  scat 
tered  fire  here  and  there  from  small  par 
ties  of  the  inhabitants  who  were  hastily 
collected  in  defence  of  their  homes. 

Fort  Griswold,  which  was  a  strongly- 
built,  square  fortification,  with  all  the  ac 
cessories  of  a  regular  work,  and  contained 
a  garrison  of  nearly  two  hundred  men, 
commanded  by  the  spirited  Colonel  Wil 
liam  Ledyard,  offered  a  resistance  which 
was  not  so  easily  overcome.  The  defend 
ers  were  inexperienced  militiamen,  who 
had  been  so  hastily  mustered,  that  many 
of  them  were  unprovided  with  firearms. 
But,  under  the  inspiration  of  their  brave 
leader,  they  fought  with  great  resolution. 
Colonel  Eyre,  however,  led  on  his  regu 
lars  and  loyalists  to  the  assault  on  three 
sides  with  a  determination  to  carry  the 
works  at  any  sacrifice.  His  men  were  for 
a  time  staggered  by  the  persistent  cour 


age  of  the  gallant  little  garrison.  Eyre 
himself  was  mortally  wounded  ;  but  Ma 
jor  Montgomery,  his  second  in  command, 
continued  the  assault  with  equal  resolu 
tion.  His  men  thronged  into  the  ditch, 
scrambled  over  the  ramparts,  and  made 
their  way  through  the  embrasures,  until, 
by  the  force  of  numbers,  they  carried  the 
works,  though  not  without  a  heavy  cost, 
Montgomery  was  shot  dead  as  he  was  en 
tering  one  of  the  embrasures,  and  the  loss 
of  the  enemy  amounted  in  all  to  forty-six 
killed  and  one  hundred  and  forty-three 
wounded. 

The  Americans  had  only  about  half  a 
dozen  killed  when  the  enemy  thronged 
into  the  fort.  The  assailants,  exasperated 
by  the  obstinate  resistance  which  they  had 
encountered,  and  their  heavy  loss,  now 
showed  little  mercy.  Major  Brornfield,  a 
New-  Jersey  loyalist,  who  succeeded  to  the 
command  on  the  death  of  Eyre  and  Mont- 
gomerv,  on  entering  the  fort,  asked  fierce- 

o  ^  ~ 

ly,  "  Who  commands  ?"  Colonel  Ledyard 
replied,  "I  did,  sir,  but  you  do  now,"  giv 
ing  up  his  sword  as  he  spoke,  which  Brom- 
field  took,  and  with  it  ran  him  through 
and  killed  him  !  The  Hessians  and  tories, 
following  the  example  of  their  miscreant 
leader,  immediately  began  an  indiscrimi 
nate  massacre  of  the  disarmed  garrison, 
and  the  slaughter  which  ensued  increased 
the  American  loss  to  eighty-five  killed  and 
sixty  wounded.  Seventy  only  were  taken 
prisoners.  This  horrible  butchery  justly 
excited  the  indignation  of  the  republicans 
throughout  the  land,  and  disgusted  the 
more  conservative  and  humane  portion 
of  the  loyalists. 

Arnold,  on  reaching  New  London,  re- 


REVOLUTIONARY.  J         NEW  LONDON  BURNT.— WASHINGTON  IN  VIRGINIA. 


907 


duced  the  town  to  ashes.  Several  vessels 
in  the  harbor  were  also  burnt,  while  the 
rest  escaped  up  the  Thames.  Large  sup 
plies  of  West-India  produce, together  with 
an  immense  quantity  of  military  stores, 
were  consumed  in  the  general  conflagra 
tion,  which  not  only  ruined  most  of  the 
inhabitants,  but  proved  a  serious  loss  to 
the  public. 

In  its  spirit  and  execution,  the  whole 
expedition  was  unworthy  of  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  but  entirely  in  consonance  with 
the  character  of  the  traitor-knave  who 
conducted  it.  "  It  has  been  said."  writes 
his  biographer,  "that  Arnold,  while  New 
London  was  in  flames,  stood  in  the  belfry 
of  a  steeple,  and  witnessed  the  conflagra 
tion  ;  thus,  like  Nero,  delighted  with  the 
ruin  he  had  caused,  the  distresses  he  had 
inflicted,  the  blood  of  his  slaughtered  coun 
trymen,  the  anguish  of  the  expiring  pa 
triot,  the  widow's  tears,  and  the  orphan's 
cries.  And  what  adds  to  the  enormity 
is,  that  he  stood  almost  in  sight  of  the 
spot  where  he  drew  his  first  breath  ;  that 
every  object  around  was  associated  with 
the  years  of  his  childhood  and  youth,  arid 
revived  those  images  of  the  past  which 
kindle  emotions  of  tenderness  in  all  but 
hearts  of  stone."::: 

Arnold,  having  gratified  his  malignant 
spirit,  and  committed  all  the  evil  which 
lay  in  his  power,  returned  with  his  Van 
dal  mercenaries  to  New  York.  It  was, 
fortunately,  one  of  the  closing  acts  of  his 
career  in  America,  being  the  last  military 
service  of  any  consequence  in  which  he 
was  employed  ;  and  it  served  only  to  ren 
der  still  darker  the  shades  which  his  foul 

*  Sparks. 


treason  had  thrown  over  his  name.  He 
soon  went  to  England,*  and  quitted  the 
United  States  for  ever,  where  his  memory 
will  probably  outlive  that  of  good  men  ; 
for  nations,  like  individuals,  are  more  con 
stant  in  hate  than  in  love. 

The  marauding  expedition  to  Connect 
icut,  however,  as  we  have  seen,  utterly 
failed  in  its  object,  since  Washington  was 
not  for  a  moment  stayed  in  his  course  by 
these  outrages,  but  pressed  forward  to 
Virginia. 

On  the  return  of  Admiral  Graves  from 
the  coast  of  Virginia  to  New  York,  Count 
de  Barras,  at  the  request  of  Lafayette,  de 
spatched  transports  up  the  Chesapeake  to 
bring  down  the  allied  troops  which,  it  will 
be  remembered,  were  detained  at  Annap 
olis  and  the  Head  of  Elk  for  the  want  of 
vessels.  Meanwhile,  in  the  even 


ing,  Washington   and  Rocharn- 


Sept.  14. 


beau,  with  their  respective  attendants,  on 
their  way  from  Mount  Vernon,  arrived  at 
the  quarters  of  Lafayette,  at  Williams- 
burg,  twelve  miles  above  Yorktown. 

Admiral  De  Grasse  had  been  so  impa 
tient  of  delay,  that,  with  St.  Simon,  who 
commanded  his  land-force,  he  urged  La 
fayette  to  co-operate  with  him  in  an  at 
tack  on  Lord  Cornwallis  before  the  arri 
val  of  Washington  and  Rochambeau,  and 
thus  secure  a  victory  for  the  republicans 
and  imperishable  renown  for  himself.  But 
the  young  marquis,  with  a  generous  and 
humane  spirit,  repressed  his  natural  ardor 
for  glory,  and  declined  the  proposition  ol 
the  count;  for  he  saw  that  such  an  at- 

*  Sec  page  274  of  this  volume.  "  To  Arnold,"  says  Hor 
ace  Walpole,  "  no  countenance  was  denied  by  the  king  or 
ministers.  The  public,  more  equitable,  despised  him." 


908 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


fPAET    II. 


tempt,  even  if  successful,  would  involve 
a  great  sacrifice  of  life.  He  perceived, 
moreover,  that  a  victory  at  this  crisis  of 
the  war  would  in  all  probability  give  a, 
finishing  blow  to  the  contest.  Yet,  with 
characteristic  magnanimity,  he  resolved 
to  leave  that  victory  to  be  achieved  and 
all  honors  to  be  won  by  Washington ! 

As  soon,  however,  as  the  commanders- 
in-chief  of  the  allied  land-forces  arrived, 
Count  de  Grasse  solicited  an  interview. 
Washington,  therefore,  accompanied  by 
Rochambeau,  Chastellux,  Gener 
als  Knox  and  Du  Portail,  sailed 
from  Williamsburg  in  the  Queen  Char 
lotte  for  the  Ville  de  Paris,  the  magnifi 
cent  flag-ship  of  De  Grasse,  then  lying  in 
Lynn-Haven  bay.  They  were  received 
on  board  at  noon  the  next  day,  when  the 
admiral,  a  tall,  fine-looking  man,  heartily 
embraced  Washington,  with  the  exclama 
tion,  in  broken  English,  "My  dear  little  gen 
eral!"  This  adjective,  applied  to  the  stal 
wart  form  of  Washington  (who  was  over 
six  feet  in  height,  and  weighed  at  this  pe 
riod  upward  of  two  hundred  pounds),  was 
quite  ludicrous ;  and,  while  the  polite  and 
courteous  Frenchmen  concealed  their  feel 
ings,  the  fat  sides  of  jolly  Knox,  it  is  said, 
shook  with  his  laughter.* 

A  council  of  war  was  now  held 
on  board  the  flag-ship,  and  meas 
ures  were  immediately  concerted  for  re 
ducing  Earl  Cornwallis  in  Yorktown  with 
the  utmost  promptness,  on  the  arrival  of 
the  allied  army,  as  the  French  admiral 
declared  that  he  could  not  remain  long 
or  the  station.  All  the  arrangements  hav 
ing  been  completed  in  a  satisfactory  man- 

*  Custis's  Recollections  of  Washington. 


Sept,  18, 


ner,  Washington  and  his  companions  re 
turned  to  Williamsburg. 

The  last  division  of  the  allies  finally 
reached  the  general  rendezvous 
at  V/illiamsburg.  The  march  of 
this  army  through  a  fertile  country,  from 
the  banks  of  the  Hudson  to  central  Vir 
ginia,  a  distance  of  more  than  five  hun 
dred  miles,  was  remarkable  for  its  order 
and  discipline.  "It  was  at  a  season,"  re 
marks  Ramsay,  "  when  the  most  delicious 
productions  of  nature,  growing  on  and 
near  the  public  highways,  presented  both 
opportunity  and  temptation  to  gratify  the 
appetite.  Yet  so  complete  was  its  disci 
pline,  that  in  this  long  march  scarcely  an 
instance  could  be  produced  of  an  apple  or 
a  peach  being  taken  without  the  consent 
of  the  inhabitants."  The  French  were 
particularly  scrupulous.  At  Rhode  island, 
"  the  Indians,"  writes  De  Rochambeau,  in 
his  narrative,  "  expressed  their  astonish 
ment  at  nothing  but  to  see  still  laden  with 
fruit  the  trees  that  overhung  the  tents 
which  the  soldiers  had  occupied  for  three 
months." 

In  the  meantime,  news  arrived  which 
threatened  to  frustrate  all  Washington's 
plans.  Graves  at  New  York  had  been  re 
inforced  by  Admiral  Digby,  with  six  ships- 
of-the-line.  De  Grasse,  confident  that  ev 
ery  effort  would  now  be  made  for  the  re 
lief  of  Cornwallis,  and  that  the  combined 
fleet  might  soon  be  expected  off  the  Ches 
apeake,  wrote  to  Washington  that,  in  or 
der  to  meet  Graves  and  Digby,  he  should 
put  to  sea  with  all  his  fleet,  excepting  a 
few  frigates  which  he  would  leave  behind 
to  blockade  York  river.  Fearful  lest  in 
the  absence  of  the  French,  the  English 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SIEGE  OF  YORKTOWN. 


909 


might  slip  into  their  places,  and  thus  wrest 
Earl  Cornwallis  from  his  grasp,  Washing 
ton  earnestly  besonght  De  Grasse  not  to 
leave  the  Chesapeake.  The  French  ad 


miral,  by  the  joint  entreaties  of  the  Amer 
ican  chief  and  Lafayette,  was  finally  per 
suaded  to  remain,  and  the  siege  of  York 
town  was  begun  without  delay. 


CHAPTER    CVI. 

Advance  of  the  Allied  Force. — Washington  and  De  Rochambeau  before  Yorktown. — A  Bivouac. — Position  of  the  Amen 
cans. — Position  of  the  French. — Despatch  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton. — Concentration  of  the  British  Force. — Confidence 
of  Lord  Cornwallis. — Labor  on  the  Works. — Description  of  the  Defences. — The  Besiegers  take  Possession  of  the  Out 
works. — A  Skirmish. — Death  of  Colonel  Scamme!. — De  Lauzun's  Legion. — Conflict  with  Colonel  Tarleton. — Search) 
of  Forage. — Dead  Horses. — Tarleton  unhorsed. — His  Retreat. — Investment  of  Yorktown. — The  French. — Their  Troops 
and  Position. — The  Americans  and  their  Position. — Governor  Nelson's  Patriotism. — Coolness  of  Washington. — The 
Breaking  Ground. — The  First  Parallel. — Gener  1  Lincoln  has  the  Honor. — Opening  Fire. — Washington  at  the  Guns. — 
The  Cannonade. — First  Salutation  to  Cormv;illis. —  Hot  Shot. — Fire  among  the  Ships. — A  Sublime  Spectacle. — The 
Second  Parallel. — Redoubled  Fury. — Assault  on  the  Redoubts. — Rivalry  of  the  French  and  Americans. — Colonel  Al 
exander  Hamilton  in  the  Van. — Fall  of  the  Redoubts. — "  D'Auvergne  sans  Tache." — The  British  Fire. — Washington 
in  Danger. — "  Billy,  my  Horse!" — Desperate  Situation  of  Cornwallis. — No  Relief. — Sortie  of  the  Guards. — Bold  Ex 
pedient  of  his  Lordship. — Its  Failure. — Propositions  to  surrender. — Capitulation  of  Yorktown. — Close  of  the  War. 


,781, 


Sept,  28, 


AT  length,  the  combined  armies, 
numbering  twelve  thousand  strong, 
under  Washington  and  De  Rochambeau, 
moved  by  different  roads  from  their  en 
campment  near  Williamsburg.  General 
de  Choise,  with  the  duke  de  Lauzun  and 
his  legion,  the  marines  from  De  Barras's 
fleet,  arid  a  brigade  of  Virginia 
militia,  under  General  Weedon, 
proceeded  to  invest  Gloucester ;  and  the 
main  allied  forces,  marching  to  the  right, 
posted  themselves  toward  evening  with 
in  two  miles  of  the  outer  works  at  York- 
town.  Washington  remained  upon  the 
ground  with  his  staff  during  the  whole 
night,  sleeping  under  the  cover  of  a  mul 
berry-tree,  and  resting  his  head  upon  its 
root  for  a  pillow. 

Early  the  next  morning,  the  besiegers 
cautiously   closed  in   toward    the    outer 


Sept,  29, 


works  :  the  Americans,  forming  the  right 
wing,  taking  their  post  on  the  east  side ; 
and  the  French,  forming  the  left,  taking 

'  O  7  o 

theirs  on  the  west.  The  British  pickets 
and  some  squads  of  horse  slowly  retired 
as  they  approached,  but  not  a  gun  was 
fired. 

In  the  evening,  an  express  arrived  in 
the  British  camp  with  despatch 
es  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  atNew 
York,  dated  on  the  24th  of  September,  in 
forming  Lord  Cornwallis  that,  at  a  coun 
cil  of  war  held  that  day,  it  was  resolved 
to  send  upward  of  five  thousand  troops, 
with  a  fleet,  to  the  relief  of  his  lordship  ; 
and  that,  as  Admiral  Digby  had  just  ar 
rived  at  New  York  with  a  squadron  of 
twenty-three  ships,  the  reinforcements  for 
Yorktown  might  be  expected  to  sail  by 
the  5th  of  October.  That  night,  the  earl 


910 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


withdrew  his  army  from  the  outer  works, 
and  concentrated  it  within  his  fortifica 
tions  nearer  the  town, where  he  confident 
ly  awaited  the  issue  of  the  siege.  In  his 
reply  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  he  boastfully 
declares  :  "I  have  ventured,  these  last  two 
days,  to  look  General  Washington's  whole 
force  in  the  face  in  the  position  on  the 
outside  of  my  works,  and  have  the  pleas 
ure  to  assure  your  excellency  that  there 
is  but  one  irish  throughout  the  army,  which  is, 
that  the  enemy  would  advance I  shall  re 
treat  this  night  within  the  works;  and 
have  no  doubt,  if  relief  arrives  in  any  rea 
sonable  time,  York  and  Gloucester  will  be 
both  in  possession  of  his  majesty's  troops." 
Lord  Cornwallis  had  been  diligent  in 
the  construction  of  his  works,  which  were 
extensive,  though  not  entirely  complete. 
Seven  redoubts  and  six  batteries,  connect 
ed  by  in  trench  men  ts,  surrounded  York- 
town  on  the  land-side ;  while  field-works 
stretched  beyond,  with  redoubts  and  abat- 
ti-s  along  the  ravines,  the  creeks,  and  the 
York  river.  Gloucester  Point,  situated  on 
the  tongue  of  land  on  the  northern  and 
opposite  side  to  Yorktown,  was  also  forti 
fied,  and  occupied  by  Colonel  Tarleton 
and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Dundas,  with  a 
detachment  of  six  or  seven  hundred  men. 
The  communication  between  the  two  posts 
was  commanded  by  batteries  on  either 
side,  and  also  by  the  small  British  squad 
ron  at  anchor,  under  the  land-guns,  in  the 
river,  which,  although  only  a  mile  wide 
at  this  point,  was  of  sufficient  depth  for 
the  largest  vessels. 


Sept,  30. 


Next  morning,  the  besiegers 
hastened  to  possess  themselves 
of  the  outworks,  which  had  been  impru 


dently  abandoned  by  his  lordship,  accord 
ing  to  some  military  critics;  but,  in  his 
own  opinion,  tl  e  fortifications  were  too 
extensive  and  too  weak  to  be  held  by  his 
comparatively  small  force  of  little  more 
than  seven  thousand  men.  As  a  detach 
ment  of  American  light-infantry,  with  a 
few  French  troops,  were  proceeding  to 
take  possession  of  the  abandoned  field- 
works,  Colonel  Alexander  Scamrnel  ad 
vanced  to  reconnoitre,  and  was  attacked 
by  a  small  party  of  Hessians.  Finding 
himself  outnumbered,  he  surrendered,  but 
was  shot,  though  not  instantly  killed,  and 
carried  into  Yorktown,  whence  he  was  al 
lowed,  at  the  request  of  Washington,  to 
be  conveyed  to  Williamsburg,  where  he 
died.  An  active  and  spirited  officer,  his 
loss  was  universally  mourned  by  his  com 
rades,  and  particularly  by  the  command- 
er-in-chief,  whom  he  had  served  as  an  aid- 
de-carnp. 

While  the  main  body  of  the  allies  was 
investing  Yorktown,  the  forces  under  the 
duke  de  Lauzun  and  General  de  Choise 
had  proceeded  across  the  river,  to  keep 
watch  on  Dundas  and  Tarleton  at  Glou 
cester  Point,  A  collision  soon  occurred. 
Forage  had  become  so  scarce  with  the  en 
emy,  that  they  were  obliged  to  kill  their 
horses  in  great  numbers,  the  carcasses  of 
which  were  "almost  continually  floating 
clown  the  river."  Dundas  determined,  in 
spite  of  the  vigilance  of  his  enemy,  to 
make  a  bold  push  for  relief,  and  accord 
ingly  sallied  out  with  a  part  of  his  garri 
son  to  forage  the  country  adjoining.  He 
had  succeeded  in  gathering  a  good  sup 
ply  of  Indian  corn,  and  was  returning  to 
the  post  with  his  wagons  and  horses  laden 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         DE  LAUZUN  AND  TARLETON.— GOVERNOR  NELSON. 


with  the  spoil,  when  De  Lauzun  and  a 
party  of  French  hussars  suddenly  sprang 
upon  him.  Colonel  Tarleton,with  his  dra 
goons,  formed  the  rear-guard  of  the  Brit 
ish,  and,  coming  to  the  rescue,  a  severe 
struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  loss  of  the 
French  was  two  officers  and  fourteen  pri 
vates,  and  that  of  the  enemy  one  officer 
and  eleven  men.  Tarleton  was  unhorsed 
in  the  engagement,  and  obliged  to  sound 
a  retreat,  but  soon  mounted  again,  and 
renewed  the  conflict-  when,  seeing  De 
Choise  coming  up  with  a  reinforcement, 
he  retired  within  his  works  at  Gloucester. 
Yorktown  was  now  complete 
ly  invested  by  the  allies,  whose 
lines,  with  the  French  on  the  left  and  the 
Americans  on  the  right,  extended  around 
the  southern  and  land-side  of  the  town  in 
a  semicircle,  at  a  distance  of  nearly  two 
miles  from  the  British  works,  and  with 
each  extremity  resting  upon  York  river. 
The  French  wing,  under  the  general  com 
mand  of  De  Rochambeau,  was  composed 
of  the  West-India  regiments,  under  the 
marquis  de  St.  Simon,  and  the  French 
light-infantry,  under  the  baron  de  Viome- 

o  «/  * 

nil,  assisted  by  Montmorenci,  Deuxports, 
Custine,  and  other  Frenchmen  of  rank 
and  military  experience.  The  American 
wing,  under  the  command  of  General  Lin 
coln,  was  composed  of  the  Virginia,  Mary 
land,  and  Pennsylvania  troops,  command 
ed  by  the  baron  Steuben  ;  the  New-York, 
Rhode-Island,  and  New-Jersey  brigades, 
including  the  sappers  and  miners,  under 
GeneralJames  Clinton,  of  New  York;  and 
the  light-infantry,  under  Lafayette.  The 
French  artillery  was  posted  in  the  centre, 
near  the  quarters  of  Washington  and  Ro 


chambeau.  On  the  right,  across  a  marsh, 
was  the  American  artillery,  under  General 
Knox,  assisted  by  Colonel  Lamb  and  oth 
er  skilful  officers.  The  count  De  Grasse, 
with  his  fleet,  remained  below,  in  Lynn- 
Haven  bay,  to  beat  off  any  naval  force 
that  might  come  to  the  aid  of  the  British 
commander. 

Governor  Nelson,  of  Virginia,  had  also 
brought  into  the  field  a  goodly  number 
of  the  state  militia,  who  might  have  failed 
in  their  duty  to  their  country  on  that  occa 
sion,  had  it  not  been  for  the  generous  pa 
triotism  of  their  commander.  The  treas 
ury  of  the  state  was  empty,  and  the  mi 
litia  were  threatening  to  disband  for  want 
of  pay,  when  "  Nelson  learned  that  an  old 
Scotchman,  named  R—  — ,  had  a  consid 
erable  sum  in  gold,  which  like  most  other 
moneyed  persons  of  that  period,  he  kept 
carefully  concealed.  The  governor  wait 
ed  upon  the  man  of  gold,  a  rara  avis  in 
those  times,  and  begged  and  prayed  for 

a  loan  on  behalf  of  the  state.     R was 

inexorable,  saying,  ll  ken  nacthing  o'  your 
goovernment,  but  if  ye  ivutt  liae  Ihe  siller  for 
yourset)  general,  dell  tak'  me  but  every  bawlec 
of  it  is  at  your  service  /'  Nelson  accepted 
the  offer,  and  obtained  on  his  own  bond, 
and  by  his  own  personal  influence,  a  loan 
for  the  state  of  Virginia,  when  that  promi 
nent  state  had  neither  a  coin  in  her  treas 
ury  nor  credit  to  obtain  one.  The  gov 
ernor  received  the  gold,  and  quickly  did 
its  circulation  give  a  new  and  cheering 
aspect  to  our  destinies  at  that  momentous 
period.  And  now,"  continues  Mr.  Custis, 
"  it  would  be  naturally  asked,  '  Who  paid 
the  bond  and  its  accumulated  interest  ?' 
Posterity  would  answer,  'A  grateful  and 


912 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  n. 


admiring  country,  surely.'     Say,  rather, 
the  impoverished  family  of  the  patriot"* 

The  erection  of  two  redoubts 
Oct«  2t 

during  the  night,  by  the  Ameri 
cans,  drew  upon  them  a  heavy  cannonade 
from  the  enemy  next  morning.  While 
the  chaplain,  Mr.  Evans,  was  standing  by 
the  side  of  Washington,  a  ball  struck  the 
ground  so  near  as  to  throw  the  sand  upon 
his  hat.  Removing  it  from  his  head,  the 
parson  exclaimed,  in  great  agitation,  "See 
here,  general !" — "  Mr. Evans,"  quietly  an 
swered  the  chief,  "you  had  better  carry 
that  home,  and  show  it  to  your  wife  and 
children." 

After  a  delay  of  several  days  in  land 
ing  the  heavy  artillery  and  military  stores 
from  the  French  ships,  the  allied  armies 
began  to  break  ground,  as  the  town  was 
now  fully  invested.  Upon  Major-General 
Lincoln  devolved  the  honor  of  opening 

the  first  parallel.     Under  cover 

of  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  he 
silently  advanced  to  the  ground  with  a 
large  detachment.  The  armed  troops  led 
the  way,  followed  by  the  working-parties 
bearing  fascines  and  intrenching-tools  on 
their  shoulders,  horses  drawing  cannon, 
and  wagons  loaded  with  bags  filled  with 
sand  for  constructing  breastworks.  Un 
disturbed  by  the  foe,  the  troops  worked 
laboriously  that  night;  and,  before  day 
light,  they  had  nearly  completed  the  first 
parallel  line  of  almost  two  miles  in  length, 
besides  laying  the  foundations  of  two  re 
doubts  within  six  hundred  yards  of  the 
enemy's  works. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  third 

day,  several  batteries  of  eighteen 

*  Recollections  of  Washington,  p.  337. 


Oct.  6, 


Oct.  9, 


and  twenty-four  pounders  were  prepared 
to  open  upon  the  town,  "  when  his  excel 
lency  General  Washington  put  the  match 
to  the  first  gun,  and  a  furious  discharge 
of  cannon  and  mortars  immediately  fol 
lowed,"  giving  Earl  Cornwallis  his  first 
salutation.*  This  cannonade  was  contin 
ued  through  the  niucht,  and  ear- 

Oct,  10. 
ly  the  next  morning  the  rrench 

opened  three  batteries  upon  the  enemy. 
For  eight  hours  the  roar  of  the  big  guns 
was  continuous,  and  hundreds  of  bomb 
shells  and  round-shot  were  hurled  upon 
the  British  work.  So  tremendous  was  the 
bombardment,  that  very  soon  the  cannon 
of  the  besieged  were  nearly  silenced.  At 
night  the  French  discharged  red-hot  shot 
at  the  British  squadron  lying  at  anchor 
in  the  river,  setting  fire  to  the  Charon,  a 
forty-four  gun  ship,  and  to  three  trans 
ports.  The  Hash  and  thundering  of  the 
artillery,  the  burning  of  the  vessels,  the 
plunge  of  the  balls  into  the  river,  followed 
by  great  spouts  of  water,  produced,  we 
can  well  believe,  as  a  spectator  declares, 
"  one  of  the  most  sublime  and  magnificent 
spectacles  which  can  be  imagined." 

Throughout  the  night  the  allies  kept 
up  their  cannonade,  and  the  next  morn- 

iim'   another  British  vessel  was 

Oct.  11, 

set  on  hre  by  a  red-hot  ball,  and 

was  consumed.  From  the  9th  to  the  16th 
the  siege  continued;  and  in  the  meantime 
the  French  and  Americans  increased  the 
number  of  their  batteries,  and  maintained 
'•a  tremendous  and  incessant  firing,"  du 
ring  which  Lafayette,  Hamilton,  Laurens. 
Ogden,  Gibbs,  Stevens,  Carrington,  and 
other  American  officers,  as  well  as  many 

*  Timelier. 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


STORMING  OF  THE  REDOUBTS. 


913 


Oct.  14, 


of  their  French  comrades,  distinguished 
themselves  by  their  bravery. 

On  the  night  of  the  llth,  the  second 
parallel  was  opened,  and  batteries  were 
erected  within  three  hundred  yards  of  the 
British  works.  Both  besiegers  and  be 
sieged  now  began  to  fire  with  redoubled 
fury.  The  enemy  uncovered  new  embra 
sures,  and  were  thus  enabled  to  return  a 
more  effective  cannonade.  Two  of  their 
advance-redoubts  flanked  the  second  par 
allel,  and  so  greatly  annoyed  the  working- 
parties  of  the  besiegers,  that  it  was  deter 
mined  to  take  them  by  assault. 

Two  detachments  were  accord 
ingly  marched  out  in  the  even 
ing,  one  composed  of  American  light-in 
fantry,  under  Lafayette,  to  attack  the  re 
doubt  on  the  left;  and  the  other  of  French 
grenadiers  and  chasseurs,  commanded  by 
the  baron  de  Viornenil,  to  assail  the  re 
doubt  on  the  right  of  the  British  lines. 
The  advanced  corps  of  the  American  de 
tachment  was  led  by  Colonel  Alexander 
Hamilton,  long  the  favorite  aid-de-camp 
of  the  commander-in-chief,  but  now  re 
stored  to  his  rank  and  duty  in  the  line.* 

*  In  the  February  preceding,  General  Sullivan  had  rec 
ommended  the  appointment  of  Colonel  Hamilton  as  secre 
tary  of  the  treasury.  "  It  was  at  this  time,"  savs  Lossing, 
"  that  a  misunderstanding  occurred  between  Washington 
and  Colonel  Hamilton,  which  caused  the  withdrawal  of  the 
latter  from  the  military  family  of  the  commander-in-chief 
According  to  Hamilton's  account,  the  rupture  was  caused 
by  his  being  charged  with  disrespect  by  Washington.  He 
was  passing  Washington  on  the  stairs,  when  the  general  told 
Colonel  Hamilton  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  him.  The 
latter  answered  that  he  would  wait  upon  him  immediately. 
He  went  below,  delivered  a  message  to  one  of  the  aids,  and 
stopped  a  minute  on  his  way  back,  to  converse  with  Lafay 
ette  on  matters  of  business.  The  general  met  Hamilton  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  said,  '  Colonel  Hamilton,  you 
have  kept  me  waiting  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  these  ten  min 
utes.  I  must  tell  you,  sir,  you  treat  me  with  disrespect.' 
Hamilton  replied,  '  I  am  not  conscious  of  it,  sir  ;  but,  since 

115 


Lafayette  had,  in  the  first  instance,  hon 
ored  his  own  aid,  Colonel  Gimat,  by  giv 
ing  him  the  command.  Hamilton,  how 
ever,  had  insisted  that,  as  it  was  his  tour 
of  duty,  he  was  entitled  to  the  position. 
Upon  referring  the  question  to  Washing 
ton,  he  decided  in  favor  of  his  former  aid- 
de-camp  ;  and  it  was  finally  agreed  that 
Gimat's  should  take  the  advance  of  Ham 
ilton's  battalion,  but  that  the  latter  officer 
should  take  the  precedence  in  command. 
At  a  given  signal,  the  detachments  ad 
vanced  to  the  assault.  The  Americans 
made  an  impetuous  rush  for  the  redoubt 
on  their  side,  pulling  up  the  abattis  with 
their  hands,  knocking  down  the  palisades, 
leaping  over  the  ditch,  and  scrambling  up 
the  walls  into  the  enemy's  works.  Ham 
ilton  was  the  first  on  the  parapet — avail 
ing  himself,  however,  of  the  aid  of  one  of 
his  soldiers,  upon  whose  shoulder,  as  the 
man  knelt,  the  little  colonel  stepped,  and 
was  thus  raised  to  the  requisite  height 
for  mounting.  Not  a  gun  was  fired,  and 
the  redoubt  was  taken  by  the  push  of  the 
bayonet  alone.  The  assault  was  so  rap 
idly  effected,  that  the  loss  of  the  Ameri 
cans  was  trifling,  amounting  only  to  nine 
killed  and  thirty-two  wounded.  Major 
Campbell,  in  command,  with  seventeen  of 
his  garrison,  were  taken  prisoners.  Eight 

you  have  thought  it  necessary  to  tell  me  so,  we  part.'  Wash 
ington  rejoined,  '  Very  well,  sir,  if  it  be  your  choice.'  In 
less  than  an  hour  afterward,  one  of  Washington's  aids  wait 
ed  upon  Hamilton  with  a  tender  of  reconciliation.  This  the 
offended  young  gentleman  would  not  accept.  He  seems,  by 
his  letter  of  explanation  to  General  Schuyler,  to  have  been 
anxious  to  leave  his  position  in  Washington's  family,  and 
have  the  command  of  a  regiment.  In  that  letter  he  says, 
'I  was  always  determined,  if  there  should  ever  happen  a 
breach  between  us,  never  to  consent  to  an  accommodation.' 
This  is  the  key  to  the  whole  matter.  The  affront,  of  itself, 
was  too  slight  to  have  caused  the  rupture." 


914 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


LPATIT  IT 


were  killed  in  the  heat  of  the  assault,  but 
not  a  man  was  touched  after  he  ceased  to 
resist.  A  New-Hampshire  captain  threat 
ened  to  shoot  Campbell,  in  revenge  for 
the  death  of  Colonel  Scammel,  who  was 
from  his  native  state ;  but  Colonel  Ham 
ilton  interposed,  and  saved  the  major's 
life. 

"  As  the  Americans  were  mounting  the 
redoubt,"  says  Custis,  "Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Laurens, aid-de-camp  to  the  command- 
er-in-chief,  appeared  suddenly  on  their 
flank,  at  the  head  of  two  companies.  Up 
on  Major  Fish*  hailing  him  with — (  Why, 
Laurens,  what  brought  you  here  ?'  the  he 
ro  replied,  'I  had  nothing  to  do  at  head 
quarters,  and  so  came  here  to  see  what 
you  all  were  about.'  Bravest  among  the 
brave,  this  Bayard  of  his  age  and  country 
rushed  with  the  foremost  into  the  works, 
making  with  his  own  hand  Major  Camp 
bell,  the  British  commandant,  a  prisoner- 
of-war.  The  cry  of  the  Americans  as  they 
mounted  to  the  assault  was, '  Remember 
New  London !'  But  here,  as  at  Stony 
Point,  notwithstanding  the  provocation 
to  retaliate  was  justified  by  the  inhuman 
massacres  of  Paoli  and  Fort  Gris  wold,  mer 
cy  perched  triumphant  on  our  country's 
colors." 

The  French  were  not  so  expeditious  in 
their  assault.  They  were  determined  to 
do  the  thing  according  to  the  most  ap 
proved  rules  of  art,  and  would  not  ad 
vance  till  their  pioneers  had  "regularly" 
cut  down  the  nbattis.  In  the  meantime, 
they  were  exposed  to  a  galling  fire.  The 
marquis  de  Lafayette,  with  the  Ameri- 

*  Major  Nicholas  Fish,  of  the  New  York  line,  and  father 
of  Hamilton  Fish,  late  governor  of  the  state  of  New  York. 


cans,  having  accomplished  his  duty,  sent 
Major  Barbour,  his  aid,  to  inform  De  Vio- 
menil  that  "  he  was  in  his  redoubt,  and  to 
ask  the  baron  where  lie  was."  Barbour 
found  the  French  commander,  while  his 
pioneers  were  "systematically"  clearing 
away  the  abattis,  waiting  to  begin  the  as 
sault.  "  Tell  the  marquis,"  he  said,  in  an 
swer  to  Lafayette's  message,  "that  I  am 
not  in  mine,  hit  will  be  in  five  minutes  /" 

The  assault,  once  begun,  was  made  with 
a  gallant  dash.  The  regiment  of  the  Gati- 
nais,  mindful  of  the  promise  of  De  Ro- 
chambeau,  fought  with  great  spirit.  The 
French  general,  who  had  formerly  served 
as  colonel  of  the  D'Auversme  regiment, 

o  o  " 

out  of  which  the  Gatinais  had  been  formed, 
had  promised  them  to  get  back  from  the 
king  their  old  name  of  " D '  Auvcrgne  sans 
tache"  if  they  proved  themselves  worthy 
of  it  on  that  night.  The  name  was  re 
stored.  The  loss  of  the  French  was  con 
siderable.  Count  de  Deuxponts  received 
a  wound,  and  Count  Charles  de  Lameth 
was  shot  by  a  musket-ball  which  passed 
through  both  his  knees ;  while  nearly  a 
hundred  of  the  privates  were  either  killed 
or  wrounded. 

The  British  kept  up  an  incessant  can 
nonade  from  all  their  works  during  (he 
assaults  upon  the  two  redoubts.  Wash 
ington,  with  Generals  Lincoln  and  Knox 
and  their  suites,  having  dismounted, stood 
watching  the  result.  One  of  Washing 

o  o 

ton's  aids,  observing  that  his  position  was 
an  exposed  one,  became  solicitous  for  his 
safety,  and  remarked:  "Sir,  you  are  too 
much  exposed  here.  Had  you  not  better 
step  a  little  back?" — "Colonel,"  replied 
the  chief,  "if  you  are  afraid,  you  have 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         DESPERATE  EXPEDIENTS  OF  LORD  CORNWALLIS. 


915 


liberty  to  step  back."  Soon  afterward,  a 
musket-ball, after  striking  a  cannon, rolled 
at  Washington's  feet,  when  General  Knox, 
grasping  his  arm,  ventured  to  remark, "  My 
dear  general,  we  can't  spare  you  yet."  — 
"  It  is  a  spent  ball — no  harm  is  done,"  was 
the  simple  reply.  When  the  last  redoubt 
was  taken,  Washington  turned  to  Knox 
and  said,  "  The  work  is  done,  and  well 
done,"  and  then  called  to  his  servant — 
"  Billy,  bring  me  my  horse."* 

"  Washington,  during  the  whole  of  the 
siege,"  says  Custis,  "continued  to  expose 
himself  to  every  danger.  It  was  in  vain 
his  officers  remonstrated.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Colonel  Cobb,  his  aid-de-camp,  en 
treated  him  to  come  down  from  a  parapet, 
whence  he  was  reconnoitring  the  enemy's 
works,  the  shot  and  shells  flying  thickly 
around,  and  an  officer  of  the  New-England 
line  killed  within  a  very  few  yards.  Du 
ring  one  of  his  visits  to  the  main  battery, 
a  soldier  of  Colonel  Lamb's  artillery  had 
his  leg  shattered  by  the  explosion  of  a 
shell.  As  they  were  bearing  him  to  the 
rear,  he  recognised  the  chief,  and  cried 
out,  '  God  bless  your  excellency  !  save  me 
if  you  can,  for  I  have  been  a  good  soldier, 
and  served  under  you  during  the  whole 
war.'  Sensibly  affected  by  the  brave  fel 
low's  appeal,  the  general  immediately  or 
dered  him  to  the  particular  care  of  his 
own  surgeon;  Doctor  Craik.  It  was  too 
late;  death  terminated  his  sufferings  after 
an  amputation  was  performed." 

The  captured  redoubts  being  now  in 
cluded  in  the  second  parallel,  which  was 
almost  completed,  and  the  heaviest  of  the 
guns  from  the  French  ships  mounted  up- 

*  Lossin"-- 


Oct.  15. 


on  the  batteries,  together  with  the  artil 
lery  that  had  been  taken,  the  besiegers 
were  enabled  to  act  with  tremendous  ef 
fect  upon  the  town.  The  situation  of 
Earl  Cornwallis  was  becoming  desperate. 
His  works  were  crumbling  to  pieces,  and 
nearly  all  the  guns  on  his  left  were  dis 
mounted  or  silenced.  It  was  now 
ten  days  since  the  time  appoint 
ed  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton  for  the  sailing 
of  the  fleet  and  troops  from  New  York  to 
his  lordship's  relief;  and  yet  there  was 
not  a  sign  of  their  approach,  or  a  single 
word  received  to  account  for  the  torturing 
delay.  Cornwallis,  however,  still  strug 
gled  against  fate.  To  retard  the  progress 
of  the  second  parallel,  now  nearly  com 
pleted,  and  to  gain  still  a  little  time,  his 
lordship  ordered  a  sortie  of  three  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  composed  of  guards  and 
light-infantry,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Abercrombie,  against  two  of  the  French 
batteries,  almost  finished. 

The  assault  began  a  little  before  day 
break.  Abercrombie  divided  his 
force  into  two  detachments,  send 
ing  the  guards  against  one  battery  and 
the  light-infantry  against  the  other.  Botb 
attacks  were  made  with  a  gallant  dash  : 
the  French  wrere  driven  out,  with  the  loss 
of  a  hundred  killed  and  wounded,  and  all 
their  guns  spiked. 

A  support,  however,  soon  came  up  from 
the  trenches,  and  drove  the  British  out 
of  the  batteries  again.  The  cannon  had 
been  so  hurriedly  spiked,  that  the  spikes 
were  readily  withdrawn  ;  and  before  the 
ensuing  night  the  batteries  were  finished, 
and  now  opened  with  great  effect  upon 
the  town. 


Oct.  16. 


916 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Oct.  16, 


On  this  day,  Lord  Cornwallis 
began  to  despair  of  being  longer 
able  to  hold  his  position.  His  crumbling 
works  could  hardly  show  a  mounted  gun  ; 
he  was  almost  reduced  to  his  last  shell ; 
and  his  troops  were  so  worn  by  their  in 
cessant  watching,  exposure,  and  severe 
labor,  that  the  hospitals  were  filled  with 
the  sick  and  wounded.  Hopeless  now  of 
receiving  aid  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  in 
time  to  save  himself,  his  lordship  was  re 
duced  to  the  alternative  of  surrendering 
or  attempting  an  escape.  The  latter  was 
a  bold  and  hazardous  expedient,  but  the 
earl  bravely  chose  it. 

Looking  across  York  river,  and  to  the 

D  ' 

wide-spreading  country  beyond,  his  lord 
ship  hoped  to  save  at  least  a  portion  of 
his  troops  by  a  daring  and  rapid  move 
ment.  He  would  secretly  cross  the  river 
in  the  night,  before  break  of  day  attack 
General  de  Choise  (who  had  completely 
invested  Gloucester),  cut  to  pieces  or  sur 
prise  his  force,  seize  the  French  cavalry- 
horses  and  those  he  could  find  on  his 
route,  mount  his  infantry,  make  with  all 
speed  for  the  fords  of  the  Rappahannock, 
Potomac,  and  other  great  rivers,  and  force 
his  way  through  Maryland,  Pennsylvania, 
and  New  Jersey,  thus  effecting  a  junction 
with  the  British  commander-in-chief  at 
New  York.  The  artillery,  military  stores, 
baggage, and  the  sick  and  wounded,  would 
have  to  be  left  behind  ;  but  his  lordship 
had  determined  even  upon  this  sacrifice, 
in  order  to  save  himself  the  mortification 
of  a  surrender. 

Accordingly,  at  a  late  hour  on 
the  same  night,  the  light-infan 
try,  the  greater  part  of  the  guards,  and 


Oct.  16. 


Oct,  17, 


a  portion  of  the  twenty-third  regiment, 
were  embarked  in  boats,  and  landed  on 
Gloucester  Point.  So  secretly  was  this 
effected,  that  the  besiegers  on  neither  side 
of  the  river  were  conscious  of  the  move 
ment.  The  rest  of  the  army  was  ready 
to  follow,  when  a  violent  storm  of  wind 
and  rain  arose,  which  prevented  the  boats 
from  returning,  and  ruined  the  whole  pro 
ject.  Cornwallis  now  abandoned  all  hopes 
of  escape,  and  recalled  the  troops  from  the 
other  side.  The  day,  however,  was  con- 
siderabty  advanced  before  they  were  able 
to  return,  when  they  were  seen  by  the 
besiegers,  and  exposed  to  their  fire. 

The  allies,  in  the  meantime,  had  kept 
up  their  destructive  cannonade.  At  day 
break,  several  new  batteries  in 
the  second  parallel  were  opened, 
by  which  a  more  terrible  tempest  of  shell 
and  round-shot  was  poured  upon  York- 
town  than  had  yet  been  sent.  It  was  on 
this  occasion  that  Governor  Nelson,  who 
commanded  the  first  battery,  made  a,  most 
noble  and  touching  display  of  patriotism. 
The  incident  is  best  related  in  the  words 
of  Lafayette,  himself  a  prominent  actor 
in  the  scene,  who  thus  narrated  it  to  Cus- 
tis,  on  his  last  visit  to  Mount  Vernon,  in 
1825:- 

"  I  had  just  finished  a  battery,"  said  the 
nation's  guest, "mounted  with  heavy  pie 
ces  ;  but,  before  I  opened  on  the  town,  I 
requested  the  attendance  of  the  governor 
of  Virginia,  not  only  as  a  compliment  due 
to  the  chief  magistrate  of  the  state  in 
which  I  was  serving,  but  from  his  accu 
rate  knowledge  of  the  localities  of  a  place 
in  which  he  had  spent  the  greater  part  of 
his  life.  '  To  what  particular  spot  would 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


EARL  CORNWALLIS  IN  THE  CAVE. 


917 


your  excellency  direct  that  we  should 
point  the  cannon  ?'  I  asked.  'There/ 
promptly  replied  the  noble-minded,  patri 
otic  Nelson,  '  to  that  house.  It  is  mine, 
and  is,  now  that  the  secretary's  is  nearly 
knocked  to  pieces,  the  best  one  in  the 
town ;  and  there  you  will  be  almost  cer 
tain  to  find  Lord  Cornwallis  and  the  Brit 
ish  headquarters.  Fire  upon  it,  my  dear 
marquis,  and  never  spare  a  particle  of  my 
property  so  long  as  it  affords  a  comfort 
or  a  shelter  to  the  enemies  of  my  coun 
try.'  The  governor  then  rode  away,  leav 
ing  us  all  charmed  with  an  instance  of  de 
votional  patriotism  that  would  have  shed 
a  lustre  upon  the  purest  ages  of  Grecian 
or  Roman  virtue."* 

"  The  first  headquarters  of  Earl  Corn 
wallis,"  adds  Custis,  "  were  in  the  house 
of  Mr.  Secretary  Nelson,  a  relative  of  the 
governor,  and  a  gentleman  attached  to 
the  royal  cause.  It  was  a  very  large  and 
splendid  brick  mansion,  and,  towering 
above  the  ramparts,  afforded  a  fine  mark 
for  the  American  artillery,  that  soon  rid 
dled  it,  having  learned  from  a  deserter 
that  it  contained  the  British  headquar 
ters.  His  lordship  remained  in  the  house 
until  his  steward  was  killed  by  a  cannon- 

*  "  When  I  visited  Yorktown  a  few  years  ago,"  says  Los- 
sin^,  "  Governor  Nelson's  house  was  yet  standing,  and  was 
occupied  by  his  grandson.  It  was  a  large,  two-storied  brick 
building,  fronting  the  main  street  of  the  town,  a  short  dis 
tance  from  the  river  bank.  It  bore  many  scars  of  the  can 
nonade  and  bombardment  alluded  to;  and  in  the  yard,  in 
front,  lay  an  unexploded  bombshell,  cast  there  at  the  time 
of  the  siege.  A  few  feet  from  the  door  was  a  fine  laurel-iree, 
from  whose  boughs  a  handsome  civic  wreath  was  made,  on 
the  occasion  of  Lafayette's  visit  there,  in  1824.  The  wreath 
was  placed  upon  the  brow  of  the  nation's  guest,  when  he  in 
stantly  removed  it  and  laid  it  upon  that  of  Colonel  Nicholas 
Fish,  of  the  Revolution,  who  accompanied  him,  remarking 
that  no  one  was  better  entitled  to  wear  the  mark  of  honor 
than  he." 


ball  while  carrying  a  tureen  of  soup  to 
his  master's  table. 

"  The  British  general  then  removed  his 
headquarters  to  the  house  of  Governor 
Nelson,  and  finally  to  npartments  exca 
vated  in  the  bank  on  the  southern  ex 
tremity  of  the  town,  where  two  rooms 
were  wainscotted  with  boards,  and  lined 
with  baize,  for  his  accommodation."  The 
cave,  whose  entrance  was  concealed  by 
an  old  house,  was  probably  made  for  the 
hiding  of  valuables.  "  It  was  in  that  cav 
ernous  abode  that  the  earl  received  his 
last  letter  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton.  It  was 
brought  by  the  Honorable  Colonel  Coch- 
ran,  who,  landing  from  an  English  cutter 
on  Cape  Charles,  procured  an  open  boat, 
and  threading  his  way,  under  cover  of  a 
fog, through  the  French  fleet,  arrived  safe 
ly,  and  delivered  his  despatches.  They 
contained  orders  for  the  earl  to  hold  out 
to  the  last  extremity,  assuring  him  that 
a  force  of  seven  thousand  men  would  be 
immediately  embarked  for  his  relief. 

"  While  taking  wine  with  his  lordship 
after  dinner,  the  gallant  colonel  proposed 
that  he  should  go  up  to  the  ramparts  and 
take  a  look  at  the  Yankees,  and  upon  his 
return  give  Washington's  health  in  a  bum 
per.  He  was  dissuaded  from  so  rash  a 
proceeding  by  every  one  at  the  table,  the 
whole  of  the  works  being  at  that  time  in 
so  ruinous  a  state,  that  shelter  could  be 
had  nowhere.  The  colonel,  however,  per 
sisted;  and,  gayly  observing  that  he  would 
leave  his  glass  as  his  representative  till  his 
return,  which  would  be  quickly,  away  he 
went.  Poor  fellow !  lie  did  return,  and  that 
quickly,  but  he  was  borne  in  the  arms  ot 
his  soldiers,not  to  his  glass,  but  his  grave." 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


Oct.  17. 


Under  the  terrible  and  inces 


sant  cannonade  of  the  besiegers, 
with  which  the  earth  trembled  for  a  great 
distance  around,  the  British  works  were 
so  knocked  to  pieces,  that  hardly  a  gun 
could  be  fired  from  them.  York  town  had 
now  become  so  evidently  untenable,  that 
Lord  Cornwallis  felt  that  it  would  be  mad 
ness  to  await  an  assault.  After  consult 
ing  his  engineers  and  officers,  he  accord 
ingly  beat  a  parley  about  noon,  and  pro 
posed  a  cessation  of  hostilities  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  the  appointment  of  com 
missioners  on  either  side,  to  settle  the 
terms  of  a  surrender.  His  lordship's  ob 
ject  was  to  gain  time,  as  he  was  in  hourly 
expectation  of  the  arrival  of  a  naval  force 
from  New  York. 

Washington,  in  reply,  objected  to  the 
long  delay ;  for  he,  too,  had  information 
of  the  expected  arrival  of  succor  for  Corn 
wallis,  and  he  was  fearful  his  prey  might 
escape.  He  therefore  expressed  the  de 
sire  that  the  earl,  previous  to  the  meeting 
of  the  commissioners,  would  state  in  wri 
ting  his  proposals,  for  which  purpose  a  sus 
pension  of  hostilities  for  two  hours  would 
be  granted.  His  lordship  complied  with 
the  request,  and  sent  back  his  written  prop 
ositions.  These,  however,  not  being  con 
sidered  admissible,  Washington  rejoined 
with  a  statement  of  his  own  terms,  which 
were  agreed  to  by  the  earl,  and  made  the 
basis  upon  which  the  capitulation  was 
finally  adjusted. 

Colonel  John  Laurens  and  Viscount  de 
Noailles  (the  latter  Lafayette's  brother- 
in-law)  were  appointed  the  two  commis 
sioners  in  behalf  of  General  Washington, 
and  Colonel  Ross  and  Lieutenant-Colonel 


Oct.  18, 


Dundas  on  the  part  of  Lord  Cornwallis 
The  commissioners  met  in  the  morning 
and  discussed  the  terms  of  the 
surrender,  on  which  they  could 
not  fully  agree,  and  the  entire  day  was 
spent  in  conferences  and  negotiations. 

Washington  would  not  allow  any  fur 
ther  delay,  and  early  the  next  morning 
he  sent  a  fair  transcript  of  rough  articles 
to  Cornwallis,  with  a  letter,  in  which  he 
informed  his  lordship  that  he  should  ex 
pect  them  to  be  signed  by  eleven  o'clock 
that  clay,  and  that  the  troops  of  the  gar 
rison  would  march  out  to  surrender  by 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  To  this  the 
earl  was  obliged  to  submit.  The  articles 
were  signed  by  the  respective  parties 
(at  the  house  of  Mr.  Moore,  in  the  neigh 
borhood),  and,  at  the  hour  appointed,  the 
garrisons  at  York  town  and  Glou 
cester,  the  shipping  in  the  har 
bor,  and  all  the  ordnance,  ammunition,  and 
stores,  belonging  to  the  British  at  York- 
town,  were  surrendered  to  the  land  and 
naval  forces  of  France  and  the  United 
States,  after  a  siege  of  thirteen  days. 

The  following  is  an  abstract  of  the  ar 
ticles  of  capitulation  :  I.  The  garrisons  at 
York  and  Gloucester  to  surrender  them 
selves  prisoners-of-war;  the  land-troops  to 
remain  prisoners  to  the  United  States  — 
the  naval  forces  to  the  naval  army  of  the 
French  king.  II.  The  artillery, munitions, 
stores,  etc.,  to  be  delivered  to  proper  offi 
cers  appointed  to  receive  them.  III.  The 
two  redoubts  captured  on  the  16th  to  be 
surrendered,  one  to  the  Americans,  the 
other  to  the  French  troops.  The  garrison 
at  York  to  march  out  at  two  o'clock,  with 
shouldered  arms,  colors  cased,  and  drums 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


SURRENDER  OF  LORD  CORNWALLIS. 


919 


beating ;  there  to  lay  down  their  arms, 
and  return  to  their  encampment.  The 
works  on  the  Gloucester  side  to  be  deliv 
ered  to  the  Americans  and  French  ;  the 
garrison  to  lay  down  their  arms  at  three 
o'clock.  IV.  The  officers  to  retain  their 
side-arms,  papers,  and  private  property. 
Also,  the  property  of  loyalists  found  in 
the  garrison  to  be  retained.  V.  The  sol 
diers  to  be  kept  in  Virginia,  Maryland, 
and  Pennsylvania,  and  to  be  subsisted  by 
the  Americans.  British,  Anspach,  and  Hes 
sian  officers,  allowed  to  be  quartered  near 
them,  and  supply  them  with  clothing  and 
necessities.  VI.  The  officers  allowed  to 
go  on  parole  to  Europe,  or  to  any  part  of 
the  American  confederacy ;  proper  ves 
sels  to  be  granted  by  Count  de  Grasse  to 
convey  them,  under  flags  of  truce,  to  New 
York,  within  ten  days,  if  they  choose ; 
passports  to  be  granted  to  those  who  go 
by  land.  VII.  Officers  allowed  to  keep 
soldiers  as  servants ;  and  servants,  not 
soldiers,  not  to  be  considered  prisoners. 
VIII.  The  Bonetta  to  be  under  the  entire 
control  of  Cornwallis,  to  go  to  New  York 
with  despatches,  and  then  to  be  delivered 
to  Count  de  Grasse.  IX.  Traders  not  con 
sidered  close  prisoners-of-wrar,  but  on  pa 
role,  and  allowed  three  months  to  dispose 
of  their  property,  or  remove  it.  X.  Loy 
alists  not  to  be  punished  on  account  of 
having  joined  the  British  army.  (Con 
sidering  this  matter  to  be  of  a  civil  char 
acter,  Washington  would  not  assent  to  the 
article.)  XI.  Proper  hospitals  to  be  fur 
nished  for  the  sick  and  wounded,  they  to 
be  attended  by  the  British  surgeons.  XII. 
Wagons  to  be  furnished,  if  possible,  for 
carrying  the  baggage  of  officers  attending 


the  soldiers,  and  of  the  hospital-surgeons 
when  travelling  on  account  of  the  sick. 

XIII.  The  shipping  and  boats  in  the  two 
harbors,  with  all  their  appendages,  arms, 
and  stores,  to  be  delivered  up  unimpaired 
after  the  private  property  was  unloaded. 

XIV.  No  article  of  the  capitulation  to  be 
infringed  on  pretext  of  reprisal ;  and  a 
fair  interpretation  to  be  given,  according 
to  the  common  meaning  and  acceptation 
of  words. 

These  articles  were  signed,  on  the  part 
of  the  British,  by  Lord  Cornwallis,  and  by 
Thomas  Symonds,  the  naval  commander 
in  York  river ;  on  the  part  of  the  allied 
armies,  by  Washington,  Rochambeau,  De 
Barras,  and  De  Grasse. 

The  ceremony  of  the  surrender  present 
ed  a  scene  of  imposing  interest.  News 
of  the  defeat  and  expected  capitulation 
of  the  British  earl  had  spread  throughout 
the  adjoining  country,  and  the  inhabit 
ants  by  thousands  flocked  to  the  allied 
camp.  Doctor  Thacher,  who  was  an  eye 
witness,  estimated  that  the  spectators  on 
the  occasion  w7ere  in  number  equal  to  the 
military  who  were  to  capitulate. 

General  Lincoln  was  appointed  by  the 
commander-in-chief  to  conduct  the  sur 
render,  which  was  upon  the  same  terms 
as  those  prescribed  to  that  officer  the  pre 
vious  year  at  the  capitulation  of  Charles 
ton.  Lincoln  doubtless  felt  a  natural  sat 
isfaction  in  being  thus  made  the  instru 
ment  in  this  "humiliation  of  those  who 
had  made  him  pass  under  the  }roke." 

At  about  twelve  o'clock,  the 
combined  army  was  drawn  up  in 
two  lines,  extending  more  than  a  mile  in 
length.     The  Americans  were  posted  on 


Oct.  19. 


920 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PA TIT  IT. 


the  right  side  of  the  road  leading  from 
York  town  to  Hampton,  and  the  French 
on  the  left.  At  the  head  of  the  former, 
Washington,  mounted  on  his  noble  steed, 
took  his  station,  attended  by  his  aids-de 
camp.*  At  the  head  of  the  latter  was 
the  count  de  Kochambeau,  on  a  splendid 
bay  horse,  accompanied  by  his  suite.  The 
French  troops,  in  complete  uniform,  pre 
sented  a  martial  appearance.  The  Ameri 
cans,  too,  though  not  all  in  uniform,  and 
many  of  them  shabbily  clothed,  exhibited 
a  soldierlike  bearing.  The  immense  crowd 
of  spectators  looked  on  in  silence,  but  with 
a  manifest  expression  of  joy  on  their  faces. 
It  is  also  related  that  when  the  British 
soldiers  were  about  to  march  out  and  lay 
down  their  arms,  Washington  said  to  his 
troops,  "  My  boys,  let  there  be  no  insults 
over  a  conquered  foe  !  When  they  lay 
down  their  arms,  don't  huzza:  posterity 
tvill  huzza  for  you  /" 

At  two  o'clock,  the  captive  army  came 
out  of  the  intrenchments,  and  began  to 
advance  between  the  lines  of  the  allies. 
Every  eye  gazed  eagerly  upon  that  pro 
cession,  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  renowned 
and  long-dreaded  Cormvallis,  the  terror 
of  the  South,  in  this  the  hour  of  his  ad 
versity  ;  but  all  were  destined  to  disap- 

"  On  the  day  of  the  surrender,  the  commander-in-rhief 
rode  his  favorite  and  splendid  charger,  named  Nelson,  a  light 
sorrel,  sixteen  hands  high,  with  white  face  and  legs,  and  re 
markable  as  being  the  first  'nicked'  horse  seen  in  America. 
This  famous  charger  died  at  Mount  Vernon  many  years  af 
ter  the  Revolution,  at  a  very  advanced  age.  After  the  chief 
had  ceased  to  mount  him,  he  was  never  ridden,  but  grazed 
in  a  paddock  in  summer;  and  was  well  cared  for  in  winter; 
and  as  often  as  the  retired  farmer  of  Mount  Vernon  would 
be  making  a  tour  of  his  grounds,  he  would  halt  at  the  pud- 
dock,  when  the  old  war-horse  would  run,  neighing,  to  the 
fence,  proud  to  be  caressed  by  the  great  muster's  hands."— 
CUSTIS'S  Recollections  of  Washington. 


pointment.  His  lordship,  who  so  often 
had  boldly  confronted  the  Americans  in 
battle,  lacked  the  courage  to  meet  them 
on  this  day  of  their  triumph.  Despond 
ing  and  humiliated,  the  earl,  affecting  in 
disposition,  appointed  General  0'ILira  to 
deliver  up  his  sword  to  Washington,  and 
to  conduct  the  vanquished  army  to  the 
place  of  surrender.  O'Hara,  handsomely 
mounted,  walked  his  horse  at  the  head  of 
the  column  of  conquered  troops,  as  they 
moved  slowly  along  with  shouldered  arms, 
colors  cased,  and  drums  beating  a  British 
march.  On  observing  Washington,  how 
ever,  he  immediately  rode  up  to  where 
the  chief  was  standing,  in  order  to  pre 
sent  the  sword  of  his  superior,  and,  taking 
off  his  hat,  apologized  for  the  absence  of 
Lord  Cormvallis.  Washington  courteous 
ly  referred  him  for  directions  to  General 
Lincoln,  who  took  the  sword  from  O'Hara, 
and  then  politely  handed  it  back,  to  be 
returned  to  the  earl.  The  British  troops 
wrere  now  conducted  by  Lincoln  into  a 
spacious  field  which  had  been  selected  for 
them  to  ground  their  arms. 

As  they  advanced,  "it  was  remarked 
that  the  British  soldiers  looked  only  tow 
ard  the  French  army  on  the  left,  whose 
appearance  was  assuredly  more  brilliant 
than  that  of  the  Americans,  though  the 
latter  were  respectable  in  both  their  cloth 
ing  and  appointments  ;  while  their  admi 
rable  discipline,  and  the  hardy  and  vet 
eran  appearance  of  both  officers  and  men, 
showed  they  were  no  'carpet-knights,'  but 
soldiers  who  had  seen  service,  and  were 
inured  to  war. 

"  Lafayette,  at  the  head  of  his  division, 
observing  that  the  captives  confined  their 


REVOLUTIONARY.]         DELIVERY  OF  THE  ARMS  AND  STANDARDS. 


921 


admiration  exclusively  to  the  French  ar 
my,  neglecting  his  darling  light-infantry, 
the  very  apple  of  his  eye  and  pride  of  his 
heart,  determined  to  bring  '  eyes  to  the 
right.'  He  ordered  his  nmsic  to  strike  np 
Yankee  Doodle.  '  Then/  said  the  good  gen 
eral,  l  they  did  look  at  us,  my  dear  sir,  but 
were  not  very  well  pleased.'"* 

The  royal  army  was  in  bright  array. 
Every  soldier  wore  a  new  uniform,  for 
Cornwallis  had  opened  his  stores  and  sup 
plied  each  man  with  a  new  suit  just  be 
fore  the  capitulation.  "  But  in  their  line 
of  march,"  says  Thacher,  "  we  remarked  a 
disorderly  and  an  unsoldierlike  conduct; 
their  step  was  irregular,  and  their  ranks 
frequently  broken.  But  it  was  in  the 
field,  when  they  came  to  the  last  act  of 
the  drama,,  that  the  spirit  and  pride  of 
the  British  soldier  was  put  to  the  severest 
test ;  here  their  mortification  could  not  be 
concealed.  Some  of  the  platoon-officers 
appeared  to  be  exceedingly  chagrined 
when  giving  the  word  '  Ground  arms!'  and 
I  am  a  witness  that  they  performed  this 
duty  in  a  very  unofficerlike  manner;  and 
that  many  of  the  soldiers  manifested  a 
sullen  temper,  throwing  their  arms  on  the 
pile  with  violence,  as  if  determined  to  ren 
der  them  useless.  This  irregularity,  how 
ever,  was  checked  by  the  authority  of 
General  Lincoln." 

"  When  ordered  to  ground  arms,"  says 
Custis,  "the  Hessian  was  content.  He 
was  tired  of  the  war ;  his  pipe  and  his  pa 
tience  pretty  well  exhausted,  he  longed 
to  bid  adieu  to  toilsome  marches,  battles, 
and  the  heat  of  the  climate  that  consumed 
him.  Not  so  the  British  soldier:  many 

*  Custis's  Recollections  of  Washington. 
116 


threw  their  arms  to  the  ground  in  sullen 
despair.  One  fine  veteran  fellow  displayed 
a  soldierly  feeling  that  excited  the  admi 
ration  of  all  around.  He  hugged  his  mus 
ket  to  his  bosom,  gazed  tenderly  on  it, 
pressed  it  to  his  lips,  then  threw  it  from 
him,  and  marched  away  dissolved  in  tears." 

One  of  the  most  painful  events  to  the 
captives  wras  the  surrender  of  the  twen 
ty-eight  regimental  flags.  For  this  pur 
pose,  twenty-eight  British  captains,  each 
bearing  a  flag  in  a  case,  were  drawn  up 
in  line.  Opposite  to  them,  at  a  distance 
of  six  paces,  twenty-eight  American  ser 
geants  were  placed  to  receive  the  colors, 
and  an  ensign  was  appointed  by  Colonel 
Hamilton,  the  officer  of  the  day,  to  con 
duct  the  ceremony.  When  the  ensign 
gave  an  order  for  the  captains  to  advance 
two  paces,  and  the  American  sergeants  to 
advance  two  paces,  the  former  hesitated, 
saying  that  they  were  unwilling  to  sur 
render  their  flags  to  non-commissioned 
officers.  Hamilton,  sitting  upon  his  horse 
at  a  distance,  observed  this  hesitation  ;  he 
rode  up,  and,  when  informed  of  the  diffi 
culty,  ordered  the  ensign  to  receive  all 
the  colors,  and  hand  them  over  to  the  ser 
geants. 

This  ceremony  being  concluded,  and 
the  arms  and  accoutrements  laid  down, 
the  ca.ptive  troops  were  conducted  back 
to  their  lines,  under  a  sufficient  guard. 
The  number  of  men  thus  surrendered  as 
prisoners  amounted  to  seven  thousand 
and  seventy-three,  of  whom  five  thousand 
nine  hundred  and  fifty  were  rank  and  file. 
These,  added  to  two  thousand  sailors,  fif 
teen  hundred  tories,  and  eighteen  hun 
dred  negroes,  made  the  total  British  loss 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PATCT    II. 


nearly  twelve  thousand.  Their  loss  du 
ring  the  siege  in  killed,  wounded,  and  mis 
sing,  was  five  hund red  and  fi  fty  two.  The 
allied  force  consisted  of  about  seven  thou 
sand  regular  American  troops,  more  than 
five  thousand  French,  and  four  thousand 
militia,  forming  a  total  of  sixteen  thou 
sand.  The  loss  of  the  allies  in  the  siege 
was  only  about  three  hundred.  The  ar 
tillery,  and  military  stores  and  provision 
surrendered  by  the  British,  were  of  very 
considerable  amount.  There  were  sev 
enty-five  brass  and  one  hundred  and  sixty 
iron  cannon ;  seven  thousand  seven  hun 
dred  and  ninety-four  muskets ;  twenty- 
eight  regimental  standards  (ten  of  them 
English,  and  eighteen  German) ;  a  great 
quantity  of  mortars,  bombs,  cannon  and 
musket  balls,  carriages,  etc.  The  military 
chest  contained  nearly  eleven  thousand 
dollars  in  specie. 

"  The  day  after  the  surrender," 
says  Custis,  "  Earl  Cornwallis  re 
paired  to  headquarters  to  pay  his  respects 
to  General  Washington  and  await  his  or 
ders.  The  captive  chief  was  received  with 
all  the  courtesy  due  to  a  gallant  and  un 
fortunate  foe.  The  elegant  manners,  to 
gether  with  the  manly,  frank,  and  soldier 
ly  bearing  of  Cornwallis,  soon  made  him 
a  prime  favorite  at  headquarters,  and  he 
often  formed  part  of  the  suite  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  in  his  rides  to  inspect  the 
levelling  of  the  works  previous  to  the  re 
tirement  of  the  combined  armies  from  be 
fore  Yorktown. 

"  At  the  grand  dinner  given  at  head 
quarters  to  the  officers  of  the  three  ar 
mies,  Washington  filled  his  glass,  and,  af 
ter  his  invariable  toast,  whether  in  peace 


Oct.  20, 


or  war,  of  'All  our  friends]  gave  '  The  Brit 
ish  army  I  with  some  complimentary  re 
marks  upon  its  chief,  his  proud  career  in 
arms,  and  his  gallant  defence  of  York- 
town.  When  it  came  to  Cornwallis's  turn, 
he  prefaced  his  toast  by  saying  that  the 
war  was  virtually  at  an  end,  and  the  con 
tending  parties  would  soon  embrace  as 
friends ;  there  might  be  affairs  of  posts, 
but  nothing  on  a  more  enlarged  scale,  as 
it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  the 
ministry  would  send  another  army  to 
America.  Then,  turning  to  Washington, 
his  lordship  continued:  'And  when  the 
illustrious  part  that  your  excellency  has 
borne  in  this  long  and  arduous  contest 
becomes  matter  of  history,  fame  will  gath 
er  your  brightest  laurels  rather  from  the 
banks  of  the  Delaware  than  from  those 
of  the  Chesapeake.'  — 

"Colonel  Tarleton,  alone  of  all  the  Brit 
ish  officers  of  rank,  was  left  out  in  the  in 
vitations  to  headquarters.  Gallant  and 
high-spirited,  the  colonel  applied  to  the 
marquis  de  Lafayette  to  know  whether 
the  neglect  might  not  have  been  acci 
dental.  Lafayette  well  knew  that  acci 
dent  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter, 
but  referred  the  applicant  to  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Laurens,  who,  as  aid-de-camp  to 
the  commander-in-chief,  must  of  course 
be  able  to  give  the  requisite  explanation. 
Laurens  at  once  said  :  '  No,  Colonel  Tarle 
ton,  no  accident  at  all ;  intentional,  I  can 
assure  you,  and  meant  as  a  reproof  for 
certain  cruelties  practised  by  the  troops 
under  your  command  in  the  campaigns 
of  the  Carolinas.' — 'What,  sir!'  haughti 
ly  rejoined  Tarleton,  '  and  is  it  for  severi 
ties  inseparable  from  war,  which  you  are 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


THE  JOYFUL  NEWS  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 


923 


pleased  to  term  cruelties,  that  I  am  to  be 
disgraced  before  junior  officers  ?  Is  it,  sir, 
for  a  faithful  discharge  of  my  duty  to  my 
king  and  my  country,  that  I  am  thus  hu 
miliated  in  the  eyes  of  three  armies?'  — 
'Pardon  me/  continued  Colonel  Laurens, 
( there  are  modes,  sir,  of  discharging  a  sol 
dier's  duty  ;  and  where  mercy  has  a  share 
in  the  mode,  it  renders  the  duty  the  more 
acceptable  to  both  friends  and  foes.'  Tarle- 
ton  stalked  gloomily  away  to  his  quarters, 
which  he  seldom  left  until  his  departure 
from  Virginia.* 

"  Upon  the  surrender  of  the  post  of 
Gloucester,  Colonel  Tarleton,  knowing 
himself  to  be  particularly  obnoxious  to 
the  Americans  from  his  conduct  in  the 
South,  requested  a  guard  for  his  person. 
This  was  afterward  dispensed  with  ;  but 
he  was  destined  to  be  sadly  humiliated 
upon  his  arrival  in  York  town,  being  dis 
mounted  in  the  street  from  a  beautiful 
blood-horse  that  was  claimed  by  a  Vir 
ginian  gentleman  as  his  property.  The 
colonel  was  on  his  way  to  dine  with  the 
baron  de  Viomenil ;  and,  but  for  a  French 
officer  who  was  passing,  dismounting  an 
orderly,  and  giving  his  steed  to  the  unfor 
tunate  colonel,  this  celebrated  cavalier, 
badly  calculated  for  a  pedestrian,  from  a 
defect  in  one  of  his  feet,  must  have  trudged 
it  to  the  baron's  quarters,  a  distance  of 
more  than  a  mile." 

In  the  orders  of  the  day  suc 
ceeding  the  capitulation,  Wash- 

*  On  his  return  to  England,  the  inhabitants  of  his  native 
city  (Liverpool)  elected  him  their  representative  in  the  house 
of  commons.  In  1798  he  married  the  daughter  of  the  duke 
of  Ancaster,  and  in  1817  became  a  major-general  in  the  Brit 
ish  army.  Upon  the  coronation  of  George  IV.,  in  1821), 
General  Tarleton  was  created  a  baronet,  lie  died  in  1833, 
ut  the  age  of  seventy-nine  years. 


Oct.  20, 


ington  expressed  his  approbation  of  the 
conduct  of  both  armies,  making  special 
mention  of  several  officers,  among  whom 
were  Knox  and  Du  Porta.il,  of  the  artille 
ry,  who  were  each  promoted  to  the  rank 
of  major-general.  Thanks  were  also  ren 
dered  to  Governor  Nelson;  and,  that  ev 
ery  one  might  share  in  the  general  joy, 
all  offenders  under  arrest  were  ordered  to 
be  set  at  liberty.  Washington  closed  his 
order  with  a  notice  that  on  the  morrow 
(which  was  the  sabbath)  divine  service 
would  be  held  in  the  several  brigades  and 
divisions;  and  he  earnestly  recommended 
that  the  troops,  not  on  duty,  should  uni 
versally  attend,  "  with  that  seriousness  of 
deportment  and  gratitude  of  heart  which 
the  recognition  of  such  reiterated  and  as 
tonishing  interpositions  of  Providence  de 
manded  of  them." 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Tilghman  was  sent 
express  to  Philadelphia  with  Washington's 
despatches  to  Congress,  and,  as  he  spread 
intelligence  of  the  great  event  on  his  way, 
the  country  became  vocal  with  rejoicings. 
It  was  midnight  when  he  entered  Phila 
delphia.  He  made  his  way  directly  to  the 
house  of  President  M'Kean,  and  delivered 
his  despatches.  Soon  afterward  the  whole 
city  was  in  commotion.  The  watchmen 
everywhere  in  proclaiming  the  hour,  add 
ed,  in  loud  voices,  "and  Cornwallis  islaJccn  /"* 
That  annunciation,  ringing  out  upon  the 
frosty  night-air,  aroused  thousands  from 
their  beds.  Lights  were  soon  seen  mov 
ing  in  every  house  ;  and  before  daylight 
the  streets  were  thronged  with  people. 
Anxiously  they  had  awaited  this  hoped- 
for  intelligence  from  Yorktown,  and  now 

*  Lossing. 


924 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  IT. 


Oct.  24, 


their  joy  was  complete.  The  old  state- 
house  bell  rang  out  its  notes  of  gladness, 
and  the  first  blush  of  the  morning  was 
greeted  with  the  roar  of  cannon. 

o 

At  an  early  hour  Congress  assembled, 
and  the  members  of  that  grave  body  were 
highly  excited  when  Secretary  Thompson 
read  Washington's  despatches.  During 
the  reading  they  could  scarcely  repress 
huzzas;  and  at  its  conclusion  they  resolved 
to  go  in  procession  at  two  o'clock 
that  day,  "and  return  thanks  to 
Almighty  God  for  crowning  the  allied  ar 
mies  of  the  United  States  and  France  with 
success."  The  thanks  of  Congress  were 
presented  to  Washington,  Rochambeau, 
and  De  Grasse,  and  the  officers  and  men 
under  their  respective  commands.  They 
also  resolved  that  two  stands  of  colors* 
taken  from  Cornwallis  should  be  present 
ed  to  Washington,  in  the  name  of  the 
United  States;  that  two  pieces  of  the  field- 

*  "I  found  in  the  Philadelphia  Sunday  Despatch,"  says 
Mr.  Losing,  "in  one  of  a  series  of  articles  on  the  'History 
of  Clifstmit  Street,'  from  the  pen  of  one  of  the  editors,  the  fol 
lowing  extract  from  an  old  paper,  entitled  the  'A/lied  Mer 
cury,  or  Independent  Intelligencer,'  of  the  date  of  5th  Novem 
ber,  1781,  which  relates  to  the  British  banners  surrendered 
at  Yorktown  :" — 

"On  Saturday  last  (November  3,  1781),  between  three 
and  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  arrived  here  twenty-four 
standards  of  colors  taken  witli  the  British  army  under  the 
command  of  Earl  Cornwallis.  The  volunteer  cavalry  of  this 
city  received  these  trophies  of  victory  at  Schuylkill,  from 
whence  they  escorted  and  ushered  them  into  town  amidst 
the  acclamations  of  a  numerous  concourse  of  people.  Con 
tinental  and  French  colors,  at  a  distance,  preceded  the  Brit- 
i.-h,  and  thus  they  were  paraded  down  Market  street  to  the 
statchouse.  They  were  then  carried  into  Congress  and  laid 
at  their  feet. 

The  crow.l  exulting,  fills  with  shouts  the  sky  ; 
The  walls,  the  woods,  and  long  canals,  reply: 
'Base,  Britons!  tyrant  Britons!  knock  under  — 
Taken's  your  earl,  soldiers,  and  plunder. 
Huzza!  what  colors  of  the  bloody  foe,, 
Twenty-lour  in  number,  at  the  slaleliouse  door  ! 
Look:  they  are,  British  standards;  how  they  fall 
At  the  president's  feet,  Congress  and  all !'  » 


Oct.  19, 


ordnance  captured  at  York  should  be  pre 
sented  to  each  of  the  French  commanders, 
Rochambeau  and  De  Grasse  ;  that  a  horse 
should  be  presented  to  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Tilghman  by  the  board  of  war, in  the 
name  of  the  United  States;  and  that  a 
marble  column  should  be  erected  at  York- 
town,  in  commemoration  of  the  surrender. 
Congress  likewise  appointed  the  30th  of 
December  as  a  day  of  general  thanksgiv 
ing  and  prayer  throughout  the  Union. 

On  the  very  day  of  Earl  Corn- 
wallis's  surrender  at  Yorktown, 
the  British  fleet  of  twenty-five  ships-of- 
the-line,  two  fifties,  and  eight  frigates,  un- 

J  '  O  O 

der  Admiral  Graves,  sailed  from  New  York 
with  Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  seven  thou 
sand  of  his  choicest  troops  on  board.  On 
reaching  the  capes  of  Virginia,  they  stood 
of!'  the  mouth  of  the  Chesapeake  until  the 
29th,  when,  finding  that  it  was  too  late  to 
be  of  any  service  to  Cornwallis,  they  re 
turned  to  New  York. 

After  the  surrender  of  Yorktown,  Wash 
ington  strove  to  persua.de  De  Grasse  to 
co-operate  with  General  Greene  in  an  ex 
pedition  against  Charleston  or  Wilming 
ton.  The  French  admiral,  however,  re 
fused  compliance,  on  the  ground  of  differ 
ent  orders  from  his  government*  The 

*  FRANCOIS  JOSEPH  PAUL,  Count  de  Grasse,  a  .native  of 
France,  was  born  in  1723.  He  was  the  junior,  in  service, 
of  Count  de  Barms,  but  was  made  his  superior  in  command, 
with  the  title  of  lieutenant-general.  His  flag-ship,  the  Ville 
de  Paris,  was  a  present  from  the  city  of  Paris  to  Louis  XVI. 
She  rated  a  hundred  and  ten  guns,  and  carried  thirteen  hun 
dred  men.  "  On  her  arrival  in  the  Chesapeake,"  savs  Cus- 
tis,  "  flowers  and  tropical  plants  were  interspersed  upon  her 
quarter-deck,  amid  the  engines  of  war;  while  her  sides,  cov 
ered  with  bright  varnish,  gave  to  this  superb  vessel  a  most 
brilliant  and  imposing  appearance."  On  the  5th  of  Novem 
ber,  De  Grasse  left  the  Chesapeake  for  the  West  Indies.  On 
the  12th  of  April,  1782,  he  was  attacked  and  totally  defeated 
by  Admiral  Kodney.  The  Ville  de  Paris  was  reduced  al- 


REVOLUTIONARY.] 


CLOSE  OF  THE  WAR. 


925 


American  army  (with  the  exception  of  a 
body  of  men  under  General  St.  Clair,  who 
marched  southward  to  reinforce  Greene) 
set  out  for  the  North,  leaving  Count  de 
Rochambeau  and  three  thousand  French 
troops  at  Williamsburg,  in  Virginia. 

Within  a  fortnight,  York  town  was  evac 
uated  by  both  victors  and  vanquished.  A 
portion  of  the  prisoners  were  removed  to 
Winchester,  in  Virginia,  and  some  to  Fort 
Frederick  and  Fredericktown,  in  Mary 
land.  The  latter  were  finally  marched  to 
Lancaster,  in  Pennsylvania,  and  guarded 
by  continental  troops.  The  favor  grant 
ed  to  Lord  Cornwallis,  of  being  allowed 
to  send  the  Bonetta  sloop-of-war  to  New 
York  unsearched,  gave  his  lordship  an  op 
portunity  of  sending  off  a  number  of  to- 
ries  to  the  protection  of  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton,  as  he  could  not  prevail  upon  his  con 
querors  to  guaranty  their  safety.  The 
earl  himself/'"-  with  other  British  officers, 

most  to  a  wreck  by  the  Canada,  commanded  by  Captain 
Cornwallis,  brother  of  the  earl,  who  seemed  determined  to 
avenge  his  kinsman's  fate  at  Yorktown.  Still,  DC  Grasse 
refused  to  yield  to  any  ship  carrying  less  than  an  admiral's 
flag.  He  finally  struck  to  the  Barfleur,  of  ninety-eight  guns, 
commanded  by  Sir  Samuel  Hood,  having  but  two  men  left 
alive  on  the  quarter-deck !  Four  of  the  prizes  taken  by  the 
British  (the  Ville  de  Paris,  Centaur,  Glorieux,  and  Hector, 
and  the  English-built  ship  Ramilics)  foundered  at  sea.  On 
arriving  at  Portsmouth,  the  English  sailors  mounted  De 
Grasse  on  their  shoulders,  and  carried  him  in  triumph  to  his 
lodgings.  His  later  years  were  unhappy,  through  the  bad 
conduct  of  his  second  wife  and  the  neglect  of  the  king.  He 
died  early  in  1788,  aged  sixty-five  years. 

*  CHARLES,  marquis  of,  and  son  of  the  first  Earl  CORN 
WALLIS,  was  born  in  1738,  and  entered  the  army  as  soon  as 
he  had  completed  his  education  at  Cambridge.  In  America, 
as  we  have  seen,  he  acted  a  conspicuous  part.  In  178G,  he 
was  made  governor-general  and  commander  in-chief  in  India. 
In  1798,  he  was  sent  to  Ireland  as  lord-lieutenant;  and,  in 
tlin  trying  and  terrible  scenes  of  the  rebellion,  he  so  con 
ducted  himself  as  to  gain  the  good  opinion  of  the  public, 
while  vigorously  upholding  and  vindicating  the  laws.  In 
1804,  he  was  a  second  time  appointed  governor-general  of 
India.  He  died  the  following  year,  aged  sixty-seven. 


went  by  sea  to  New  York,  on  parole,  and 
were  finally  all  exchanged/1"-  Soon  after 
ward,  Henry  Laurens  was  liberated  from 
the  Tower  of  London,  and  exchanged  foi 
General  Burgoyne,  who,  though  at  large 
in  England,  and  constantly  debating  in 
the  house  of  commons  against  the  minis 
try,  was  still  held  as  a  prisoner  on  parole. 
The  success  of  the  allies  at  Yorktown 
virtually  closed  the  war.  No  one  doubt 
ed  that  the  United  States  had  not  only 
won  its  independence,  but  the  tardy  ac 
knowledgment  of  it  from  Great  Britain. 
A  treaty  of  peace  was  not  signed,  howev 
er,  until  the  begrinnino;  of  1783, 

JAH<  20« 
the  British  retaining  their  hold 

upon  New  York  until  the  25th  of  Novem 
ber  following,  although  not  an  action  oc 
curred  in  the  meantime  (excepting  the 
campaign  in  South  Carolina,  already  de 
tailed)  of  sufficient  moment  to  deserve  a 
record  among  the  "  BATTLES  OF  AMERICA."* 
Our  narrative,  therefore  of  the  Revolu 
tionary  War,  closes  with  the  decisive  tri 
umph  of  Washington  over  Cornwallis,  the 
greatest  of  the  English  generals. 

*  The  operations  of  the  American  navy,  afror  the  exploits 
of  Paul  Jones  (who  had  been  made  a  rear-admiral  in  tho 
Russian  service},  were  so  limited,  that  we  need  give  them 
but  a  passing  notice.  In  June,  1780,  the  twenty-eight  gun 
ship  Trumbull,  commanded  by  Captain  Nicholson,  attacked 
the  British  ship  Watt,  of  much  greater  force,  and  was  dis 
abled,  but  not  captured.  She  lost  thirty-two  in  killed  and 
wounded ;  the  enemy  ninety-two.  In  October,  the  sixteen- 
gun  sloop  Saratoga,  Captain  Young,  captured  a  British  ship 
and  two  brigs,  but,  while  convoying  them  into  port,  was  over 
taken  by  the  Intrepid,  a  seventy-four,  and  the  prizes  were 
retaken.  The  Saratoga  escaped.  On  the  2d  of  April,  1781, 
the  Alliance,  Captain  Barry,  captured  two  Guernsey  priva 
teers  ;  and,  soon  after,  she  captured  two  British  men-of-war, 
one  of  which  was  retaken  on  its  wny  to  America.  In  June, 
the  Confederacy,  Captain  Harding,  was  taken  by  two  armed 
British  vessels  In  August,  the  Trumbull  was  captured  by 
three  British  cruisers  off  the  Delaware  capes  ;  and  on  the  6th 
of  September,  the  Congress,  Captain  Geddes,  captured  the 
British  ship  Savage,  but  the  prize  was  subsequently  retaken. 


926 


BATTLES  OF  AMERICA. 


[PART  it. 


NOV.  27, 


In  England,  the  intelligence  of  the  ca 
pitulation  of  Yorktown  produced  a  pow 
erful  effect,  and  greatly  perplexed  the 
kinn;  and  his  ministers.  On  the 

O 

assembling  of  Parliament,  its  first 
business  was  a  consideration  of  American 
affairs.  News  of  Cornwallis's  surrender 
had  reached  the  ministry  at  noon  on  Sun 
day,  the  25th.  Wraxall,  in  his  Memoirs, 
says  he  asked  Lord  George  Germain  how 
Lord  North  "  took  the  communication." 
— "As  he  would  have  taken  a  cannon-ball 
in  his  breast,"  Lord  George  replied  ;  "  for 
he  opened  his  arms,  exclaiming  wildly,  as 
he  paced  up  and  down  the  apartment  for 
a  few  minutes, '  0  God!  it  is  all  over  T  — 
words  which  he  repeated  many  times,  un 
der  emotions  of  the  deepest  consternation 
and  distress." 

Violent  debates  upon  the  subject  im 
mediately  ensued  in  the  house  of  com 
mons,  and  Charles  James  Fox  even  went 
so  far  as  to  insinuate  that  Lord  North  was 
in  the  pay  of  the  French  !  The  minister 
indignantly  repelled  the  insinuation,  and 
vainly  attempted  to  defend  the  war  on 
the  ground  of  its  justice,  and  the  proper 
maintenance  of  British  rights.  Upon  this 
point,  however, he  was  fiercely  assailed  by 
Edmund  Burke,  who  exclaimed  :  "  Good 
God  !  are  we  yet  to  be  told  of  the  rights 
for  which  we  went  to  war  ?  0  excellent 
rights!  0  valuable  rights  !  Valuable  you 
should  be,  for  we  have  paid  dear  at  part 
ing  with  you.  0  valuable  rights!  that 


IVov,  30, 


have  cost  Britain  thirteen  provinces,  four 
islands,  one  hundred  thousand  men,  and 
more  than  seventy  millions  of  money  !" 
The  younger  Pitt  distinguished  himself 

in  this  debate  against  the  minis- 

„.  °... 

try.      Ihe  opposition  now  pro 

posed  the  bold  measure  (last  adopted  du- 
ing  the  Revolution  of  1688)  of  withhold 
ing  supplies  till  the  ministers  should  give 
a  pledge  that  the  war  in  America  should 
cease.  This  motion,  however,  was  lost  by 
a  vote  of  nearly  two  to  one.  But  every 
day  the  war  grew  more  and  more  unpop 
ular  in  England  ;  and  at  length  a  resolu 
tion  offered  in  the  new  Parliament  by  Gen 
eral  Conway,  in  February,  which 

j  '  j  j  1  7^9 

was  preliminary  to  an  act  ordering 
a  cessation  of  hostilities,  was  lost  by  only 
one  vote.  Encouraged  by  this,  the  oppo 
sition  urgently  pressed  the  subject  ;  and 
on  the  4th  of  March,  Conway  moved  that 
"  the  house  would  consider  as  enemies  to 
his  majesty  and  the  country  all  those  who 
should  advise,  or  by  any  means  attempt. 
the  further  prosecution  of  offensive  war 
on  the  continent  of  America."  This  reso 
lution  was  carried  without  a  division,  and 
the  next  day  a  plan  for  a  truce  with  the 
Americans  was  introduced  by  the  attor 
ney-general.  After  an  administration  of 
twelve  years,  Lord  North  now  resigned 
the  seals  of  office.  Orders  were  accord 
ingly  issued  to  the  respective  British  mil 
itary  and  naval  commanders  in  America 
for  a  cessation  of  hostilities. 


END     OF      PART     II. 


INDEX. 


927 


INDEX. 

COLONIAL  AND  REVOLUTIONARY. 


ABETCCROMBIE,  Col.,  makes  a  sortie  at  Yorktown,  915. 

Abercrombie,  Major-Gen.,  at  Albany,  in  1756  and 
1758,  9'J,  10-!  ;  his  expedition  against  Ticonderoga, 
104  ;  his  defeat  and  retreat  to  Fort  Edward,  105. 

Acadians,  expulsion  of,  from  Nova  Scotia,  in  1755,  90. 

Ackland,  Lady  Harriet,  with  her  husband  in  Bur- 
goyne's  army,  542 ;  visits  her  husband  in  the 
American  camp,  564 ;  her  kind  reception  by  Gates, 
565  ;  subsequent  history  of  (not!'},  530. 

Ackland,  Major,  jit  the  second  battle  of  Bemis' 
Heights,  558  ;  death  of  (not"),  566. 

Adams,  John,  nominates  Washington  as  commander- 
in-chii'f,  157  ;  anecdote  told  by,  of  Franklin,  344  ; 
conversation  of,  with  Lord  Howe,  345,  34(5. 

Adam:;,  Mrs.,  describes  the  cannonades  at  the  siege  of 
Boston,  246,  249. 

Adams  Samuel,  an  early  friend  of  the  popular 
cause  in  Boston,  141. 

Agnew,  Gen.,  in  the  expedition  to  Danbnry,  464. 

Aix-la-Chapelle,  Cape  Breton  and  Louisburg  ceded  to 
France  by  the  treaty  of,  in  1748,  32. 

Alden,  Col.  Ichabod,  his  negligence  at  the  defense  of 
Cherry  Valley,  in  1778,  677. 

Alfred  and  Raleigh,  American  frigates,  cruise  of,  593. 

Alfred,  American  frigate,  captured  by  the  British,  666. 

Allen,  a  clergyman,  at  the  battle  of  Bennington,  521. 

Allen,  Ethan,  capture  of  Ticonderoga  undertaken  by, 
15-5  ;  a  favorite  with  the  "  Green-Mountain  Boys," 
155  ;  Ic-tt'-r  of,  to  the  provincial  congress  of  New 
York,  195  ;  superseded  in  command— employed  to 
rais3  recruits  in  Canada — his  attempt  on  Montreal, 
199  ;  made  prisoner  by  the  British  and  sent  to 
England,  200  ;  his  abuse  of  his  jailers,  442  ;  visit 
of,  to  Valley  Forge,  and  his  return  to  Vermont,  618. 

Alliance,  an  American  frigate,  put  at  the  disposal  of 
Lafayette  when  returning  to  France  in  1779 — diffi 
culty  in  finding  a  crew — conspiracy  t:>  mutiny  dis 
covered  on  board,  680  ;  in  the,squadron  of  Paul 
Jones  in  1779,  702  ;  with  the  Bon  Ilomme  Richard 
during  her  action  with  the  Serapis,  708. 

"American  Turtle,"  attempt  made  by  means  of,  to 
sink  the  ship  Eagle,  318  :  sunk  in  the  Hudson  by 
the  British,  371. 

I—  a 


Amherst,  Lord,  his  expedition  against  Louisburg,  100, 
102  ;  takes  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point — retreats 
from  Montreal.  1<  7 ;  on  Lake  Ontario  and  the 
St.  Lawrence,  133  ;  Montreal  surrendered  to,  134. 

Anderson,  Mr. ,  his  plan  for  the  destruction  of  Howe's 
fleet,  312  ;  plan  favored  by  Putnam,  314. 

Andre,  Major  John,  quartered  in  Franklin's  house  in 
Philadelphia — carries  off  portrait  of  Franklin,  605  ; 
theatrical  tastes  of,  60:>  ;  advances  made  by  Arnold 
to  Sir  II.  Clinton  through — assumed  name  of ,  Ju7tn 
Anderxon — biographical  notice  of,  761  ;  efforts  of, 
to  obtain  an  interview  with  Arnold,  763,  765  ;  visits 
Arnold,  767  ;  his  adventures  after  parting  with 
Arnold,  769  ;  captured  by  Cowboys,  772  ;  letter 
written  by,  to  Washington,  775  ;  removal  of,  from 
North  Salem,  781  ;  kind  treatment  of — efforts  made 
by  Sir  H.  Clinton  to  obtain  the  release  of,  782  ;  trial 
of — condemned  to  death — letter  written  by,  to  Sir 
H.  Clinton,  783  ;  conference  to  consider  the  case  of — 
letter  of  Arnold  to  Washington  in  favor  of,  785  ; 
letter  of,  to  Washington — Thacher's  account  of  the 
execution  of,  787  ;  remains  of,  removed  to  West 
minster  Abbey  in  1821 — testimony  of  Clinton  to  the 
character  of — feeling  of  sympathy  for,  788  ;  monu 
ment  erected  to  the  memory  of,  at  Tarrytown — 
captors  of,  rewarded  by  Congress,  789. 

Angell,  Col.,  bridge  over  the  Railway  at  Springfield 
defended  by,  750. 

Arbuthnot,  Admiral,  fleet  of,  sails  past  Fort  Moultrie 
into  Charleston  harbor,  724. 

Armstrong,  Col.  John,  destroys  Kittanning  in  1756, 
96. 

Armstrong,  Gen. ,  commands  the  American  left  wing 
at  the  battle  of  the  Brandy  wine,  531. 

Armstrong,  Major,  at  the  battle  of  Camden,  741. 

Armand,  Col.,  bad  conduct  of  the  cavalry  of,  at  the 
battle  of  Camden,  740. 

Army,  American,  necessity  for  the  reorganization  of, 
in  1776,  358  ;  bounties  offered  by  Congress  to 
encourage  enlistments  in  (note},  359. 

Arnold,  Benedict,  after  the  battle  of  Lexington,  150  ; 
his  anxiety  to  lead  the  expedition  against  Ticonder 
oga,  154  ;  enters  the  fort  with  Ethan  Allen,  155  ; 
St.  Johns  on  the  Sorel  captured  and  abandoned  by, 


928 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


156  ;  on  Lake  Cliamplain,  193  ;  superseded  in  com 
mand—his  disappointment  and  irritation — desires 
to  attempt  the  conquest  of  Canada,  194  ;  proposes 
an  expedition  against  Canada,  195 ;  expedition 
against  Canada  entrusted  to,  196  ;  his  progress 
from  the  Kenuebec  to  Quebec,  201-206  ;  letter  to 
Schuyler  intrusted  by,  to  an  Indian,  205  ;  arrives  at 
Point  Levi — his  approach  known  in  Quebec,  206  ; 
wounded  in  his  attack  on  Quebec,  213  ;  attempts  to 
blockade  Quebec — made  brigadier -general,  213  ; 
movements  of,  after  the  siirrender  of  Butterfield  at 
the  Cedars,  273  ;  convention  made  by,  for  an  ex 
change  of  prisoners,  274  ;  retreat  of,  from  Montreal 
— narrow  escape  of,  from  Burgoyne,  279  ;  fleet 
equipped  on  Lake  George  through  the  energy  of — 
difficulty  of,  with  the  goods  of  Montreal  merchants, 
365  ;  his  engagement  with  Carleton's  fleet  on  Lake 
Cliamplain,  367  ;  escape  of  his  fleet— pursued  and 
overtaken,  fights  again,  388  ;  abandons  his  vessels 
and  retires  to  Ticonderoga,  369  ;  sent  against  the 
British  on  Rhode  Island,  451;  name  of,  omitted  from 
the  list  of  major-generals,  454  ;  efforts  of  Washing 
ton  in  favor  of,  455  ;  attempts  to  intercept  Tryon,  on 
his  retreat  from  Danbury — narrow  escape  of,  467  ; 
appointed  major-general — horse  presented  to,  by 
Congress — letter  in  relation  to  his  wrongs — Richard 
II.  Lee  a  strong  friend  of,  469  ;  Washington  a  friend 
of,  470  ;  recommended  by  Washington  for  the  com 
mand  of  New  York  and  New  England  militia,  497  ; 
service  in  the  northern  army  accepted  by,  500  ;  move 
ments  of,  for  the  relief-  of  Fort  Schuyler — proclama 
tion  issued  by,  526  ;  exaggerated  stories  of  the  force 
under,  527  ;  goes  to  the  assistance  of  Gates,  528  ;  ac 
tivity  of,  at  Bemis'  heights,  540  ;  offended  at  Gates, 
548  ;  letters  of,  written  to  Gates,  546,  547  ;  his  resig 
nation  accepted  by  Gates,  547  ;  his  excitement  at  the 
battle  of  Bemis'  heights,  559  ;  command  at  West 
Point  obtained  by,  756  ;  history  of  the  treason  of,  757 
-780;  extravagant  style  of  living  of,  at  Philadelphia, 
758-759  ;  tried  by  court-martial — language  of  Wash 
ington's  reprimand  to — early  insight  into  the  char 
acter  of,  759  ;  exorbitant  claims  of — his  attempt  to 
obtain  a  loan  from  the  French  embassador,  760;  de 
tested  by  the  people  of  Philadelphia — opens  com 
munications  with  Sir  II.  Clinton,  761  ;  his  interview 
with  Major  Andre,  7(57  ;  price  demanded  by,  for  his 
treason  769  ;  receives  intelligence  of  the  capture  of 
Andre,  777  ;  escapes  on  board  the  Vulture,  778  ;  dis 
covery  of  his  treason  by  Washington — letter  writ 
ten  by  to  Washington,  exonerating  Mrs.  Arnold  and 
others,  779  ;  letters  written  by,  in  favor  of  Major 
Andre,  782,  786  ;  scheme  for  the  abduction  of,  786  ; 
proclamation  issued  by,  from  New  York,  789  ;  des 
pised  by  the  British  officers  and  soldiers,  79:)  ;  expe 
dition  against  Virginia  intrusted  to,  820  ;  reward 
offered  for  the  capture  of,  821  ;  plan  for  blockading, 
in  Portsmouth,  843  ;  his  escape  from  Lafayette  and 


De  Tilley,  844  ;  succeeds  to  the  chief  command  of 
the  British  forces  in  Virginia — what  an  American 
captain  said  would  be  done  with,  if  caught  (noti-) — 
returns  to  New  York,  846  ;  expedition  against  New 
London  intrusted  to,  905  ;  gratification  of,  at  the 
sight  of  New  London  in  flames — the  last  military 
service  of,  907  ;  publicly  insulted  in  England,  790  ; 
death  of,  in  obscurity,  791. 

Arnold,  Mrs  ,  parting  of  Arnold  with,  777  ;  letter  of 
Arnold  to  Washington,  requesting  kind  treatment 
for,  779  ;  entirely  innocent  of  her  husband's  treason, 
780  ;  little  sympathy  felt  for  in  Ph.ladelphia,  791. 

Asdumpink  creek,  encampment  of  Washington  on — 
arrival  of  the  British  at,  429  ;  critical  position  of 
Washington's  army  on,  430  ;  deception  practised  on 
the  British  at,  432. 

Atlee,  Col.,  taken  prisoner  at  the  battle  of  Long 
Island,  327. 

Augusta,  Ga.,  taken  possession  of  by  the  British,  688; 
surrender  of,  to  Gen  Pickens  and  Col.  Lee — Col. 
Griessoii  killed  at,  after  the  surrender  of,  864. 

B. 

BAIKD,  Sir  James,  attack  made  by,  upon  the  rear  of 
Gen.  11.  Howe's  forces,  near  Savannah,  687. 

Balcarras,  Lord,  gallantry  of,  displayed  at  Bemis' 
heights,  557,  559. 

Balfour,  Col.,  tyrannical  conduct  of,  in  Charleston, 
880. 

Ball,  Lieut.,  surrender  of,  to  the  French,  in  1756,  91. 

Baltimore,  Congress  adjourns  to  meet  at,  in  1776,  414. 

Barre,  Isaac,  in  Wolfe's  expedition  against  Quebec, 
109. 

Barren  hill,  skilful  retreat  of  Lafayette  from,  624. 

Barrett,  Col.,  at  Concord,  144  ;  the  bridge  at  Concord 
defended  by,  145. 

Barry,  Capt.,  exploits  of,  on  the  Delaware,  in  1778, 
623  ;  capture  of  the  Raleigh,  commanded  by,  671. 

Barry,  Major,  Simms'  account  of  the  capture  of,  89>). 

Barton,  Col.,  capture  of  Gen.  Prescott  by,  on  Rhode 
island — honors  and  rewards  received  by,  from  Con 
gress,  501. 

Basking  Ridge,  capture  of  Gen.  Lee  at,  410 

Baume,  Col.,  expedition  against  Bennington  command 
ed  by — instructions  of  Burgoyne  to,  518,  521,  522  ; 
letter  written  by,  to  Burgoyne,  519  ;  asks  reinforce 
ments  from  Burgoyne,  520  ;  deserted  by  his  Indians, 
521,  522  ;  attacked  in  his  intrenchments,  521  ;  his 
brave  defense — mortally  wounded,  5.2. 

Baxter,  Col.,  position  of,  in  the  defense  of  Fort  Wash 
ington,  389  ;  killed  in  the  attack,  390. 

Baylor,  Col.,  surprise  and  massacre  of  light-Lorse 
under,  674. 

Beaumarchais,  French  financial  agent,  620. 

Bellamy,  George  Anne,  anecdote  of  Braddock  told  by, 
52. 

B.'lleisle,  Count  de,  death  of,  at  Exilles,  95. 


I  AND  IT.] 


IN  DEX. 


929 


Bemis'  heights,  the  American  army  at,  537  ;  encamp 
ments  at,  538  ;  position  of  the  British  and  American 
forces  at,  53!)  ;  battle  at,  540  ;  victory  at,  claimed  by 
Burgoyne,  542  ;  the  ammunition  of  the  Americans 
nearly  exhausted  at,  544  ;  the  second  battle  at,  556; 
killed  and  wounded  at  the  second  battle  of,  500. 

Beunington,  expedition  against,  under  Bauine,  517  ; 
battle  of,  521  ;  consequences  of  the  British  defeat 
at,  52:3. 

Bermuda,  inhabitants  of,  and  the  cause  of  America, 
230. 

Bernie,  Major,  death  of.  at  Monk's  Corner,  725. 

Billingsport,  works  at,  taken  by  Col    Stirling,  585. 

Black  Mingo  swamp,  party  of  tories  defeated  by 
Marion  near,  812. 

"  Bloody  Hill,"  foray  made  by,  from  Charleston,  892. 

Bon  llomme  Richard,  engagement  of  the,  with  the 
Scrap  is,  704,  710. 

Bordentown,  storehouses  destroyed  at,  C26. 

Boston,  artillery  and  ammunition  of,  seized  by  Gage, 
140  ;  citizens  of,  remove  to  the  country,  160  ;  dispo 
sition  of  the  American  forces  near,  161  ;  force  and 
position  of  the  American  and  British  armies  at  the 
siege  of,  188  ;  sufferings  of  the  British  army  in,  190, 

230  ;  hopes  of  the  tory  citizens  of,  191  ;  opinions  as 
to  the  propriety  of  an  attack  upon.  217  ;  firewood 
supplies— disturbance  of  a  dramatic  performance  in, 

231  ;    Washington  authorized   to   make  an  assault 
upon,    233  ;    movements   of    the   British    in,    234 ; 
Washington  in  favor  of  an  assault  upon,  over  the 
ice,  243  ;  bombardment  of  the  British  in,  244  ;  plan 
of  Washington  for  an  attack  upon,  245  ;  insecurity 
of  the  British  in,  247  ;  preparations  for  the  evacua 
tion  of,  248  ;  plunder  of  stores  in,  250  ;  evacuation 
of,  '252  ;  departure  of  tories  fiom,  252,  254  ;  taken 
possession  of,  by  the  American  forces,  253  ;  small 
pox  prevalent  in,  254  ;  joy  caused  throughout  the 
colonies   by  the  evacuation  of,  256  ;    news   of  the 
evacuation  of,  how  received  in  England,  257  ;  Brit 
ish  ves<els-of  war  driven  from — British  transports 
captured  in  the  harbor  of,  281. 

Boston  Neck,  fortified  by  Gen.  Gage,  in  1775,  140. 

Boston  port- bill,  138,  139. 

Boston  "  tea-party,"  138. 

Boundbrook.  Lincoln  driven  out  of,  by  Cornwallis,  464. 

Bowling  -Green,  New  York,  leaden  effigy  of  George 
III.  in  destroyed,  306. 

Boyd,  Capt  ,  Major  Andre  delayed  by,  at  Crowpond, 
771. 

Braddock,  Fanny,  biographical  notice  of,  48  ;  suicide 
of.  50. 

Braddock,  Gen.,  biographical  notice  of,  47-52  ;  a  strict 
disciplinarian,  53,  64  ;  arrives  in  Hampton  Roads 
— council  of  governors  called  by,  at  Alexandria,  55  ; 
slow  progress  of  the  army  of  63  ;  arrival  of  the 
army  of,  at  Fort  Cumberland,  (13;  a  funeral  in  the 
canip  of,  64;  his  treatment  of  the  Indians.  65  ;  his 


neglect  of  Captain  Jack,  66,  67;  his  anger  against 
the  provinces,  68  ;  his  precautions  against  surprise, 
73  ;  sudden  attack  upon,  at  the  Monongahela,  76  ; 
his  conduct  on  the  field  of  battle,  77  ;  retreat  ordered 
by— mortally  wounded,  78  ;  his  impatience  for  death, 
79  ;  deserted  by  his  troops — joined  by  Gage,  80  ;  his 
death  at  Great  Meadows — funeral  services  for,  read 
by  Washington  81  ;  effect  of  the  defeat  of,  85. 

Bradstreet,  Col.,  his  efforts  for  the  relief  of  Oswego, 
91,  94  ;  sudden  attack  upon,  by  French  and  Indians, 
92  ;  in  the  expedition  against  Ticonderoga,  1U4  ; 
Fort  Frontenac  taken  by,  105. 

Brandy  wine  river,  position  of  Washington's  army  on, 
before  the  battle,  531  ;  crossed  by  Howe  and  Corn 
wallis — rout  of  Sullivan's  division  at  the  battle  of, 
534  ;  the  American  army  retreats  after  the  battle  of, 
— killed  and  wounded  at  the  battle  of,  535. 

Brant,  joins  with  Walter  Butler,  in  an  expedition 
against  Cherry  Valley,  676  ;  Miuinsink  settlement 
ravaged  by,  679. 

Breed's  hill,  intrenchments  thrown  up  on,  163  ;  forti 
fications  on — cannonaded  from  Copp's  hill  and  men- 
of-war,  164  ;  panic  among  the  men  on,  1  i5  ;  prepa 
rations  by  the  British  for  an  attack  upon,  166  ; 
attack  upon,  intrusted  to  Maj.-Gen.  Howe,  167  ; 
arrival  of  Warren  and  Pomeroy  at,  169  ;  the  assault 
upon,  171  ;  repulse  of  the  British  at,  172  ;  officers 
picked  off  at,  173  ;  second  repulse  of  the  British  at, 
174 ;  reinforcements  of  marines  brought  to  Howe 
at,  Ii5  ;  failure  of  ammunition  to  the  defenders  of, 
175,  176  ;  third  attack  of  the  British  upon,  175  ; 
retreat  from,  176  ;  killed  and  wounded  at,  178  ; 
British  officers  who  fell  at,  180. 

Breyman,  Col. ,  at  the  battle  of  Bennington,  522. 

Brier  creek,  Ashe  defeated  at,  by  Provost,  690. 

Bromfield,  Major,  kills  Col  Ledyard,  at  Fort  Griswold, 
after  its  surrender,  906. 

Bronx  river,  American  army  encamped  on,  375. 

Brooklyn,  troops  at,  reinforced,  322  ;  visit  of  Wash 
ington  to,  325  ;  arrival  of  Mifflin  in,  with  reinforce 
ments — retreat  from,  determined  upon  by  a  council 
of  war,  332  ;  American  works  at,  taken  possession 
of  by  Gen.  Howe,  337. 

Brunswick,  Franklin  and  Adams  at,  on  their  way  to 
the  quarters  of  Lord  Howe,  344  ;  retreat  of  Wash 
ington  to,  399  ;  British  kept  in  check  at,  by  Alex. 
Hamilton,  405  ;  march  of  the  army  of  Washington 
to,  after  the  battle  of  Monmouth — court  martial  at, 
for  the  trial  of  Gen.  Lee,  642. 

Brush,  Crean,  stores  in  Boston  plundered  by,  250. 

Buford,  Col  ,  his  troops  massacred  by  Tarleton,  729. 

Bunker's  hill,  occupation  of,  advocated,  161  ;  the 
neighborhood  of,  described,  162  ;  breastwork  raised 
on,  166  ;  defenses  on,  169  ;  disposition  of  the  Amer 
ican  forces  at  the  battle  of,  171  ;  efforts  of  Putnam 
to  rally  the  Americans  at,  177  ;  breastwork  raised 
on,  by  the  British,  178. 


930 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


Burgoyne,  Gen.,  anecdote  of  (,iote),  160;  scene  at  the 
battle  of  Breed's  hill  described  by,  173  ;  biographi 
cal  notice  of.  483,  484  ;  welcomed  and  aided  by  (Jov. 
Carleton.  in  Canada —force  under — his  directions  to 
his  Indian  allies,  485  ;  proclamation  issued  by,  488  ; 
approach  of,  to  Ticonderoga,  490  ;  breaks  through 
the  bridge,  boom,  and  chain,  supposed  to  protect 
Skenesborough,  494  ;  delay  of,  at  Skenesborougli, 
498,  500  ;  proclamation  issued  by,  500  ;  slow  prog 
ress  of,  towards  Fort  Anne,  509  ;  unable  to  restrain 
his  Indians,  510  ;  greatly  in  need  of  horses,  517  ;  ex 
pedition  sent  by,  against  Bennington — encampment 
of,  opposite  Saratoga,  518  ;  determination  of,  to  form 
a  junction  with  Howe,  if  possible,  536  ;  crosses  the 
Hudson  to  Saratoga— operations  of  Lincoln  in  the 
rear  of,  537  ;  army  of,  harrassed  on  its  march  by 
Arnold,  538  ;  letter  of,  to  Sir  G.  Carleton,  after  the 
battle  at  Bemis'  heights,  542  ;  letter  received  by, 
from  Sir  H.  Clinton,  544  ;  deserted  by  many  of  his 
Indians — fortifies  his  camp — advises  an  attack  on 
Fort  Montgomery — scarcity  of  provisions  in  the 
camp  of,  54")  ;  compelled  to  fight  or  starve,  555  ; 
narrow  escape  of,  at  the  second  battle  of  Bemis' 
heights — camp  abandoned  by,  in  the  night,  560  ; 
cautious  retreat  of,  towards  Saratoga,  562,  563  ;  re 
treat  of,  from  Saratoga,  566  ;  condition  of  affairs  in 
the  camp  of,  567  ;  desperate  plans  of,  for  extrication 
from  his  position.  569  ;  completely  hemmed  in,  570  ; 
negotiates  for  surrender,  and  agrees  on  terms,  571  ; 
hears  too  late  from  Sir  II.  Clinton,  572  ;  the  surren 
der  of,  573  ;  friendly  footing  established  between, 
and  Gen.  Gates,  574  ;  a  prisoner  on  parole.  925. 

Burr,  Aaron  a  volunteer  in  Arnold's  Quebec  expedi 
tion.  196  ;  way  of  escape  from  New  York  pointed 
out  to  Putnam  by,  351. 

Burton,  Col.,  at  the  battle  of  the  Monongahela,  77. 

Bushuell,  contrivance  of,  for  blowing  up  British  ships, 
314  ;  plan  of,  favored  by  Putnam,  315  ;  his  "Ameri 
can  Turtle"  sent  to  th:>  bottom,  371. 

Butler,  Col.,  yn'jcrx  surprised  by,  near  Tarry  town,  675. 

Butler,  Col.  John,  British  and  Indians  led  by,  against 
Wyoming,  653  ;  Wyoming  abandoned  by,  G50. 

Butler,  Col   W.,  expedition  of,  against  Indians,  676. 

Butler,  Col.  Zc;b.,  defense  of  Wyoming  undertaken  by, 
652  ;  defeat  and  massacre  of  the  troops  under,  654. 

Butler,  Walter,  escape  of,  from  prison,  at  Albany 

expedition  of,  against  settlers  in  Tryon  county,  676. 

C. 

CADWALLADER,  Col.  Lambert,  at  the  defense  of  Fort 
Washington,  389;  efforts  of,  to  co-operate  with 
Washington  at  Trenton,  423  ;  march  of,  to  Borden- 
town,  426;  appointment  as  brigadier  general  not 
ace  «pted  by,  452  ;  dud  of,  with  Gen.  Conway,  617. 

Ctesar  and  Isis,  battle  between  the,  602. 

Cald\\vll,  Mrs.,  shot  dead  in  her  own  house,  748. 


Caldwell,  Rev.  Mr. ,  shot  by  a  sentinel  (note),  748  ; 
distributes  hymn-books  to  the  militia  for  wadding, 
751. 

Callender,  Capt. ,  bad  conduct  of,  at  Breed's  hill,  172. 

Cambridge,  commotion  created  in,  by  the  arrival  of 
General  Howe  at  Charlestown,  168  ;  apprehensions 
of  a  British  attack  upon,  181  ;  arrival  of  Washing-ton 
at,  186  ;  centre  of  the  continental  army  at,  189  ; 
want  of  discipline  in  the  army  at.  214  ;  visit  of  the 
committee  of  Congress  to  the  camp  at,  216;  sickness 
in  the  camp  at,  220  ;  appearance  of  the  camp  at, 
227  ;  copy  of  the  king's  speech  sent  to  the  camp  at, 
by  the  British  commander,  233. 

Camden,  battle  of,  740  ;  killed  and  wounded  at,  745  ; 
several  prisoners  taken  at,  hanged  by  order  of  Corn- 
wallis,  793  ;  march  of  Gen.  Greene  towards,  843  ; 
attempt  of  Greene  to  surprise  Lord  Eawdon  at,  854  ; 
evacuated  and  burned  by  Ilawdon,  861  ;  miserable 
fate  of  the  loyalists  of,  862. 

Campbell,  Col. ,  of  Virginia,  at  King's  mountain,  796  ; 
at  Hobkirk's  hill,  857  ;  death  of,  at  Eutaw  Springs, 
889. 

Campbell,  Lieut.-Col.,  death  of,  in  his  attack  on  Fort 
Montgomery,  552. 

Campbell,  Lieut.-Col.,  and  British  troops,  made  pri 
soners  on  board  transports  in  Boston  harbor,  282  ; 
harsh  treatment  of,  at  Concord — efforts  of  Washing 
ton  in  favor  of,  444  ;  expedition  sent  to  the  South 
under  the  command  of,  686  ;  tro.ips  landed  by,  near 
Savannah — Gen.  Pravost  ordered  toco-operate  with, 
687  ;  Augusta  taken  possession  of  by,  688. 

Campbell,  Lord  W. ,  governor  of  South  Carolina,  mor 
tally  wounded  at  the  siege  of  Charleston,  294. 

Canada,  conquest  of,  determined  on  by  Pitt,  107  . 
expedition  against,  resolved  upon  by  Washington, 
193  ;  desire  of  Benedict  Arnold  to  attempt  the  con 
quest  of,  194  ;  invasion  of,  intrusted  to  Gen.  Schuy- 
ler,  195;  expedition  against,  intrusted  to  Arnold,  196; 
efforts  of  Ethan  Allen  and  Major  Brown  to  obtain 
recru'ts  in,  198  ;  Gen.  Lee  ordered  to  take  command 
of  the  army  in,  258  ;  letter  of  Washington  to 
Schuyler,  relative  to  affairs  in,  262  ;  commissioners 
appointed  to  visit,  263  ;  condition  of  affairs  in,  as 
described  by  the  commissioners,  275. 

Canadians,  cruelties  practised  by,  on  English  prison 
ers,  during  Wolfe's  siege  of  Quebec,  114. 

Canseau,  taken  by  the  French,  7  ;  the  rendezvous  of 
the  expedition  against  Louisburg  in  1745.  13. 

Cape  Breton,  captured  by  the  provincials,  CO  ;  ceded 
to  France  by  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  32. 

Cape  Finisterre,  French  fleet  defeated  off,  in  1746,  32. 

Captain  Jack,  biographical  notice  of,  66. 

Carleton,  Sir  G.,  in  Wolfe's  expedition  against  Que 
bec,  109  ;  at  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  195, 197; 
defeat  of — e.-cape  of,  at  Montreal,  201  ;  escape  of, 
past  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel,  in  disguise — arrival 
of,  at  Quebec,  207 ;  measures  taken  by,  for  the 


I   AND   II.] 


INDEX. 


931 


defense  of  Quebec,  208;  humanity  of,  towards  Ameri 
can  prisoners,  2GO  ;  reinforcements  received  by,  at 
Quebec,  278  ;  fleet  launched  by,  at  St.  Johns,  366  ; 
Crown  Point  taken  possession  of  and  abandoned  by, 
370  ;  services  rendered  by,  to  Burgoyne,  485. 

Carlisle,  Earl  of,  British  commissioner,  character  of, 
628  ;  challenge  sent  to,  by  Lafayette,  (note)  631. 

Caswell,  Gen.,  in  command  of  North  Carolina  militia, 
736  ;  forms  a  junction  with  Gates,  739. 

Cedars,  a  fort  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  surrender  of,  272. 

Cedar  Springs,  attempted  surprise  of  Col.  Clark  at,  735. 

Champe,  Sergt.,  attempts  to  abduct  Arnold,  786. 

Charleston,  preparations  for  the  defense  of,  289  ;  chief 
command  at,  assumed  by  Gen.  Lee,  290  ;  aid  brought 
to,  by  Pulaski,  691  ;  propositions  for  surrender  made 
by  the  defenders  of,  to  Prevost — retreat  of  Prevost 
from,  on  the  approach  of  Lincoln,  692  ;  siege  of,  by 
Sir  H.  Clinton,  723  ;  surrender  of,  by  Lincoln,  728  ; 
movements  of  Clinton  after  the  fall  of,  729  ;  Lord 
Rawdon  held  in  check  at,  by  Marion  and  Sumter, 
863  ;  evacuation  of,  by  the  British,  895. 

Charlestown,  panic  in,  149  ;  shelled  and  set  on  fire  by 
order  of  Gage,  173  ;  houses  in,  burned  by  order  of 
Putnam,  232. 

Charlottesville,  state  assembly  dispersed  at,  848. 

Chastcllux,  Marquis  de,  accompanies  Rochambeau  to 
America,  753  ;  visit  of,  to  Mount  Vernon,  904. 

Chatham,  Earl  of,  speech  of,  in  Parliament,  on  Ameri 
can  affairs,  after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  577. 

Chaudiere  river,  arrival  of  Arnold  at — narrow  escape 
of  Arnold  and  his  party  from  a  cataract  on,  205. 

Cherokee  Indians,  Col.  Gist  authorized  to  raise  a  num 
ber  of,  for  service  against  the  British,  in  1777,  452. 

Cherry  Valley,  expedition  of  Walter  Butler  and  Brant 
against,  676  ;  massacre  of  the  inhabitants  of,  677. 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  remarks  of,  on  colonial  affairs,  99. 

Cheyney,  Thomas,  important  information  given  by,  to 
Washington,  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  533. 

Church,  Dr.,  attempted  treasonable  correspondence  of, 
with  Capt.  Wallace,  218  ;  subsequent  fate  of,  219. 

Clarke,  Major  G.  R.,  biographical  notice  of — expedition 
of,  to  recover  Vincennes  from  the  British,  693. 

Clinton,  Col.  and  Gen.  James,  in  command  of  Fort 
Montgomery  and  Fort  Constitution,  286  ;  warned  by 
Washington  of  the  approach  of  British  ships-of- 
war,  371  ;  wound  received  by,  while  defending  Fort 
Clinton,  552  ;  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  911. 

Clinton,  Gen.  Geo. ,  militia  in  command  of,  807;  co-oper 
ation  of,  with  Heath,  in  the  Highlands,  385  ;  appoin 
ted  brigadier-general,  452  ;  New  York  militia  called 
out  by,  549  ;  his  defense  of  Fort  Montgomery,  551  ; 
narrow  escape  of,  before  the  surrender,  552  ;  move 
ments  of,  after  the  fall  of  Forts  Montgomery  and 
Clinton,  553  ;  hangs  two  British  spies,  554. 

Clinton,  Sir  Henry,  arrival  of,  at  Boston,  160  ;  bio 
graphical  notice  of,  288  ;  at  the  siege  of  Charleston, 
291  ;  repulse  of,  293  ;  at  the  battle  of  Long  island, 
2-b 


324  ;  efforts  of,  to  form  a  junction  with  Burgoyne, 
548  ;  lands  at  Tarrytown  and  Verplanck's  Point,  549  ; 
sudden  attack  made  by,  upon  Forts  Clinton  and 
Montgomery,  550 ;  letter  of,  to  Burgoyne,  554 ; 
scheme  of  Washington  for  seizing  the  person  of,  623  ; 
Lafayette  sent  to  watch  the  movements  of,  624  ; 
secrecy  of  the  movements  of,  632  ;  measures  taken 
by  Washington  for  harassing  the  retreat  of,  633  ; 
puts  his  baggage  in  front  and  his  best  troops  in  the 
rear,  634;  retreat  of,  after  the  battle  of  Monnurath — 
losses  sustained  by  the  army  of,  641  ;  movement  of, 
for  the  defense  of  Rhode  Island,  6G5  ;  attack  upon 
Little  Egg  Harbor  planned  by,  674  ;  expedition  of, 
against  South  Carolina,  721 ;  movements  of,  in  South 
Carolina,  729  ;  return  of,  to  New  York,  731  ;  con 
tempt  of,  for  the  meanness  of  Arnold,  778  ;  refuses 
to  exchange  Arnold  for  Andre,  784  ;  emissaries  sent 
by,  among  the  mutineers  at  Morristown,  824  ;  delu 
sion  of,  as  to  Washington's  proposed  attack  upon 
New  York,  904. 

Coates,  Col.,  surprised  at  Quinby  bridge,  875;  stand 
made  by,  at  Shubrick's  plantation,  877. 

Coffin,  Capt.,  command  of,  cut  to  pieces  by  Col.  Wash 
ington  after  the  battle  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  860. 

Colerus,  M. ,  annoys  Washington  by  importunities,  471. 

Collier,  Admiral  Sir  G.,  the  Massachusetts  expedition 
against  McLean,  at  Penobscot  bay,  broken  up  by,  713. 

Commissioners,  British,  arrival  of,  at  Philadelphia,  in 
1778,  628  ;  personal  description  of,  628,  629  ;  re 
ception  of,  629  ;  despatches  sent  by,  to  Congress — 
reply  of  Congress  to — efforts  made  by,  to  bribe  dis 
tinguished  Americans,  630 ;  efforts  of,  to  turn  to 
account  the  national  prejudice  against  the  French, 
631  ;  total  failure  of  all  their  exertions,  632. 

"Common  Sense,"  Paine's  pamphlet,  influence  of,  30-1. 

"  Conciliatory  bills,"  of  Lord  North,  how  received,  628. 

Concord,  design  of  Gen.  Gage  to  seize  arms  and  am 
munition  at,  140;  as  it  was  in  1775 — stores  destroyed 
at,  by  Col.  Smith,  144;  the  battle  at  the  north  bridge 
of,  145. 

Congress  and  Montgomery,  burning  of  the  frigates, 
on  the  Hudson,  553. 

Connecticut  Farms,  in  New  Jersey,  plundered  and 
burned  by  Knyphausen — Mrs.  Caldwell  shot  dead 
in  her  own  house  at,  748. 

Connecticut,  mercenary  spirit  pervading  the  troops 
from,  222  ;  troops  from,  anxious  to  leave  the  con 
tinental  army,  224  ;  places  of  troops  from,  supplied 
from  Massachusetts  and  New  Hampshire,  226  ;  body 
of  light-horse  from,  discharged  by  Washington,  298  ; 
desertions  from  the  army  in  New  York,  of  the 
militia  from,  339. 

Continental  army,  adoption  of,  158  ;  generals  chosen 
for,  158,  188  ;  constituent  elements  of,  158  ;  com 
mand  of,  assumed  by  Washington,  186  ;  description 
of  the  camp  of,  at  Cambridge — generals  appointed 
for,  187  ;  little  discipline  in,  189,  214  ;  hunting-shirts 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


recommended  for,  189  ;  alarming  want  of  ammuni 
tion  in,  189, 190  ;  arrival  of  ammunition  in  the  camp 
of,  192 ;  condition  of,  220  ;  characteristics  of  the 
Massachusetts  officers  in— difficulty  experienced  in 
selecting  officers  for,  221  ;  resolution  to  reorganize, 
222;  little  patriotism  displayed  by  the  Massachusetts 
soldiers  in,  225;  improved  condition  of  affairs  in,  226; 
necessity  for  the  reorganization  of,  358  ;  efforts  of 
Congress  to  procure  enlistments  in  (note),  359. 

Continental  money,  extreme  depreciation  of,  720. 

Contrecoeur,  the  British  fort  on  the  Ohio  fork  taken  by, 
35  ;  his  fears  of  the  force  of  Braddock,  82  ;  Indian 
cruelties  towards  British  prisoners  witnessed  by,  83. 

Conway,  Col.  and  Gen.,  impression  produced  upon 
Washington  by,  471 ;  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandy- 
wine,  535  ;  intriguing  letter  written  by,  613  ;  at 
tempt  of,  to  explain  away  his  words  to  Washington 
—resignation  offered  by — appointed  inspector-gen 
eral  of  the  army— officers  in  conspiracy  with,  to 
supplant  Washington — cabal  of,  brought  to  an  issue 
by  Washington's  letter,  614 ;  instrumentality  of 
Wilkinson  and  Lord  Stirling  in  exposing  the  cabal 
of,  615,  616  ;  impertinent  letters  written  by,  to 
Washington — resignation  of,  accepted — wounded  in 
a  duel  with  Gen.  Cadwallader — penitent  letter  writ 
ten  by,  to  Washington,  617. 

Cook,  Capt.,  the  navigator,  in  the  expedition  against 
Louisburg,  in  1758,  103 ;  in  Wolfe's  expedition 
against  Quebec,  109. 

Cornwallis,  Earl,  at  the  battle  of  Long  island,  324 ; 
movements  of,  to  attack  Fort  Lee,  393  ;  carelessness 
of,  in  New  Jersey,  418  ;  command  in  New  Jersey 
resumed  by,  427  ;  confidence  of,  at  Assumpink  creek, 
432  ;  hears  thunder  from  Princeton,  435  ;  alarmed 
for  his  stores  at  Brunswick,  437  ;  permitted  to  send 
money  and  stores  to  Hessian  prisoners,  448  ;  takes 
possession  of  Philadelphia,  580  ;  arrives  at  Charles 
ton,  726  ;  left  in  command  in  South  Carolina,  731  ; 
night-march  of,  towards  Clermont,  739  ;  rigorous 
measures  of,  after  the  battle  of  Camden,  792;  retreats 
from  Salisbury,  802 ;  position  of  his  forces,  on 
Greene's  taking  command  in  the  South,  810  ;  bag 
gage  destroyed  by,  to  facilitate  his  pursuit  of  Morgan, 
819,  826  ;  crosses  the  Catawba  river,  at  night  828  ; 
narrow  escape  of,  while  crossing  the  Catawba,  829  ; 
retires  from  the  Dan  to  Ilillsborough,  833  ;  leaves 
Hillsborough  for  Allamance  creek,  836  ;  harassed  by 
Col.  Williams,  and  by  Pickens  and  Lee,  837  ;  move 
ment  of,  to  attack  Greene  at  Guilford  courthouse, 
838  ;  manoeuvre  resorted  to  by,  at  Guilford  court 
house,  840  ;  retreats  to  Cross  creek,  842  ;  marches 
to  Wilmington,  N.  C., — determines  to  form  a  junc 
tion  with  Phillips  and  Arnold,  in  Virginia,  843  ;  de 
terred  from  attempting  to  surprise  Lafayette,  846  ; 
deception  practiced  by,  on  Lafayette — ordered  by 
Sir  II.  Clinton  to  send  a  portion  of  his  troops  to  New 
York— determines  to  seek  the  cover  of  Portsmouth, 


849;  devastations  of ,  in  Virginia  and  North  Carolina, 
851;  concentrates  his  whole  force  at  Yorktown,  896; 
shut  up  in  Yorktown  by  Lafayette,  St.  Simon,  and 
De  Grasse,  897  ;  ordered  by  Clinton  to  send  several 
of  his  regiments  to  the  North,  899  ;  Washington's 
secret  intention  to  march  against,  901  ;  reinforce 
ments  promised  to,  by  Clinton,  909  ;  confidence  of, 
to  hold  Yorktown,  910  ;  situation  of,  at  Yorktown, 
915  ;  last  letter  received  by,  from  Clinton,  917  ;  pro 
positions  of,  for  the  surrender  of  Yorktown,  918  ; 
a  guest  at  the  headquarters  of  Washington,  922  ; 
subsequent  career  of,  925. 

Cow-boys,  arrest  Major  Andre  near  Tarrytown,  772. 

Cowpens,  account  of  Col.  Tarleton's  defeat  at,  814,  818. 

Cressop,  "the  rattlesnake  colonel,"  roguery  of,  (J3,  68. 

Crown  Point,  expedition  against,  87  ;  capture  of,  by 
"Green-Mountain  Boys,"  155;  determination  to  with 
draw  the  army  from,  285  ;  wretched  condition  of 
the  American  troops  at,  364  ;  fleet  of  Arnold  at,  365  ; 
taken  possession  of,  by  Carleton,  370. 

Cruger,  Col.  defense  of  Ninety-Six  by,  865  ;  left  at 
Ninety-Six  to  protect  the  retreat,  871  ;  in  command 
of  American  royalists,  at  Eutaw  Springs,  885. 

Culpepper  volunteers,  flag  and  motto  of,  238  ;  Gov. 
Dunmore's  attempt  on  Hampton  defeated  by,  239. 

Cunningham,  (Jen.,  encounter  of  a  body  of  tories 
under,  with  Gen.  Sumter,  892. 

Cunningham, W.,  foray  made  by,  from  Charleston,  892. 

Custis,  J.  P.,  with  his  mother  at  Cambridge,  225  ;  ac 
companies  Washington  as  aid,  904. 

Custis,  Mrs.  Martha,  marriage  of,  to  Washington,  185. 

D. 

DAXBUKY,Tryon's  expedition  to  destroy  stores  at — Sul 
livan's  efforts  for  the  defense  of,  464;  stores  at,  des 
troyed,  465  ;  retreat  of  Tryon  from,  466  ;  Gates  and 
McDougall  stationed  at,  673. 

Dan  river,  retreat  of  Gen.  Greene  to,  831  ;  recrossed 
by  Greene  after  the  retreat  of  Cornwallis,  833. 

D'Anville,  failure  of,  to  recapture  Louisburg,  31. 

Davidson,  Gen.,  defends  the  fords  of  the  Catawba 
against  Cornwallis,  828  ;  shot  dead  while  mounting 
his  horse,  829. 

Dearborn,  Major  IT.,  with  Gates  at  Still  water,  537. 

De  Barras,  arrives  safe  with  his  squadron  in  the 
Chesapeake,  905. 

De  Beaujeu,  death  of,  in  his  attack  upon  Braddock,  76; 
the  ambuscade  for  Braddock  was  contrived  by,  82. 

Deborre,  Gen.,  ill  conduct  of,  at  the  battle  of  the 
Brandywine,  534,  535. 

De  Bougainville,  retreat  of,  at  Quebec,  130. 

Declaration  of  Independence,  adoption  of,  303  ;  read 
to  the  American  army  in  New  York,  305. 

De  Grasse,  Admiral,  arrives  with  a  fleet  in  the  Chesa 
peake,  896  ;  fight  between  his  fleet  and  that  of  Ad 
miral  Graves,  905  ;  Lafayette  urged  by,  to  attack 
Cornwallis,  907;  interview  of  Washington  with,908  ; 


I  AND  II.] 


INDEX. 


933 


urged  to  aid  in  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  909  ;  sub 
sequent  career  of  (note),  924. 

De  Heister,  Hessians  under,  at  the  battle  of  Long 
Island,  324  ;  surrender  of  Lord  Stirling  to,  329. 

De  Kalb,  Baron,  arrives  at  Charleston,  S.  C.,  506; 
made  a  major-general,  508  ;  march  of  troops  under, 
from  Morristown  to  the  South,  736  ;  superseded  by 
Gates  in  command  of  the  Southern  army,  737  ;  at 
the.  battle  of  Camden,  741 ;  mortally  wounded  at  the 
battle  of  Camden — biographical  notice  of  (note),  743. 

Delancey,  Oliver,  biographical  notice  of,  360  ;  efforts 
of,  to  raise  recruits  among  the  tories  on  Long  Island, 
361  ;  expedition  planned  by  Washington  against  the 
loyalists  under,  at  Morrisania,  898 

Delaplace,  Capt.,  Ticonderoga  surrendered  by,  155. 

Delaware,  surrender  of  the,  to  the  British,  585. 

Delaware  river,  crossed  by  the  retreating  army  of 
Washington — arrival  of  the  troops  of  Cornwallis  at, 
405  ;  efforts  of  Washington  to  prevent  the  British 
from  crossing,  416;  obstructions  placed  in,  and  forts 
on,  579  ;  efforts  of  Sir  W.  Howe  to  secure  the  com 
mand  of,  580,  584,  587  ;  American  vessels  destroyed 
on,  591,  626,  671. 

Delawares  and  Shawnees,  singular  origin  of  a  war 
between,  650. 

De  Levi,  defeats  Gen.  Murray,  near  Quebec,  133. 

Denison,  Col.,  surrenders  Fort  Forty  to  Col.  John 
Butler,  655. 

De  Peyster.  Capt. ,  surrender  of,  at  King's  mountain, 
after  the  death  of  Col.  Ferguson,  800. 

D'Estaing,  Count,  too  late  to  cage  Lord  Howe  in  the 
Delaware— biographical  notice  of,  658  ;  in  pursuit 
of  Howe's  fleet — fears  to  attack  Howe  within  Sandy 
Hook — sails  for  Newport — single  vessels  of  Byron's 
fleet  escape, 659;  swears  at  the  English  luck, 660;  sails 
out  of  Newport  to  fight  the  fleet  of  Howe,  661 ;  fleet 
of,  dispersed  by  a  storm,  662  ;  returns  to  Newport 
— determines  to  return  to  Boston,  to  refit — indigna 
tion  of  Sullivan  at  the  conduct  of — offence  taken  by, 
at  Sullivan,  663  ;  letter  written  by,  to  Congress — 
officers  of  the  fleet  of,  hooted  in  the  streets  of  Bos 
ton,  664  ;  co-operates  with  Lincoln  in  the  siege  of 
Savannah,  714  ;  the  siege  raised  through  the  obsti 
nacy  of,  717  ;  returns  to  France,  718. 

Destouches,  M.,  naval  forces  sent  by,  to  blockade 
Arnold  in  Portsmouth,  843;  blockaded  by  the  British 
in  Newport — driven  away  from  the  Chesapeake  by 
Admiral  Arbuthnot,  844. 

DeVaudreuil,  his  conduct  after  Montcalm's  defeat,  131. 

De  Villiers,  Fort  Necessity  surrendered  to,  43. 

Dickenson,  Gen.  Phil.,  performs  a  gallant  action,  448. 

Dieskau,  Baron,  approach  of,  to  Lake  George,  88  ;  de 
feated  by  Col.  William  Johnson,  at  Lake  George,  89. 

Dillon,  Count,  at  the  siege  of  Savannah,  717. 

Dobbs'  ferry,  Gen.  Howe  with  the  main  body  of  his 
army  at— supplies  sent  to,  by  Lord  Howe,  384  ; 
Washington  joined  by  Rochambeau  at,  898. 


Donop,  Count,  defeat  and  death  of,  at  Fort  Mercer,  586 ; 
flight  of  the  troops  of,  to  Haddonfield,  587. 

Dorchester,  S.  C.,  abandoned  by  the  garrison,  on  the 
approach  of  Lee  and  Hampton,  874;  British  garrison 
driven  out  of,  by  Greene,  894. 

Dorchester  heights,  preparations  of  Washington  for 
an  attempt  upon,  243  ;  description  of  the  occupation 
of,  244;  attempt  to  dislodge  Washington  from, 
given  up  by  Howe,  247. 

Doyle,  Major,  succeeds  Col.  Stewart  after  the  battle  of 
Eutaw  Springs,  891 ;  ravages  of,  on  the  Santee  and 
Congaree,  893. 

Drake,  sloop-of  war,  captured  by  Paul  Jones,  669. 

Duchambon,  the  surrender  of  Louisburg  demanded 
from,  by  Pepperell  and  Warren,  27. 

Ducoudray,  M. ,  claims  of,  to  command  American  ar 
tillery — drowned  while  crossing  the  Schuylkill,  471. 

Dunbar,  Col.  Thomas,  in  command  of  one  of  Brad- 
dock's  regiments,  54 ;  panic  in  the  camp  of,  after 
Braddock's  defeat,  81 ;  cowardly  retreat  of,  84. 

Dundas,  Col. ,  associated  with  Arnold  in  his  expedition 
to  Virginia,  820. 

Dunmore,  Lord,  refuge  taken  by,  on  board  a  ship- of  - 
war — his  attempt  on  Hampton  defeated — joined  by 
tories  from  Norfolk,  239  ;  Norfolk  cannonaded  and 
burned  by,  240  ;  departure  of,  to  St.  Augustine,  241. 

Duplessis,  strengthens  the  defenses  at  Fort  Mercer,  585. 

Duquesne,  Marquis,  forts  established  by,  in  1753,  33. 

E. 
EDEN,  W.,  British  commissioner  to  the  United  States, 

629. 

Edge  hill,  near  Philadelphia,  skirmish  at,  in  1777,  596. 
Edge  worth,  Maria,  notice  of  (note),  762. 
Edgeworth,  Richard  Lovell,  notice  of  (note),  761. 
Edmondston,  Capt.,  death  of ,  at  King's  mountain,  800. 
Eggleston,  Major,  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  888. 
Elizabethtown,    British    incursion    to,    from    Staten 

Island,  721. 

Elk  river,  Howe's  troops  land  on  the,  in  1777,  530. 
Emerson,  Rev.  W.,  describes  the  camp  at  Cambridge, 

187. 
Enos,  Col. ,  deserts  Arnold  on  his  Quebec  expedition, 

204. 
Erskine,  Sir  W.,  with  Try  on  in  his  attack  on  Danbury, 

464. 

Esopus,  burned  by  the  British  under  Vaughan,  553. 
Eutaw  Springs,  retreat  of  the  British  under  Stewart 

to,  883  ;  battle  of,  884  ;  killed  and  wounded  at,  890. 
Eyre,  Col.,  mortally  wounded  at  Fort  Griswold,  906. 
Eyres,  Major,  his  defense  of  Fort  William  Henry,  98. 

F. 
FAIRFAX,  Bryan,  visits  Washington  at  Valley  Forge, 

618. 

Fail-field,  Conn. ,  laid  in  ashes  by  the  British,  698. 
Fairlawn,  British  at,  surrender  to  Col.  Shelby,  893, 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


Falmouth,  bombardment  and  burning  of,  in  1775,  215. 

Ferguson,  Capt.,  expedition  against  Little  Egg  Harbor 
intrusted  to — Pulaski's  force  surprised  by,  675. 

Ferguson,  Col.  Patrick,  humanity  of,  726  ;  defeat  and 
death  of,  at  King's  mountain,  800. 

Ferguson,  Adam,  British  commissioner  to  the  United 
States,  629  ;  refused  a  passport  to  Congress,  630. 

Fitzgerald,  Col.,  at  the  battle  of  Princeton,  434. 

Five  Nations,  influence  of  Col.  Wm.  Johnson  with,  88. 

Flatbusli,  night-march  of  Gen.  Clinton  from,  326. 

Fleury,  Capt.  Louis,  horse  presented  to,  by  Congress, 
535  ;  at  the  capture  of  Stony  Point,  700. 

Forbes,  Gen.,  expedition  of,  against  Fort  Duquesne,  105. 

Fordham  heights,  Howe's  army  encamped  on,  386. 

Fordyce,  Capt.,  death  of,  at  the  head  of  grenadiers,  in 
a  conflict  with  Virginia  riflemen,  240. 

Fort  Clinton,  defense  of,  against  Sir  H.  Clinton,  by 
Gen.  James  Clinton,  550  ;  surrender  of,  552. 

Fort  Clinton,  at  West  Point,  erected  by  Kosciusko,  624. 

Fort  Constitution,  opposite  West  Point,  286. 

Fort  Duquesne,  constructed  by  Mercier,  in  1754,  40  ; 
determination  of  Gen.  Braddock  to  proceed  against, 
56;  feeble  garrison  of,  82;  expedition  against,  under 
Gen.  Forbes,  105  ;  taken  by  Forbes  in  1758,  10G. 

Fort  Edward,  the  Northern  army  at,  after  St.  Glair's 
defeat — miserable  condition  of  the  army  at,  489  ; 
Burgoyne  determines  to  make  a  road  through  the 
forest  to,  500  :  arrival  of  Burgoyne  at,  512. 

Fort  Forty,  at  Wyoming,  capitulation  of — refuge  taken 
in,  by  the  survivors  of  the  Wyoming  massacre,  655. 

Fort  Frontenac,  capture  of,  by  Col.  Bradstreet,  105. 

Fort  Granby,  near  Columbia,  surrender  of,  863. 

Fort  Griswold,  defense  of,  by  Col.  Wm.  Ledyard,  906. 

Fort  Hardy,  the  scene  of  Burgoyne's  surrender,  573. 

Fort  Independence,  summons  of  General  Heath  dis 
regarded  by  the  garrison  of,  439. 

Fort  Johnson,  near  Charleston,  289. 

Fort  Lee,  evacuation  of,  by  Gen.  Greene,  394. 

Fort  Levi,  on  Isle  Royale,  surrender  of,  in  1760,  133. 

Fort  Mercer,  defense  of,  by  Col.  Greene — death  of 
Count  Donop  at,  586  ;  insufficient  reinforcements 
sent  to,  587  ;  taken  by  Cornwallis,  591. 

Fort  Mifflin,  defense  of,  by  Col.  Smith.  587;  batteries 
erected  against,  on  Province  island,  588;  guns  of  the 
British  Fleet  brought  to  bear  upon — killed  and 
wounded  at,  589. 

Fort  Montgomery,  in  command  of  Col.  Jas.  Clinton, 
286  ;  boom  and  chain  recommended  to  be  placed 
across  the  Hudson  at,  477  ;  defense  of,  by  Gov.  G. 
Clinton,  550  ;  service  rendered  by  Col.  Lamb,  in  the 
defense  of,  551  ;  surrender  of,  552. 

Fort  Motte.  surrender  of,  to  Gen.  Marion,  863. 

Fort  Moultrie.     (See  Fort  Sullivan.) 

Fort  Necessity,  constructed  by  Washington,  41  ;  the 
attack  of  the  French  awaited  by  Washington  at,  42, 
43  ;  surrender  of,  43  ;  terms  of  capitulation  at,  44  ; 
destroyed  by  the  French,  45 


Fort  Ontario,  taken  by  Montcalm,  95. 

Fort  Schuyler,  movements  of  Arnold  for  the  relief  of, 
526  ;  siege  of,  abandoned  by  Col.  St.  Leger,  527,  528. 

Fort  Stanwix,  invested  by  Col.  St.  Leger — defense  of, 
by  Col.  Gansevoort — efforts  to  relieve,  512  ;  sortie 
made  from,  513.  (See  Fort  Schuyler  ) 

Fort  Sullivan,  in  Charleston  harbor,  erected  by  Col. 
Moultrie,  289  ;  attack  upon,  292  ;  British  cannonade 
upon,  295  ;  name  of,  changed  to  Fort  Moultrie,  296. 

Fort  Washington,  works  at,  under  the  superintendence 
of  Gen.  Mifflin,  297  ;  useless  for  the  defense  of  the 
Hudson,  307 ;  Col.  Magaw  left  in  charge  of,  375  ; 
doiibts  as  to  the  utility  of  holding,  384  ;  Greene  and 
Magaw  in  favor  of  defending,  385  ;  investment  of, 
385,  386  ;  condition  of — force  of  the  defenders  of — 
disposition  of  the  British  forces  when  attacking,  887; 
attempt  of  Washington  to  reach,  from  Fort  Lee — 
inadequacy  of  the  defenses  of,  388  ;  simultaneous 
attack  of  the  British  upon,  390  ;  the  attack  npon, 
witnessed  from  Fort  Lee,  391  ;  surrender  of,  392  ; 
name  of,  changed  to  Knyphausen — prisoners  taken 
in,  sent  to  New  York — loss  sustained  by  the  British 
at  the  capture  of,  393  ;  treatment  of  the  prisoners 
taken  at,  441. 

Fort  Watson,  expedition  of  Marion  and  Lee  agaiust — 
singular  expedient  adopted  by  the  besiegers  of,  855. 

Fort  William  Henry,  Vaudreuil's  expedition  against, 
97  ;  defense  of,  by  Major  Eyres,  98  ;  capitulation 
of,  99. 

France,  arrival  of  arms  from,  in  1777,  457  ;  change  in 
the  policy  of,  after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne — 
independence  of  the  United  States  acknowledged 
by,  576  ;  arrival  at  Valley  Forge  of  the  news  of  the 
treaty  with,  626  ;  measures  taken  by  the  British  on 
becoming  aware  of  the  American  treaty  with,  627  ; 
anniversary  of  the  alliance  with,  celebrated  in  the 
American  camp,  683. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  visits  Gen.  Braddock  at  Fred- 
ericktown,  59  ;  conversation  of,  with  Braddock — 
undertakes  to  procure  wagons  for  the  British  army, 
60  ;  commendation  bestowed  upon,  by  Braddock — 
luxuries  procured  by,  for  Dunbar's  and  Halket's 
subalterns,  61  ;  his  doubts  of  Braddock's  success, 
85  ;  visits  the  American  camp,  at  Cambridge,  216  ; 
payment  made  to,  by  the  Massachusetts  general 
court,  for  services  in  England — money  sent  by  the 
hands  of,  from  England,  for  the  sufferers  by  the 
battle  of  Lexington,  217  ;  early  intimacy  of  Admiral 
Howe  with,  309  ;  pungent  reply  of,  to  a  letter  of 
Lord  Howe,  342  ;  journey  of,  from  Philadelphia  to 
Staten  Island,  344  ;  sharp  remark  made  by,  to  Lord 
Howe,  345  ;  remark  of,  respecting  the  entrance  of 
the  British  into  Philadelphia,  606  ;  aid  furnished  by, 
in  fitting  out  Paul  Jones'  squadron  in  France,  702. 

Fraser,  Gen.,  defeat  of  Gen.  Thompson  by,  at  Three 
Rivers  277  ;  commands  a  division  of  Burgoyne's 
army,  485  ;  attacks  Francis  and  Warner,  at 


I   AND   II.  J 


INDEX. 


935 


Hubbardton,  496 ;  mortally  wounded  at  Bemis' 
heights,  557  ;  dying  request  of,  561  ;  Burgoyne's 
description  of  the  burial  of — American  honor  to  the 
memory  of,  562. 

Fredericksburg,  encampment  of  Washington  at,  673. 

Fry,  Col.  Joshua,  in  command  of  troops  sent  to  the 
Ohio,  in  1754,  34  ;  death  of,  at  Will's  creek,  41. 

G. 

GABROWSKT,  Count,  killed  at  Fort  Montgomery,  552. 

Gadsden,  Col.,  in  command  of  Fort  Johnson,  near 
Charleston,  289  ;  refuses  liberty  on  parole,  793. 

Gage,  Col.  and  Gen.,  with  Braddock  at  the  Mononga- 
hela,  76  ;  appointed  governor  of  Massachusetts,  137; 
American  colonists  not  understood  by,  138  ;  design 
of,  to  seize  arms  and  ammunition  at  Concord — artil 
lery  and  ammunition  belonging  to  the  city  of  Boston 
seized  by,  140  ;  passes  refused  by — force  under  the 
command  of,  160  ;  proclamation  issued  by,  161  ; 
alarm  of,  after  the  battle  of  Breed's  hill,  181  ;  suf 
ferings  of  the  army  of,  190  ;  a  comrade  of  Washing 
ton  in  Braddock's  campaign — correspondence  with, 
in  relation  to  prisoners,  192  ;  superseded  by  Gen. 
Howe.  215. 

Gainey,  Major,  surprised  by  Gen.  Marion,  812. 

Gansevoort,  Col.  P.,  in  command  of  Fort  Stanwix,  512. 

Gardner,  Col.,  death  of,  at  Breed's  hill,  177. 

Garth,  Gen.,  ravages  of,  in  Connecticut,  in  conjunction 
with  Tryon,  697. 

Gates,  Horatio,  appointed  major-general,  biographical 
notice  of,  282  ;  letter  of,  to  Charles  Lee,  283  ;  com 
mand  of  the  Northern  army  claimed  by,  284  ;  claims 
of,  resisted  by  Gen.  Schuyler,  285  ;  troops  sent  by, 
to  reinforce  Washington,  intercepted  by  Gen.  Lee, 

407  ;  urged  by  Washington  to  hasten  to  Pittstown, 

408  ;   affected  by  the  capture  of   Lee — arrival   of, 
at  the  Delaware — suspicions  of,  413  ;  junction  of 
his  division  with  that  of  Washington,  414  ;  conduct 
of,  on  the  eve  of  the  attempt  upon  Trenton,  417; 
unwilling  to  accept  the  position  of  adjutant-general, 
458  ;  supersedes  Schuyler  in  command  of  the  North 
ern  army,  459  ;  restores  the  command  to  Schuyler, 
481  ;  requested  to  withdraw  from  the  floor  of  Con 
gress,   482  ;    appointed   by   Congress  to  supersede 
Schuyler  in  command  of  the  Northern  army — popu 
larity  of,  in  New  England — letter  of,  describing  the 
condition  of  his  command,  524  ;  charges  of  cruelty 
made  by,  denied  by  Burgoyne,  525  ;  army  of,  large 
ly  reinforced— officers  under  the  command  of,  537  ; 
scarcity  of  ammunition  in  the  camp  of,  546  ;  urged 
by  Arnold  to  attack  Burgoyne,  555  ;  his  slow  pur 
suit  of  Burgoyne,  564  ;    follows  Burgoyne  to  the 
Fishkill,  566  ;  mistaken  movement  ordered  by,  on 
Burgoyne's  camp,  570  ;  his  courtesy  towards  Burg 
oyne,  at  his  surrender,  573  ;  his  movements  towards 
Albany,  to  meet  Gen.  Vaughan,  576  ;  withholds  re 
inforcements  from  Washington,  587,  590  ;  improper 


conduct  of,  towards  Washington,  613  ;  appointed 
to  command  the  forces  in  the  South,  736  ;  prophetic 
caution  given  to,  by  Gen.  Lee — precipitate  march 
of,  to  meet  Lord  RaAvdon  at  Camden,  737  ;  priva 
tions  suffered  by  the  troops  of,  on  the  march,  738, 
739  ;  detachment  sent  by,  to  reinforce  Gen.  Sumter 
— reinforced  by  Gen.  Stevens,  with  Virginia  militia 
— junction  of  the  army  of,  with  Gen.  Caswell's 
militia,  739 ;  unexpected  meeting  of,  with  Corn- 
wallis'  army,  740  ;  total  defeat  of,  743  ;  miserable 
condition  of  the  wreck  of  his  army,  745  ;  British  as 
cendency  established  in  the  South  by  the  defeat  of 
— humiliation  of,  746  ;  wretched  condition  of  the 
army  of,  at  Hillsborough,  801  ;  superseded  by  Gen 
Greene — affected  by  the  kindness  of  Washington, 
805  ;  subsequent  career  of  (note),  809. 
George  III.,  destruction  of  the  leaden  effigy  of,  at  the 

Bowling-Green,  New  York,  306. 
Georgetown,  on  Winyaw  bay,  attacked  and  carried  by 

Marion,  864. 

Gerard,  M. ,  arrives  in  company  with  Silas  Deane,  from 
France,  659  ;  grand  dinner  given  to,  by  Arnold,  758. 
Germantown,  Washington  removes  his  camp  to,  503  ; 
retreat  of  Washington  to,  578  ;  encampment  of  Gen. 
Howe  at,  580  ;  position  of  the  British  at — plan  of 
attack  upon  the  British  in,  581  ;  night-march  to — 
British  at,  compelled  to  retreat — battle  at,  lost  by 
delay  at  Chew's  house,  582  ;  panic  among  the 
American  troops  at — British  nearly  defeated  at, 
583  ;  killed  and  wounded  at — retreat  of  Washington 
from,  to  Perkimen  creek,  584. 
Gibbon,  Lieut.,  forlorn  hope  led  by,  at  the  storming 

of  Stony  Point,  700. 

Gist,  Braddock's  guide,  narrow  escape  of,  73. 
Glasgow,  a  British  twenty-gun  ship,  escape  of,  269. 
Gloucester,  Va.,  investment  of,  by  French  and  Amer 
ican  troops,  909  ;  cavalry  skirmish  near,  910. 
Glover,  Col  ,  regiment  of,  from  Marblehead,  299  ;  at 
the  retreat  from  Long  island,  333  ;  services  of,  in 
removing  the  sick  and  stores,  349  ;  resists  Sir  W. 
Howe,   near  White  Plains,  375  ;    skirmishes  with 
Hessians,  381  ;    appointed    brigadier-general,  452  ; 
with  Gates  at  Stillwater,  537. 

Grant,  Col.  and  Gen.,  his  opinion  of  American  courage, 
139  ;  commands  British  troops  on  Long  island,  324  ; 
Stirling  attacks,  at  the  battle  of  Long  island,  326  ; 
out-manoeuvred  by  Lafayette  at  Matson's  ford,  625. 
Grant,  Major,  death  of,  at  Ilubbardton,  496. 
Graves,  Admiral,  attack  by  French  and  Americans 
upon  New  York  prevented  by  the  arrival  of,  754 
ships  of,  engage  those  of  Count  de  Grasse  off  the 
capes  of  Virginia — return  of,  with  his  crippled  fleet, 
to  New  York,  905. 
Gravesend,  Long  island,  landing  of  Howe's  troops  in 

the  neighborhood  of,  322. 

Graydon,  treatment  of,  while  a  prisoner,  441  ;  descrip 
tion  by,  of  Washington's  camp  at  Morristown,  473. 


9'3G 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


Great  Meadows,  a  position  chosen  by  Washington  in 
1754,  37  ;  Fort  Necessity  constructed  by  Washington 
at,  41  ;  arrival  of  Braddock  at,  72  ;  death  of  Brad- 
dock  at,  81. 
Great  Portage,  formidable  obstacles  presented  by,  to 

Arnold,  on  his  way  to  Quebec,  203. 
Greenburg,  encampment  of  the  French  and  American 

forces  on  the  hills  of,  898. 
Greene,  Col.  Christopher,  his  defense  of  Fort  Mercer, 

586  ;  murdered  by  Delancey's  men,  851. 
Greene,  Nathaniel,  joins  the  patriot  army  at  Cam 
bridge,  151  ;  commands  the  American  troops  on 
Long  island,  319  ;  sickness  of,  at  the  time  of  Howe's 
landing,  321  ;  urgency  of,  for  the  evacuation  of 
New  York,  340  ;  difficulty  of,  with  the  New  York 
militia,  383  ;  determined  to  defend  Fort  Washing 
ton,  385  ;  how  consoled  for  the  loss  of  the  fort,  393  ; 
covers  the  retreat  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandy  wine, 
535  ;  movements  of,  in  New  Jersey,  on  the  approach 
of  Clinton  and  Knyphausen,  749,  750;  supersedes 
Gates  in  the  southern  department,  805  ;  biographical 
notice  of,  806  ;  movements  of,  in  the  South,  809  ; 
efforts  of,  to  join  Morgan  after  the  battle  of  the 
Cowpens,  827  ;  destitute  condition  of  the  forces 
under,  828  ;  British  pursuit  of — narrow  escape  of — 
assistance  rendered  to,  830  ;  object  of,  in  retiring 
before  Cornwallis,  831 ;  sufferings  of  the  army  of, 
832  ;  receives  reinforcements — Fabian  policy  of,  837; 
attacked  by  Cornwallis  at  Guilford  courthouse,  838; 
retreats  to  Reedy  fork,  840  ;  retreats  to  Troublesome 
creek — pursues  Cornwallis,  842  ;  deserted  by  his 
militia,  843 ;  marches  into  South  Carolina,  854 ; 
surprised  by  Lord  Rawdon  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  856  ; 
gloomy  forebodings  of — cheered  by  the  news  that 
Rawdon  had  determined  to  evacuate  Camden,  861  ; 
Ninety-Six  besieged  by,  864  ;  retreat  of ,  pursued  by 
Rawdon — siege  of  Ninety-Six  abandoned  by,  on  the 
approach  of  Rawdon,  870  ;  encampment  of,  on  the 
High  hills  of  the  Santee,  873;  activity  of  the  cavalry 
of ,  882  ;  movement  of,  towards  Eutaw  Springs,  883  ; 
attacks  the  British  at  Eutaw  Springs,  884  ;  returns 
to  the  High  hills  of  the  Santee — reinforcements  re 
ceived  by,  891  ;  resumes  offensive  operations.  892  ; 
attempts  of,  to  drive  the  British  into  Charleston, 
893  ;  panic  in  the  garrison  of  Dorchester  on  the  ap 
proach  of,  894  ;  peaceable  evacuation  of  Charleston 
permitted  by,  on  conditions,  895. 

"  Green  Mountain   Boys"    and   the   New-Hampshire 
grants,  152  ;  hostility  of  Arnold  towards,  195  ;  ser 
vices  rendered  by.  under  Seth  Warner,  201. 
Grenadiers,  British,  burned  alive  by  Indians,  83. 
Grey,  Sir  C.,   depredations  of,  at  New  Bedford   and 
Martha's  Vineyard,    COS  ;    light  horse  under    Col. 
Baylor  surprised  by,  674. 

Gridley,  Col.  R.,  marks  out  lines  on  Breed's  hill,  103. 
Griffin,  Col.,  attention  of  Count  Donop  diverted  by, 
during  the  attack  upon  Trenton,  423 


Griffiths,  Rev.  David,  warning  given  to  Washington 
by,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Mon mouth,  638 

Guilford  courthouse,  battle  at,  838  ;  killed  and 
wounded  at— a  dear  victory  to  the  British,  841. 

Guiiby,  Col.,  regiment  of,  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  858. 

H. 

HACKENSACK,  encampment  of  Washington  at,  386. 

Hale,  Capt.  Nathan,  hanged  as  a  spy,  348. 

Hale,  Col.,  flight  of,  with  a  militia  regiment  at  Hub- 

bardton — surrender  of,  to  British  troops,  496. 
Halket,  Sir  Peter,  colonel  of  one  of  Braddock's  regi 
ments,   54  ;    death  of,  and  his  son,   at  Braddock's 
defeat,  78. 

Hamilton,  Alexander,  biographical  notices  of,  266,  459; 
personal  appearance  of  (note),  267  ;  good  conduct  of, 
at  White  Plains,  379  ;  British  held  in  check  at 
Brunswick  by  the  artillery  of,  405  ;  received  into 
the  military  "family"  of  Washington,  459  ;  affec 
tionate  treatment  of,  by  Washington,  460  ;  rein 
forcements  for  Washington's  army  obtained  by, 
from  Putnam  and  Gates,  590  ;  Washington  aband 
ons  the  scheme  of  seizing  the  person  of  Clinton  by 
the  advice  of,  623  ;  Arnold's  treason  made  known 
by,  to  Washington,  778  ;  sympathy  of,  for  Andre, 
783 ;  storms  a  British  redoubt  at  Yorktown — 
misunderstanding  of,  with  Washington  (note),  913. 
Hampton,  Col.  Wade,  dragoons  made  prisoners  by,  874. 
Hancock,  John,  an  early  friend  of  the  popular  cause, 
141  ;  desirous  to  be  made  commander-iu-chief,  157. 
Hand,  Col.,  wheat  destroyed  by,  on  Long  island,  322  ; 

appointed  brigadier-general  by  Congress,  452. 
Harlem,  position  of  both  armies  at  the  battle  of,  353  ; 

death  of  Col.  Knowlton  and  Major  Leitch  at,  354. 
Hartford,  Washington  visits,  to  meet  Rochambeau,  763. 
Haslet,  Col.,  conduct  of  the  Dela wares  and  Maryland- 
era  commanded  by,  at  the  battle  of  Long  island,  327. 
Haw  river,  party  of  loyalists  under  Col.  Pyle  surprised 

near,  835  ;  retreat  of  Tarleton  across,  836. 
Hayne,  Col.  Isaac,  executed  in  Charleston,  879;  case  of, 
similar  to  that  of  Andre — proclamation  issued  by 
Gen.  Greene  relative  to  the  execution  of,  881. 
Hazelwood,  Commodore,  Hessians  at  Fort  Mercer  fired 

upon  by,  586  ;  thanks  voted  to,  by  Congress,  587. 
Heath,  Gen  ,  commands  the  provincials  at  Lexington, 
148  ;  biographical  notice  of,  375  ;  forts  under  the 
command  of,  385  ;  orders  of  Gen.  Lee  disregarded 
by,  396  ;  Lee's  attempt  to  get  two  of  his  regiments, 
401  ;  certificate  given  to,  by  Lee,  402  ;  letter  of 
Washington  to,  438  ;  movements  of,  near  Fort  Inde 
pendence  and  Kingsbridge,  439  ;  his  conduct  at 
Fort  Independence  criticised,  440 ;  appointed  to 
receive  Rochambeau  at  Newport,  754. 
Heights  of  Abraham,  how  ascended,  by  the  army  of 

Wolfe,  127. 

Henderson,  Col.,  night-sortie  made  by,  from  Charles- 
ton,  727  ;  wounded  at  Eutaw  Springs,  886. 


I  AND  II.] 


INDEX. 


937 


Henley,  Major  Thomas,  death  of,  in  an  attempt  upon 
Montressor's  island,  358. 

Henry,  Patrick,  urges  a  levy  of  troops  in  Virginia,  238. 

Herkimer,  Gen.,  efforts  of,  to  relieve  Fort  Stanwix, 
513  ;  ambuscade  laid  for  the  troops  of,  514  ;  strug 
gle  of  the  troops  of,  with  the  "Johnson  Greens" — 
death  of,  515. 

Hessians,  ferocity  of,  at  the  battle  of  Long  island, 
329  ;  surrender  of,  at  the  battle  of  Trenton,  422 ; 
humanity  of  Washington  towards,  440  ;  their  slow 
march  to  Bennington,  518,  521,  522 ;  forbidding 
aspect  of,  to  the  Philadelphians,  580. 

High  hills  of  the  Santee,  Greene's  encampment  on, 
873  ,  Greene  resumes  his  position  on,  891. 

Highlands  of  the  Hudson,  militia  ordered  up  to,  372  ; 
measures  taken  for  the  protection  of,  673  ;  position 
of  Washington's  army  in,  701. 

Hillsborough,  condition  of  Gates'  army  at,  801  ; 
attempt  of  Cornwallis  to  raise  recruits  in,  833  ; 
abandoned  by  Cornwallis,  836. 

Ilinman,  Capt.,  services  of,  at  sea,  in  the  Alfred,  592. 

Hobkirk's  hill,  battle  at,  856  ;  losses  at,  860. 

Holland,  independence  of  the  United  States  acknow 
ledged  by,  after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  577. 

Hood,  Sir  S.,  arrives  with  a  fleet  at  New  York,  904. 

Hopkins,  Commodore,  cruise  of,  268  ;  censure  of.  270. 

Horseneck,  salt-works  destroyed  by  Tryon  at,  696. 

Howard,  Col.,  charge  of,  at  the  battle  of  the  Cowpens, 
817  ;  silver  medal  presented  to,  818. 

Howe,  Admiral  Lord  K.,  arrives  in  New  York  bay — 
biographical  notice  of — proclamation  by — his  early 
intimacy  with  Franklin,  309  ;  intends  to  cut  off  the 
retreat  from  Long  island,  332  ;  committee  of  Con 
gress  appointed  to  meet,  at  Staten  island — reply  of 
Franklin  to  a  letter  of,  342 ;  reception  by,  of  the 
committee  from  Congress,  344,  345 ;  conversation 
of  the  committee  with,  345  ;  success  of  the  proclam 
ation  issued  by,  404  ;  residence  of,  in  Philadelphia, 
605  ;  prepares  to  receive  D'Estaing  at  Sandy  Hook, 
659  ;  arrives  off  Rhode  island,  in  search  of  D'Estaing, 
661  ;  his  fleet  dispersed  by  a  storm,  662  ;  return  of 
his  fleet  to  New  York,  to  refit,  663. 

Howe,  Col.  and  Gen.  Sir  W.,  in  Wolfe's  expedition 
against  Quebec,  109  ;  arrival  at  Boston,  in  1775  160  ; 
attack  on  Breed's  hill  intrusted  to — biographical 
notice  of — character  of,  167  ;  address  to  his  soldiers 
at  Breed's  hill,  171  ;  artillery  of,  at  Breed's  hill,  172  ; 
his  courage  at  Breed's  hill,  174  ;  wounded  at  Breed's 
hill,  176 ;  assumes  chief  command  in  Boston,  215  ; 
fortifications  strengthened  by — harshness  towards 
the  patriots  in  Boston,  216  ;  Boston  spared  by,  248  ; 
impatience  of,  to  get  away  from  Boston,  250  ;  proc 
lamations  issued  by,  251  ;  uncertainty  of  the  move 
ments  of,  272  ;  arrives  in  the  bay  of  New  York,  301 ; 
awaits  the  arrival  of  Admiral  Howe,  302  ;  assistance 
from  tories  expected  by.  306  ;  superiority  of  the 
forces  of,  315  ;  plan  of  attack  on  Long  island,  324  ; 


his  movements  after  the  battle  of  Long  island,  329  ; 
unwilling  to  believe  that  the  Americans  had  left 
the  island,  336  ;  inactivity  within  his  lines — rein 
forcements  from  England  desired  by,  360  ;  moves 
towards  Throgg's  Point  and  New  llochelle,  372  ; 
alarmed  at  the  defeat  of  the  Hessians  at  Trenton, 
427  ;  his  movements  in  the  spring  of  1777,  453  ;  his 
plan  for  the  campaign  of  1777,  461  ;  his  designs  un 
known  to  Washington,  462  ;  his  movements  near 
Brunswick,  478,  479  ;  real  object  of  the  movements 
of,  478  ;  retreats  from  Brunswick  to  Amboy  and 
Staten  island,  480  ;  perplexing  movements  of,  502  ; 
his  arrival  in  the  Chesapeake,  529  ;  lands  on  the 
banks  of  the  Elk  river,  530  ;  before  the  battle  of 
the  Brandywine,  531  ;  encampment  of,  at  German- 
town,  580  ;  indolence  of,  in  Philadelphia,  606  ;  com 
mand  of  the  army  resigned  by,  607  ;  the  Mischianza 
got  up  in  honor  of,  607-612  ;  careful  of  the  lives 
and  comfort  of  his  men;  629. 

Howe,  Earl  Edward,  death  of,  at  Ticonderoga,  104. 

Howe,  Gen.  Robert,  expedition  of,  against  tories  in 
Florida,  686  ;  defeat  of,  near  Savannah — tried  by  a 
court-martial  and  acquitted,  687  ;  superseded  by 
Gen.  Lincoln,  689  ;  mutiny  at  Pompton  suppressed 
by,  824. 

Hudson  river,  measures  taken  by  the  Clintons  for  the 
defense  of,  308  ;  British  vessels-of-war  sail  up,  371  ; 
Washington's  efforts  to  obstruct,  372  ;  forts  on, 
feebly  garrisoned  at  the  time  of  Sir  H.  Clinton's 
advance,  548. 

Huger,  Gen.,  surprised  at  Mark's  Corner,  725;  junction 
of,  with  Greene  and  Morgan,  at  Guilford  court 
house,  831  ;  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  856. 

Huger,  Maj.B.,  and  twelve  men,  killed  by  mistake,  692. 

Huinber  river,  vessels  destroyed  in,  by  Paul  Jones,  704. 

I. 

INDIANS,  in  the  camp  of  Braddock,  65  ;  cruelty  of,  to 
English  prisoners,  83 ;  visitors  at  the  camp  at 
Cambridge,  220;  humanity  of  Burgoyne's  directions 
to,  486 ;  Burgoyne  unable  to  restrain,  510. 

Isis  and  Caesar,  French  and  English  ships,  battle 
between,  in  1778,  662. 

Isle  aux  Noix,  Montgomery  and  Schuyler  at,  197. 

J. 

JACKSON,  Col.  M. ,  attempt  on  Montressor's  island,  un 
dertaken  by,  356. 

Jameson,  Col.,  his  disposition  of  Major  Andre  and  his 
papers — unwilling  to  believe  Arnold  guilty  of 
treason,  774. 

James  river,  ravages  of  Arnold  on,  820  ;  Lafayette 
and  Wayne  deceived  by  Cornwallis  at,  850. 

Jasper,  Sergeant,  courage  displayed  by,  at  Fort  Sulli 
van,  295  ;  mortally  wounded  at  the  siege  of  Savan 
nah,  717. 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  efforts  of,  to  save  Richmond  from 


938 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


the  British  under  Arnold — narrow  escape  of,  from 
Arnold.  820  :  reward  offered  by,  for  the  capture  of 
Arnold,  821  ;  escape  from  Tarleton's  dragoons,  848. 

John's  island,  Sir  H.  Clinton  lands  his  troops  on— Pre 
vost  sends  reinforcements  to,  722  ;  attempt  to  dis 
lodge  the  British  from,  894. 

Johnson,  Col.,  attacked  by  Wayne  at  Stony  Point,  099. 

Johnson,  Col.,  William,  biographical  notice  of,  87  ; 
Baron  Dieskau  defeated  by,  at  Lake  George,  89. 

Johnson,  Sir  John,  operations  of  General  Schuyler  to 
counteract  the  plans  of,  236  ;  Highlanders  of,  dis 
armed  by  Schuyler,  237  ;  trick  played  upon,  and  St. 
Leger,  by  Indians,  528. 

Johnstone,  Gov. ,  his  language  relative  to  the  battle 
of  Bunker's  hill,  178  ;  British  commissioner,  629. 

Jones,  John  Paul,  biographical  notice  of,  6GG  ;  squad 
ron  placed  under  the  command  of,  by  the  French 
government,  702  ;  cruise  of,  before  meeting  with 
the  Serapis  and  Countess  of  Scarborough,  702-704  ; 
account  of  his  capture  of  the  Serapis,  705-710  ; 
language  ascribed  to,  on  receiving  the  sword  of 
Capt.  Pearson  (note),  710. 

Jonquiere,  failure  of,  to  recapture  Louisburg,  31  ;  fleet 
of,  defeated  and  captured  off  Cape  Finisterre,  32. 

Jumonville,  death  of,  38  ;  claimed  to  have  been  assas 
sinated,  38,  44,  4G  ;  a  spy  as  well  as  an  embassador, 
39  ;  remains  of,  buried  by  Do  Villiers,  45. 

K. 

KIVGSBRIDGE,  intrenchmcnts  thrown  up  at,  by  Mifflin, 
297  ;  headquarters  of  Washington  at,  341  ;  secret 
expedition  against,  proposed  by  Washington,  477. 

King's  mountain,  account  of  the  battle  of,  795-801  ; 
monument  erected  at  the  scene  of  the  battle  of,  801  ; 
plans  of  Cornwaliis  changed  by  the  battle  of,  802. 

Kirkwood,  Capt.,  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  884. 

Kittanning,  destroyed  by  a  force  under  Armstrong,  96. 

Knowlton,  Capt. ,  battery  erected  by,  at  Breed's  hill, 
170  ;  mortally  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Harlem,  354. 

Knox,  Col.  and  Gen.,  arrival  of,  with  artillery,  at 
Cambridge,  243  ;  celebrates  the  anniversary  of  the 
French  alliance,  683  ;  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  911. 

Knox,  Lieut.,  forlorn  hope  led  by,  at  Stony  Point.  700. 

Knyphausen,  Gen.,  reinforces  Sir  W.  Howe  with 
Hessians,  375  ;  sent  by  Howe  to  take  possession  of 
Kingsbridge,  384  ;  at  the  investment  of  Fort  Wash 
ington,  387  ;  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  532, 
534 :  incursion  into  New  Jersey  ordered  by,  720 ; 
New  York  left  to  the  care  of,  by  Sir  H.  Clinton,  721  ; 
incursion  of,  into  New  Jersey,  747  ;  movements  of, 
in  New  Jersey,  748-750  ;  reinforced  by  Clinton,  749. 

Kosciusko,  Thaddeus,  impression  produced  upon 
Washington  by,  471  ;  biographical  notice  of — com 
mended  by  Franklin  to  Washington,  472  ;  fortifi 
cation  of  Mount  Independence  intrusted  to,  486  ; 
works  at  West  Point  put  under  the  supervision  of, 
701  ;  Greene's  engineer  at  the  siege  of  Ninety  Six, 


865  ;  in  command  of  light-troops  near  Charleston — 
subsequent  career  of,  (note),  894. 

L. 

LAFAYETTE,  Marquis  de,  first  meeting  of  Washing 
ton  with — biographical  notice  of,  504  ;  arrives  at 
Charleston — his  description  of  Charleston,  506  ; 
appointed  major-general  —  his  anxiety  for  com 
mand,  507  ;  his  appearance,  508  ;  wounded  at  the 
battle  of  the  Brandywine,  534;  in  charge  of  the  Mora 
vians — impatience  of,  for  action — narrow  escape  of, 
from  British  dragoons,  594  ;  skirmish  of,  with 
Hessians — commended  by  Washington — appointed 
to  the  command  of  Stephen's  division,  595  ;  attempt 
to  make  an  instrument  of,  in  an  expedition  against 
Canada,  618  ;  returns  to  Washington,  at  Valley 
Forge,  619  ;  retreats  from  Barren  Hill,  624  ;  dis 
satisfied  with  Lee's  extreme  caution,  637  ;  with 
Washington,  on  the  night  after  the  battle  of  Mou- 
mouth.  630  ;  in  the  expedition  against  Rhode  island, 
660  ;  scheme  of,  to  invade  Canada,  679  ;  returns  to 
France,  G80  ;  his  reception  in  France — appointed  to 
the  command  of  the  dragoons  of  the  king's  guard, 
681  ;  returns  to  America  in  1780,  751  ;  his  reception 
by  Congress,  752 ;  equips  his  corps  at  his  own 
expense,  755  ;  Cornwaliis  unable  to  force  him  to 
action,  847  ;  junction  of,  with  Wayne  and  Steuben, 
849  ;  retires  up  James  river  to  Green  springs,  850; 
his  plans  to  prevent  the  escape  of  Cornwaliis  by 
land,  896  ;  refuses  to  attack  Cornwaliis  before  the 
arrival  of  Washington  and  Rochambeau,  907. 

Lake  Champlain,  movements  of  Arnold  on,  193  ; 
British  fleet  on — naval  engagement  on,  367. 

Lake  George,  encampment  of  Col.  William  Johnson 
on  the  banks  of,  described  by  Bancroft — named  by 
Col.  Johnson,  88. 

Lamb,  Capt.,  ice  battery  of,  destroyed  at  Quebec,  210  ; 
part  of  his  jaw-bone  shot  away  at  Quebec,  212  ; 
wounded  during  Tryon's  retreat  from  Danbury, 
468  ;  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown.  911. 

Laurens,  Col.  John,  envoy  to  France,  902,  903  ;  Major 
Campbell  made  prisoner  by,  at  Yorktown,  914; 
death  of — succeeded  by  Kosciusko,  894. 

Laurens,  Henry,  exchanged  for  General  Burgoyne,  925. 

Lauzun,  accompanies  Itochambeati  to  America,  753. 

Learned,  Col.  and  Gen,,  Washington  and  Howe  agree 
to  spare  Boston,  through  the  agency  of,  248  ;  ap 
pointed  brigadier-general,  452  ;  with  Gates  at  Still- 
water,  537. 

Lechmere's  Point,  attack  upon  British  soldiers  at,  223  ; 
fortifications  erected  on,  by  Washington,  226. 

Ledyard,  Col.,  killed  by  Major  Bromfield,  at  Fort 
Griswold,  after  its  surrender,  906. 

Lee,  Gen.  Charles,  at  Prospect  hill ,  189;  biograph 
ical  notice  of — called  "Boiling  Water"  by  tho 
Mohawks— under  Burgoyne  in  Portugal — made  a 
brigadier  general— personal  appearance  of,  229  ; 


I  AND   IT.] 


INDEX. 


939 


impiety  of,  230  ;  operations  of,  against  the  New  York 
tories,  235,  23G;  ordered  to  take  command  of  the  army 
in  Canada — sent  to  the  South — Washington's  opin 
ion  of  the  capacity  of,  258  ;  letter  of,  to  Washington, 
259  ;  at  the  defense  of  Charleston — Fort  Sullivan 
strengthened  by,  290  ;  remarkable  general  orders  of, 
290,  291 ;  Charleston  pronounced  defenseless  by,  296  ; 
return  of,  from  the  South,  372  ;  commands  a  divis 
ion  at  Kingsbridge — reputation  of,  much  increased 
by  his  success  in  the  South — letter  of,  respecting 
the  probable  movement  of  Howe,  373  ;  recommends 
a  change  of  position  of  the  army — opposed  to  hold 
ing  Fort  Washington,  374  ;  anecdote  of,  at  White 
Plains — high  opinion  held  by  Washington  of  the 
military  talents  of,  377  ;  in  command  at  Newcastle, 

385  ;  efforts  of,  to  induce  his  militiamen  to  remain, 

386  ;  mortification  of,  at  the  loss  of  Fort  Washing 
ton,  392  ;  urged  by  Washington  to  come  to  his  aid 
in  New  Jersey,  395  ;  reasons  given  by,  for  remain 
ing  at  Newcastle,  396  ;  letters  written  to,  by  Gen. 
Reed  and  others,  397  ;  motives  of,  in  disobeying  the 
orders  of  Washington — letter  of,  to  Reed,  read  by 
Washington,  399  ;    letter  of,  from   Peekskill,  ad 
dressed  to  Washington — efforts  of,  to  get  two  of 
Heath's  regiments,  401  ;  Hudson  river  crossed  by, 
402  ;  his  purpose  of  acting  independently,  403  ;  his 
continued  neglect  of  the  summons  of  Washington — 
Col.  Hampton  sent  to,  by  Washington,  for  informa 
tion — impudence  of   the    reply  of — success    of,  in 
recruiting  in  New  Jersey,  406  ;  unwillingness  of,  to 
leave  Chatham — regiments  intercepted  by,  407  ;  ac 
count  of  the   capture   of,  410  ;   designs  of,   at  the 
time  of  his  capture — letter  of,  to  Gates — capture  of, 
supposed  to  have  been  made  by  collusion,  412  ;  cap 
ture   of,    calmly   spoken  of  by  Washington,   413  ; 
a  prisoner  in  New  York,  443  ;  requests  that  dele 
gates  be  sent  to  him  from  Congress,  to  receive  a 
communication— -non-compliance  of  Congress  with 
his    reqiiest — Washington's    sympathy    for,    449  ; 
treatment  of,  while  a  prisoner — exchanged  for  the 
British  general  Prescott,  618  ;  opinions  of,  unfav 
orable  to  a  general  attack  on  Sir  H  Clinton,  632  ; 
resigns  his  command  to  Lafayette — anxiety  of,  to 
resume  his  command,  633  ;  ordered  to  form  a  junc 
tion  with  Lafayette  at  Englishtown,  634  ;  ordered 
to  attack  Clinton's  rear — contradictory  intelligence 
brought  to,  respecting  Clinton's  movements,   635  ; 
line  formed  by,  on  the  plains  of  Monmouth — mes 
sage  sent  by,  to  Washington,  636  ;  confusion  in  the 
orders  of — movement  of  Washington  in  support  of 
— intelligence  of  the  retreat  of,  given  to  Washing 
ton,  637  ;  a  traitor,  according  to  the  belief  of  many 
— Washington  warned  against,  on  the  eve  of  the 
battle  of  Monmouth — language  of  Washington  to, 
638  ;  subsequent  conduct  of.  on  the  field  of  Mon 
mouth,  039  ;  court-martial  assembled  at  Brunswick 
to  try,  642  ;  letters  written  by   to  Washington,  642, 

I-d 


643  ;  skilful  defense  made  by,  643  ;  sentenced  by 
the  court-martial  —  duel  fought  by,  with  Col. 
Laurens — hostility  of,  to  W.  H.  Drayton,  of  South 
Carolina,  644  ;  malevolence  of,  towards  Washing 
ton,  644,  645  ;  summarily  dismissed  from  the  army 
— his  eccentric  mode  of  life  in  Virginia — death  of, 
645  ;  will  left  by — strange  conduct  of,  at  Valley 
Forge,  646  ;  conduct  of,  at  Monmouth,  justified  by 
some — treason  of,  proved,  (note)  —  Washington's 
conduct  towards,  not  influenced  by  personal  feel 
ings,  647  ;  ranked  with  the  traitors  Church  and 
Arnold,  648. 

Lee,  Capt.  and  Gen.,  services  of,  as  a  cavalry  officer 
— biographical  notice  of,  530  ;  skirmish  of,  at  Derby, 
622  ;  his  surprise  of  Paul  us  Hook,  711  ;  medal 
awarded  to,  712  ;  bridge  at  Springfield  defended  by, 
750  ;  deception  practiced  by,  upon  Col.  Pyle,  834  ; 
at  the  siege  of  Ninety-Six,  866  ;  attempts  to  set  fire  to 
the  fort  at,  867  ;  prisoners  taken  by,  from  Rawdon's 
cavalry,  872  ;  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  886. 

Leitch,  Major,  death  of,  at  the  battle  of  Harlem,  354. 

Leith,  descent  upon,  proposed  by  Paul  Jones,  704. 

Leslie,  Capt. ,  defeated  near  Norfolk,  by  Virginia  rifle 
men,  240  ;  death  of,  at  the  battle  of  Princeton,  436. 

Leslie,  Gen.,  arrives  at  Charleston,  with  reinforce 
ments  for  Cornwallis,  814  ;  British  under,  confined 
to  the  neighborhood  of  Charleston,  894 ;  prepares 
to  evacuate  Charleston,  895. 

Lexington,  battle  of — minute  men  fired  upon  at,  143  ; 
killed  and  wounded  at  the  battle  of,  149  ;  effect  in 
England  of  the  news  of  the  battle  of,  157  ;  relief 
from  England  for  the  sufferers  by  the  battle  of,  217. 

Lincoln,  Gen.  Ben.,  appointed  major-general,  452; 
driven  out  of  Boundbrook  by  Cornwallis,  464  ;  joins 
Gates  with  New  Hampshire  militia,  546  ;  Gen.  R. 
Howe  superseded  by,  in  the  Soutli — biographical 
notice  of,  689;  loss  sustained  by,  at  Brier  creek, 
690  ;  attack  of,  on  John's  island,  694  ;  his  siege  of 
Savannah,  7L4;  his  defense  of  Charleston,  against 
Sir  H.  Clinton,  723  ;  attacked  by  the  British  on 
Harlem  river — expedition  of,  against  Delancey's 
corps,  at  Morrisania,  898  ;  opens  the  first  parallel 
at  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  912  ;  appointed  to  con 
duct  the  surrender  of  Yorktown,  919. 

Little  Egg  Harbor,  expedition  against,  by  Capt. 
Ferguson — shipping  and  buildings  burned  at,  675. 

Little  Meadows,  arrival  of  Braddock  at,  70. 

Livingston,  Col.,  with  Gates  at  Stillwater,  537. 

Livingston,  Gov.,  letter  of  Washington  to,  anticlpA 
ting  an  attack  by  Howe  on  Fort  Washington,  383  ; 
assistance  requested  from,  by  Washington,  394, 
404 ;  improved  organization  of  the  New  Jersey 
militia  suggested  to,  by  Washington,  451. 

Long  island,  intrcnchments  thrown  up  on,  297  ;  Gen. 
Greene  in  command  of  the  American  troops  on,  319; 
Greene's  account  of  the  tories  in,  320  ;  landing  on, 
of  the  troops  of  Gen.  Howe — language  of  Washing- 


940 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


ton  to  the  troops  sent  to,  322  ;  Howe's  plan  of  at 
tack  on,  324 ;  battle  of,  325  ;  American  officers  out- 
generalled  at  tlie  battle  of,  327  ;  comparative  losses 
at,  329;  arrival  at,  of  the  battallions  of  Shee,  Magaw, 
and  Glover,  330  ;  retreat  of  the  American  army 
from,  333  ;  Howe's  ignorance  of  the  American  re 
treat  from,  335  ;  American  army  demoralized  by  the 
defeat  in,  338  ;  abundance  of  tories  in,  360. 

Loudoun,  earl  of,  sent  to  America  as  general -in-chief, 
93  ;  arrives  at  Albany,  94  ;  expedition  of,  against 
Louisburg,  98  ;  superseded  by  Gen  Amherst,  100. 

Louisburg,  fortifications  of,  6  ;  plan  for  the  capture 
of,  7  ;  arrival  of  the  fleet  at,  16  ;  coup  do  main 
upon,  abandoned,  18  ;  sufferings  at  the  siege  of— 
summoned  to  surrender,  19  ;  plans  for  a  general 
attack  on,  22,  26  ;  information  given  by  a  deserter 
from,  24 ;  general  attack  upon,  27  ;  surrender  of, 
to  Pepperell — -ammunition  and  stores  found  in,  28  ; 
deception  practised  on  French  ships  at — effect  in 
London  of  the  news  of  the  capture  of,  29  ;  influence 
of  the  capture  of,  30  ;  expedition  for  the  recapture 
of — failure  of  the  expedition  against,  31  ;  ceded  to 
France  by  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  32  ;  Am- 
herst's  expedition  against,  100,  102  ;  unconditional 
surrender  of,  103. 

Lovell,  Gen.,  in  command  of  Massachusetts  militia 
men,  sent  against  McLean,  at  Penobscot  bay,  713. 

Luzerne,  M.  de  la,  refuses  to  loan  money  to  Arnold, 
760  ;  interview  of  Washington  with,  at  Fishkill,  776. 


,  Jane,  story  of  the  murder  of,  510  ;  attempt 

of  Burgoyne  to  punish  the  murderer  of,  511  ;  Bur- 

goyne  charged  with  procuring  the  murder  of,  525. 
Macdonald,  Capt. ,  at  the  siege  of  Louisburg,  25. 
Macdonald,  Donald,  at  the  heights  of  Abraham,  127. 
M'Donald,    Donald,   royal   standard   unfurled  by,  in 

North  Carolina,  in  1776,  241  ;  defeat  of,  at  Moore's- 

crcek  bridge,  242. 
M'Dougall,   Gen.,    succeeds    Heath  in   command   at 

Peekskill,  462  ;  ruse  practised  upon,  by  Gen.  Howe, 

463  ;  substituted  for  Putnam  in  the  command  of 

West  Point,  696. 

M'Leod,  Col.,  death  of,  at  Moore's  creek  bridge,  242. 
Macpherson,  Allan,  escapes  Indian  torture,  106. 
Magaw,  Col. ,  in  command  at  Fort  Washington,  385  ; 

his  reply  to  Howe's  summons  to  surrender,  388  ; 

compelled  to  surrender  Fort  Washington,  392. 
Mahan,  Capt. ,  British  position  at  Monk's  Corner  taken 

by,  891. 
Maitland,  Col.,  at  the  siege  of  Savannah,  715  ;  death 

of,  a  few  days  after  the  raising  of  the  siege,  718. 
Malmedy,  M.,  Washington  annoyed  by  the  complaints 

of,  470  ;  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  884. 
Manchester,  Va. ,  stores  and  tobacco  destroyed  at,  845. 
Manly,    Capt.,  commander  of  one  of  the   schooners 

fitted  out  by  Washington,  220  ;  British  brig  Nancy 


taken  by,  223  ;  continued  successes  of,  224. 

Manning,  Lieut.,  Simms's  account  of  his  capture  of 
Major  Barry  at  Eutaw  Springs,  890. 

Marion,  Gen.  Francis,  biographical  notice  of,  732  ; 
miserable  equipments  of  his  men,  738  ;  exploits  of, 
in  South  Carolina,  794;  title  of  "Swamp  Fox" 
given  to — privations  endured  by  men  under,  812  ; 
failure  of  his  attack  on  the  British  at  Georgetown, 
on  Winyaw  bay — anecdote  of  a  British  officer  in 
vited  to  dine  with — camp  formed  by,  on  Snow's 
island,  813  ;  operations  of,  in  South  Carolina — attack 
upon,  by  Cols.  Watson  and  Doyle,  852  ;  his  brigade 
dissatisfied  with  Sumter's  partiality,  878  ;  on  the 
Santee,  879  ;  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  884. 

Marjoribanks,  Major,  at  Eutaw  Springs,  885. 

Martha's  Vineyard,  the  inhabitants  of,  levied  on,  065. 

Martin,  Gov.  of  North  Carolina,  proceedings  of,  241. 

Maryland,  backwardness  of,  in  affording  aid  to  Brad- 
dock,  59  ;  brigades  from,  at  the  battle  of  Camden, 
742  ;  troops  from,  at  Guilford  courthouse,  840. 

Massachusetts,  aid  from,  to  the  expedition  against 
Louisburg,  8  ;  first  in  resistance  to  British  tyranny, 
137  ;  expedition  from,  to  Penobscot  bay,  712. 

Mathew,  Gen.,  at  the  investment  of  Fort  Wasa- 
ington,  387  ;  ravages  of,  in  Virginia,  in  1779,  695. 

Mawhood,  Col.,  collision  of, with  Gen.  Hugh  Mercer,  433. 

Maxwell,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  532  ; 
mutiny  on  the  part  of  the  officers  of,  prevented,  082. 

Megantic,  Lake,  arrival  of  Arnold  at,  205. 

Meigs,  Col. ,  stores  destroyed  by,  at  Sag  Harbor,  475. 

Mercer,  Gen.  Hugh,  at  Amboy,  on  the  approach  of 
Sir  W.  Howe,  302  ;  ordered  to  occupy  Forts  Con 
stitution  and  Lee,  339  ;  collision  of,  with  Col.  Maw- 
hood,  433  ;  his  riflemen  overcome  by  the  British, 
434  ;  left  for  dead  on  the  field  of  battle,  435,  436  • 
biographical  notice  of,  436. 

Mercier,  the  constructor  of  Fort  Duquesne,  40. 

Messerve,  Col.,  makes  cannon -si  edges  at  Louisburg,  18. 

Middlebrook,  American  camp  shifted  to,  from  Morris- 
town,  478  ;  strength  of  the  American  position  at,  479. 

Mifflin,  Gen.  T.,  biographical  notice  of,  297  ;  at  Kings- 
bridge  and  Fort  Washington,  302  ;  takes  reinforce 
ments  to  Brooklyn,  331  ;  at  the  retreat  from  Long 
island,  332  ;  retreats  from  the  lines,  through  mis 
take,  334  ;  sent  to  make  known  to  Congress  the 
straits  of  the  American  army,  394 ;  appointed 
major-general,  452. 

Miles,  Col.,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Long  island,  324. 

Militia,  opinions  as  to  the  inefficiency  of,  338,  339  ; 
bad  conduct  of,  at  WThite  Plains,  378  ;  order  of 
Washington  to  encourage,  879  ;  their  dread  of  cav 
alry,  380;  unreliability  of,  428;  Virginia,  throw  down 
their  loaded  arms  at  the  battle  of  Camden,  742. 

Mininsink  settlement,  ravaged  by  Brant,  in  1779,  679. 

MiscManza,  got  up  in  honor  of  Sir  W.  Howe,  in  Phila 
delphia,  607-612;  language  of  Paine  respecting,  612. 

Mohawks,  expedition  against,under  Gen.  Sullivan,  677. 


I  AND  II. J 


INDEX. 


941 


Monakatuca,  made  prisoner  by  French  and  Indians, 
71  ;  his  son  killed  by  mistake,  by  Braddock's  men,  74, 

Monckton,  Gen.  Kobert,  in  Wolfe's  expedition  against 
Quebec,  109  ;  Point  Levi,  taken  by,  114  ;  death  of, 
at  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  640. 

Moncrieff,  (engineer)  at  the  defense  of  Savannah,  716. 

Money,  continental,  great  depreciation  of,  604. 

Monk's  Corner,  Gen.  Huger  and  Col.  Washington 
surprised  at,  by  Tarleton,  725  ;  escape  of  the  British 
under  Col.  Coates,  from  Sumter  at,  875. 

Monmouth,  position  of  the  British  before  the  battle 
of,  634  ;  battle  of,  635-640  ;  fatal  effects  of  the 
excessive  heat  at  the  battle  of — killed  and  wounded 
at,  641. 

Monongahela,  fords  of,  passed  by  Braddock,  75  ;  de 
feat  of  Braddock  at  the,  76  ;  losses  at  the,  83. 

Monroe,  Col.  James,  at  the  battle  of  Trenton,  421. 

Montcalm,  Marquis  de,  biographical  notice  of,  94  ; 
operations  of,  against  Oswego,  95  ;  expedition  of, 
against  Fort  William  Henry,  99  ;  vexation  of,  at 
the  loss  of  Point  Levi,  115  ;  thwarted  by  Vaudreuil, 
124  ;  letter  of,  to  M.  de  Mole,  125  ;  unwilling  to 
believe  the  English  had  attained  the  plains  of 
Abraham,  127  ;  disposition  of  his  forces  when  at 
tacking  Wolfe,  128  ;  his  conduct  on  the  field  of 
battle,  129,  130  ;  mortal  wound  received  by,  130  ; 
language  of,  on  the  approach  of  death,  131. 

Montgomery,  Gen.  Richard;  in  command  of  Ticonde- 
roga — biographical  notice  of,  197  ;  operations  of, 
against  St.  Johns  on  the  Sorel,  198  ;  entrance  of, 
into  Montreal — surrender  of  St.  Johns  to,  201  ;  want 
of  discipline  among  the  troops  of — j  unction  of,  with 
Arnold,  at  Point  aux  Trembles,  208  ;  operations  of, 
before  Quebec,  209  ;  resolves  to  attack  Quebec,  210  ; 
death  of,  211  ;  remains  of,  honorably  buried,  213. 

Montgomery,  Major,  shot  dead  in  the  storming  of 
Fort  Griswold,  New  London,  906. 

Montgomery  and  Congress,  American  frigates,  burned 
on  the  Hudson,  553. 

Montmorenci,  attempt  of  Wolfe  to  cross  the  river 
near  the  falls  of,  116, 

Montreal,  invested  by  Gen.  Amherst,  in  1760,  134  ; 
entrance  of  Montgomery  into,  in  1775,  201. 

Montressor's  island,  attack  upon  the  British  on, 
planned  by  Gen.  Heath,  356  ;  unfortunate  result  of 
the  attempt  upon,  358. 

Moore,  Gen.,  operations  of,  in  North  Carolina,  241. 

Moore's-creek  bridge,  Col.  McDonald  defeated  at,  242. 

Morepang,  death  of,  in  defense  of  Louisburg,  17. 

Morgan,  Charley,  a  spy  in  the  camp  of  Cornwallis, 
846  ;  returns  with  deserters  to  Lafayette's  camp,  847. 

Morgan,  Gen.  Daniel,  arrival  of,  in  the  camp  of  Brad- 
dock — anecdote  respecting.  67  ;  accompanies  Arnold 
against  Quebec,  198  ;  batteries  taken  by,  at  Quebec 
— made  prisoner  with  his  command,  212  ;  with 
Gates  at  Stillwater,  537  ;  defeat  of  his  corps  at 
Beniis'  heights,  540  ;  Gen.  Fraser  shot  by  the  rifle 


men  of,  557  ;  retires  towards  Broad  river — Tarleton 
sent  against,  814  ;  ground  chosen  by,  at  the  Cow- 
pens,  815  ;  addresses  his  troops,  816  ;  gold  medal 
presented  to,  818  ;  pursuit  of,  after  the  battle  of  the 
Cowpens,  819  ;  encumbered  with  prisoners  and  bag 
gage,  826  ;  saved  by  the  swelling  of  the  Catawba, 
827  ;  retires  from  the  army,  832, 

Morris,  Capt. ,  killed  at  the  siege  of  Charleston,  294. 

Morris,  Roger,  house  of,  occupied  by  Washington,  350 

Morris,  Major,  at  the  battle  of  Bemis'  heights,  540. 

Morris,  Robert,  money  raised  by,  for  the  army 
treasury,  427  ;  patriotic  financial  operations  of,  825; 
money  borrowed  of  Rochambeau  by,  900. 

Morristown,  winter-quarters  of  Washington  at,  438 ; 
the  troops  at,  inoculated,  457 ;  description  of  the 
camp  at,  473  ;  desertions  from  the  camp  at — social 
enjoyment  in  the  camp  at — sources  of  anxiety  for 
Washington  at,  474  ;  camp  shifted  from,  to  Middle- 
brook,  478  ;  camp  at,  moved  to  Pompton  Plains, 
497 ;  sufferings  of  the  army  in  winter-quarters  at, 
719  ;  inefficiency  of  the  army  at,  720 ;  mutiny  of 
regiments  at — sufferings  of  the  army  at,  821. 

Motte,  Mrs.,  patriotism  of,  in  South  Carolina,  862. 

Moultrie,  Col.  William,  fort  erected  by,  on  Sullivan's 
island,  289 ;  honors  to,  for  his  defense  of  Fort 
Sullivan,  295,  296  ;  British  driven  out  of  Port  Royal 
by,  689  ;  departure  of  the  British  from  Charleston, 
in  1782,  witnessed  by,  895. 

Mount  Bigelow,  ascent  of,  by  Major  Bigelow,  203. 

Mount  Defiance,  commanding  Ticonderoga,  fortifica 
tion  of,  urged  by  John  Trumbull,  488. 

Mount  Hope,  taken  possession  of,  by  the  British,  490. 

Mount  Independence,  fortified  under  Kosciusko,  486. 

Mount  Vernon,  hospitalities  to  the  poor  at,  225  ;  levy 
on  the  estate  of,  made  by  a  British  cruiser  on  the 
Potomac,  745 ;  Washington  visits,  on  his  way 
towards  Yorktown,  903. 

Mowatt,  Lieut.,  bombards  and  burns  Falmouth,  215. 

Mugford,  account  of  his  capture  of  the  British  ship 
Hope,  280  ;  death  of,  defending  his  ship,  281. 

Muhlenberg,  appointed  brigadier-general,  452  ;  hospi 
talities  of,  683. 

Munro,  Col.,  surrenders  Fort  William  Henry  to  Mont- 
calm,  99. 

Murray,  Gen.,  defeat  of,  near  Quebec,  by  De  Levi,  133. 

Murray,  Mrs.  Robert,  Putnam's  escape  owing  to,  352. 

Musgrove's  mill,  British  under  Col.  Innis  defeated 
at,  745. 

N. 

NANCY,  a  British  ship,  captured  by  Capt.  Manly — 
anecdote  connected  with  the  capture  of,  223. 

Nantasket  roads,  delay  of  the  British  fleet  in,  after 
the  evacuation  of  Boston,  255. 

Navy,  American,  early  commanders  of,  219  ;  vessels 
and  officers  of,  in  1775,  267  ;  early  attempts  to  es 
tablish,  unfortunate,  666  ;  summary  of  the  opera 
tions  of,  after  the  exploits  of  Paul  Jones  (note),  925. 


942 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


Nelson,  Gov.,  money  borrowed  by,  for  the  state  of 
Virginia,  911 ;  touching  display  of  patriotism  made 
by,  916  ;  house  of,  in  Yorktown  (note),  917, 

"  Neutral  Ground,"  prisoners  taken  by  the  British,  at 
Young's  house  on,  721. 

Newark,  retreat  of  Washington  to,  after  the  loss  of 
Fort  Washington,  394  ;  position  of  the  army  at,  395. 

New  Bedford,  depredations  of  Sir  Charles  Grey  at,  665. 

New  Brunswick,  New  Jersey,  Lord  Cornwallis  at,  447 

Newcastle,  duke  of,  his  ignorance  and  incapacity,  47. 

Newcastle,  Gen.  Lee  left  in  command  at,  385  ;  Lee 
urged  to  break  up  his  encampment  at,  395. 

New  England,  interest  taken  by,  in  the  expedition 
against  Louisburg,  8  ;  manners  of  the  officers  from, 
according  to  Gray  don  and  Gordon,  298  ;  account  of 
"a  riot,"  illustrating  the  manners  of  officers  from, 
300 ;  measures  taken  by  Washington  for  the  pro 
tection  of,  673  ;  governors  of,  urged  by  Washington 
to  forward  troops  and  supplies,  899  ;  disaffection  of 
troops  from,  at  being  marched  into  Virginia,  902. 

Newfoundland,  ceded  to  Great  Britain  by  the  treaty 
of  Utrecht,  6. 

New-Hampshire  grants  and  the  "Green-Mountain 
Boys,"  152. 

New  Hampshire,  victory  obtained  at  Bennington  by 
militia  of,  under  Gen.  Stark,  522. 

New  Haven,  ravages  of  Gov.  Tryon  in,  697. 

New  Jersey,  proclamation  issued  in,  by  the  brothers 
Howe  404  ;  outrages  of  British  and  Hessians  on  the 
people  of,  425  ;  command  of  the  British  forces  in, 
resumed  by  Cornwallis,  427  ;  sufferings  of,  from 
the  soldiery  of  both  armies,  446  ;  efforts  of  Wash 
ington  to  prevent  plunder  in,  447  ;  movements  of 
Sir  W.  Howe  in,  in  1777,  453  ;  inferiority  of  Amer 
ican  forces  in,  453,  457  ;  Americans  left  in  posses 
sion  of,  by  the  retreat  of  Howe  to  Staten  island,  480; 
abandoned  by  Clinton  and  Knyphausen,  750;  mutiny 
of  the  troops  from,  in  1781,  824. 

New  London,  destruction  of,  proposed  by  Sir  H.  Clin 
ton,  698  ;  expedition  against,  postponed  by  Clinton, 
701  ;  expedition  against,  intrusted  to  Arnold,  905  ; 
reduced  to  ashes  by  Arnold,  907. 

Newport,  Rochambeau  and  De  Ternay  at,  in  1780, 
752  ;  project  of  Sir  H.  Clinton  for  an  attack  upon 
the  French  at,  754  ;  French  fleet  blockaded  in,  by 
Admiral  Arbutlmot,  755. 

New  York,  alarm  occasioned  in,  by  the  simultaneous 
arrival  of  Clinton  and  Lee,  235  ;  condition  of  the 
army  in,  265  ;  the  army  improving  the  defenses  of, 
297  ;  jealousies  existing  among  the  troops  at,  300  ; 
action  of  the  secret  committee  of  the  state  conven 
tion  of,  306  ;  statement  of  the  American  force  in,  at 
the  time  of  the  Howes'  arrival  at  Staten  island,  317; 
commiseration  felt  by  Washington  for  the  helpless 
in — Gen.  Howe  delays  the  attack  on,  321  ;  excite 
ment  of  the  inhabitants  of,  on  the  landing  of  Howe 
on  Long  island — Washington  assures  the  people  of. 


that  the  city  should  not  be  burned,  323  ;  evacuation 
of,  contemplated — Congress  interrogated  as  to  the 
destruction  of,  337  ;  urgency  of  Gen.  Greene  for  the 
evacuation  of — Washington  directed  by  Congress  to 
spare  in  case  of  evacuation,  340 ;  Washington  in 
favor  of  the  evacuation  of,  341,  347  ;  British  cannon 
ade  upon  the  American  works  at,  348  ;  efforts  of 
Washington  to  have  the  sick  and  stores  removed 
from,  349  ;  taken  possession  of,  by  the  British,  352; 
great  fire  in,  355  ;  fire  in.  checked  by  the  exertions 
of  Howe's  sailors,  356  ;  abundance  of  tories  in,  300; 
militia  of,  in  a  state  of  mutiny,  383  ;  plan  of  Wash 
ington  for  an  attack  upon,  754 ;  joint  French  and 
American  attack  upon,  proposed  by  Washington 
and  Rochambeau,  897  ;  southern  states  relieved  by 
Washington's  threatened  attack  on,  899  ;  plan  for 
the  attack  upon,  abandoned  by  Washington,  900. 

Niagara,  surrendered  to  the  British,  107. 

Nielson,  Col.,  Major  Stockton  and  fifty  nine  New 
Jersey  royalists  taken  prisoners  by,  454. 

Ninety- Six,  siege  laid  to,  by  Gen.  Greene — garrisoned 
by  American  royalists,  864 ;  description  oft  the 
fortifications  of,  865  ;  attempt  to  take  the  fortress 
of,  by  storm,  868  ;  siege  of,  raised  by  Greene,  on 
the  approach  of  Rawdon,  870  ;  abandonment  of, 
by  Rawdon,  871  ;  dismal  civil  war  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of,  879. 

Nixon,  Gen.,  with  Gates  at  Stillwater,  537. 

Nook's  hill,  attempt  of  Washington  to  get  possession 
of,  at  the  siege  of  Boston,  249  ;  second  and  success 
ful  attempt  to  take  possession  of — effect  of  the 
American  occupation  of,  upon  Gen.  Howe's  move 
ments,  251. 

Norfolk,  defeat  of  Dunmore  at,  and  burning  of,  240. 

North  Carolina,  loyalists  in,  under  Col  Bryan,  make 
their  escape  to  Cheraw  hill,  731  ;  flight  of  the  mili 
tia  of,  at  the  battle  of  Guilford  courthouse,  839. 

North,  Lord,  "conciliatory  bills"  of,  how  received  in 
the  United  States,  628  ;  how  affected  by  the  sur 
render  at  Yorktown — seals  of  office  resigned  by,  936. 

North  river,  plans  for  obstructing,  286;  Highland  passes 
on,  intrusted  to  M'Dougall  and  Geo.  Clinton,  476. 

Norwalk,  laid  in  ashes  by  the  British,  698. 

Nova  Scotia,  ceded  to  Great  Britain  by  the  treaty  of 
Utrecht,  6;  expulsion  of  Acadians  from,  in  1755,  90. 


OCHTERLONY,  Capt. .killed  at  the  siege  of  Quebec,  119. 

O'Hara,  Gen.,  appointed  by  Cornwallis  to  give  up  his 
sword  to  Washington,  920. 

Ohio  territory,  claims  of  England  and  France  to,  32. 

Orangeburg,  surrender  of,  to  Gen.  Sumter,  863. 

Orme,  Capt.  R.,  invites  Washington,  by  letter,  to  join 
Braddock,  57  ;  wounded  at  Braddock's  defeat,  79. 

Oswego,  expedition  of  the  French  against,  in  1756,  91; 
taken  by  the  French  under  Montcalm,  95  ;  destruc 
tion  of  the  fort  at,  90. 


I  AND  II.] 


INDEX. 


943 


P. 

PATNE,  Thomas,  influence  upon  the  popular  mind,  of 
his  pamphlet  "Common  Sense" — biographical  notice 
of,  304. 

Palfrey,  Col.,  sent  on  board  Admiral  Howe's  ship,  to 
negotiate  respecting  prisoners,  312. 

Palmer,  Edmund,  hanged  as  a  spy  by  Putnam,  502. 

Parker,  Admiral  Sir  Peter,  arrival  of,  at  Cape  Fear, 
288  ;  attacks  Fort  Sullivan,  292  ;  wounded,  294. 

Parker,  Capt.,  assembles  minute-men  in  Lexington, 
143. 

Parsons,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Long  island — Lord 
Stirling  sent  to  the  aid  of,  325. 

Patterson,  Col.,  sent  by  Gen.  Howe  with  a  flag  to 
Washington  310  ;  appointed  brigadier-general,  452  ; 
with  Gates  at  Stillwater,  537. 

Paulding,  John,  one  of  the  Cow-boys  who  arrested 
Major  Andre,  773  ;  burial-place  of,  789. 

Paulus  Hook,  surprise  of,  by  Major  Henry  Lee,  711. 

Pearson,  Capt.,  commander  of  the  Serapis  in  the 
fight  with  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  705  ;  obliged 
to  haul  down  his  colors  himself — made  a  baronet, 
(note), 110. 

Peekskill,  visit  of  Washington  to,  385  ;  concentration 
of  troops  at,  460  ;  stores  destroyed  at,  by  the  British, 
463  ;  Putnam  retreats  from,  553. 

Pellew,  in  the  fight  on  Lake  Champlain,  in  1776,  367. 

Pennsylvania,  backward  in  affording  aid  to  Braddock, 
59  ;  influence  in,  of  the  success  of  the  brothers 
Howe,  405  ;  intentions  of  Gen.  Howe  to  confine  his 
operations  to,  462  ;  the  legislature  of,  interferes 
with  plans  of  Washington,  601  ;  American  com 
missaries  repulsed  by  farmers  of,  602,  604  ;  mutiny 
of  regiments  from,  821. 

Pennytown,  outrages  in,  by  British  and  Hessians,  425. 

Penobscot  bay,  expedition  against  Col.  M'Lean  at,  712. 

Pepperell,  William,  commmander  of  the  expedition 
against  Louisburg,  9  ;  biographical  notice  of,  10 ; 
great  personal  influence  of,  11  ;  superseded  by  Com 
modore  Warren,  14  ;  friendly  intercourse  of,  with 
Warren,  20 ;  letters  of,  relative  to  the  progress  of 
the  siege  of  Louisburg,  21,  24  ;  disheartened  by 
want  of  success  in  a  night  attack,  23  ;  reinforcements 
received  by,  25  ;  rivalry  between,  and  Warren,  27 ; 
baronetcy  conferred  upon,  29. 

Percy,  Lord,  conversation  overheard  by,  respecting 
the  expedition  to  Concord,  141  ;  penurious  character 
of  (note) — reinforcements  taken  by,  to  Col.  Smith, 
147  ;  narrow  escape  of,  at  the  battle  of  Lexington, 
148 ;  in  command  of  the  force  intended  to  attack 
Dorchester  heights,  246  ;  at  the  battle  of  Long  island, 
324 ;  reinforcements  brought  by,  to  Gen.  Howe,  at 
White  Plains,  382. 

Petersburg,  ravages  of  Phillips  and  Arnold  in,  845. 

Peyton,  rescue  of,  from  Indians,  at  siege  of  Quebec,  119. 

Phelps,  Capt.  Noah,  Ethan  Allen's  guide  to  Ticon- 
deroga,  154. 

I—  e 


Philadelphia,  people  of,  unwilling  to  believe  the  rumor 
of  Braddock's  defeat,  85  ;  plans  of  Washington  for 
the  protection  of,  405  ;  Putnam  charged  with  the 
fortification  of,  406  ;  supposed  intentions  of  the 
British  with  regard  to,  476  ;  march  of  Washington's 
army  through  the  streets  of,  530;  shoes  and  blankets 
procured  from,  579  ;  march  of  troops  under  Corn- 
wallis  into,  580  ;  a  council  of  war  decides  against 
attacking  Gen.  Howe  in,  593  ;  British  army  in,  well 
supplied  with  provisions,  603  ;  want  of  discipline 
among  the  British  troops  in,  604,  605  ;  Mischianza 
got  up  in,  in  honor  of  Sir.  W.  Howe,  607-612  ;  joy 
ful  reception  of  the  British  commissioners  by  the 
inhabitants  of — confusion  in,  on  the  evacuation  by 
Sir  H.  Clinton,  629  ;  promises  made  by  the  tories 
of,  to  the  commissioners,  630  ;  suspicious  conduct 
of  Arnold  in,  while  military  governor,  757  ;  march 
of  American  and  French  armies  through,  901. 

Phillipsburg,  encampment  of  Washington  at,  898. 

Phillips,  Gen.,  commands  Burgoyne's  artillery,  485  ; 
chief  command  in  Virginia  assumed  by,  844  ;  ravages 
of,  in  Virginia,  845  ;  death  of,  at  Petersburg,  846. 

Pickens,  Col.,  defeats  loyalists  at  Kettle  creek,  688  ; 
biographical  notice  of,  733  ;  sword  presented  to, 
for  his  services  at  the  Cowpens,  818  ;  at  the  battle 
of  Eutaw  Springs,  884. 

Pickering,  Timothy,  adjutant-general,  after  Reed,  458. 

Pigott,  Gen.  Sir  R.,  left  wing  of  the  British  led  by, 
at  Breed's  hill,  171  ;  repulse  of,  at  Breed's  hill, 
172  ;  defends  Rhode  island  against  Sullivan,  Greene, 
and  D'Estaing,  660. 

Pitcairn,  Major,  enters  Lexington  with  British 
troops,  142  ;  fires  upon  minute-men  at  Lexington, 
143 ;  his  conduct  at  Lexington  disapproved  by 
Gage,  149  ;  death  of,  at  Breed's  hill,  176. 

Pluckimen,  halt  of  the  American  army  at,  437. 

Point  aux  Trembles,  retreat  of  De  Vaudreuil  to,  131. 

Point  Levi,  taken  by  Gen.  Monckton,  114  ;  defenses 
of,  strengthened,  115  ;  disastrous  night-attack  on, 
by  Montcalm,  117. 

Pomeroy,  Major,  letter  of,  from  before  Louisburg, 
19  ;  his  gallant  conduct  at  Banker's  hill,  177. 

Pompton,  Gen.  Sullivan  stationed  at,  by  Washington, 
481  ;  mutiny  of  New  Jersey  troops  at,  824. 

Pompton  plains,  camp  of  Washington  moved  to,  497. 

Poor,  Gen.,  with  Gates  at  Stillwater,  537. 

Port  Royal,  British  driven  out  of,  by  Col  Moultrie,  689. 

Portsmouth,  Va. ,  taken  possession  of,  by  Arnold,  in 
1781,  821  ;  arrival  of  Cornwallis  at,  850. 

Prescott,  Col.  William,  ordered  to  fortify  Bunker's 
hill — personal  appearance  of,  162  ;  intrenchments 
thrown  up  by,  on  Breed's  hill,  instead  of  Bunker's, 
163  ;  observed  by  Gen.  Gage  walking  on  the  para 
pet  at  Breed's  hill,  165  ;  narrow  escape  of,  at  Breed's 
hill,  177. 

Prescott,  Gen.,  capture  of,  at  Rhode  island — treatment 
as  a  prisoner,  501  ;  exchanged  for  Gen.  Lee,  618. 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


Prevost,  Gen.,  operations  of,  in  Georgia,  in  1779,  688  ; 
Gen.  Ashe  defeated  by,  at  Brier  creek,  690  ;  march 
of,  to  Charleston,  691  ;  rapid  retreat  of,  to  John's 
island,  693  ;  his  defense  of  Savannah,  714. 

Princeton,  retreat  of  Washington  to,  405  ;  march  of 
Washington  to,  from  the  Assumpink,  431  ;  entrance 
of  Gen.  Leslie  into— battle  of,  435  ;  retreat  of 
Washington  from— losses  at  the  battle  of,  436. 

Pringle,  Capt.,  British  fleet  under  the  command  of,  on 
Lake  Champlain,  367. 

Prisoners,  cruel  treatment  of,  by  the  British,  441  ; 
letters  of  Washington  to  the  Howes,  in  relation  to 
the  treatment  of,  443 ;  letter  of  Washington  to 
Congress,  in  relation  to  the  treatment  of,  445. 

Providence,  a  twelve-gun  ship,  exploits  of,  670. 

Pulaski,  Count  Casimir,  biographical  notice  of,  508  ; 
brigadier-general,  509  ;  daring  of,  displayed  at 
Trenton,  623  ;  legion  of,  surprised  by  Capt.  Fergu 
son,  675  ;  aid  brought  to  Charleston  by,  691  ;  death 
of,  at  the  siege  of  Savannah,  717. 

Putnam,  Col.  Rufus,  anecdote  of,  266  ;  charged  with 
the  construction  of  forts  on  the  North  river,  286. 

Putnam,  Gen.  Israel,  with  Col.  Williams  when  at 
tacked  by  Dieskau,  89  ;  joins  the  patriots  after  the 
battle  of  Lexington,  150  ;  at  Breed's  hill,  168  ; 
efforts  of,  to  get  reinforcements  to  Breed's  hill,  175  ; 
efforts  of,  to  rally  the  Americans  at  Bunker's  hill, 
177  ;  Prospect  hill  fortified  by,  181  ;  woman  con 
nected  with  Church's  treason  arrested  by,  218  ;  mor 
tar  captured  by  Capt.  Manly  christened  by,  224  ;  in 
command  of  the  army  in  New  York,  260, 265 ;  chevaux- 
de-frise  devised  by,  to  obstruct  British  ships  on  the 
North  river,  314,  371  ;  plans  of  Anderson  and  Bush- 
nell  endorsed  by,  318  ;  in  command  on  Long  island, 
822,  324  ;  visit  of  Washington  to,  in  Brooklyn,  325  ; 
favors  the  evacuation  of  New  York,  341  ;  commands 
the  rear-guard,  at  the  evacuation  of  New  York,  349  ; 
abandons  New  York,  351  ;  attacked  by  the  British  on 
their  march  to  Harlem — incident  to  which  his  escape 
was  owing,  352  ;  charged  with  the  fortification  of 
Philadelphia,  406  ;  fails  to  co-operate  with  Washing 
ton  at  Trenton,  423  ;  letter  of  Washington  to,  after 
the  battle  of  Princeton,  437  ;  small  force  under,  at 
Princeton,  450  ;  intrusted  to  place  a  boom  across  the 
Hudson  at  Fort  Montgomery,  477  ;  reply  sent  by,  to 
Sir  H.  Clinton,  on  his  demanding  the  liberation  of 
Edmund  Palmer,  502  ;  in  command  at  Peekskill, 
549  ;  discouraged  by  the  successes  of  Clinton,  554 ; 
unwillingness  of,  to  send  reinforcements  to  Wash 
ington,  590  ;  revolt  in  the  division  of,  at  Danby,  683  ; 
narrow  escape  of,  at  Greenwich,  696  ;  Lossing's  ac 
count  of  the  escape  of  (note) — subsequent  vigorous 
action  of,  697. 

Pyle,  Col.,  deception  practiced  upon,  by  Pickcns  and 
Lee,  near  the  Haw  river,  834  ;  surprise  and  defeat 
of — left  for  dying,  but  survived,  835  ;  terror  pro 
duced  among  the  loyalists  bv  the  surnrise  of,  836. 


Q. 

QUEBEC,  expedition  of  Wolfe  against,  in  1759,  109, 
111  ;  fortifications  of,  111  ;  fire-ships  sent  against 
the  British  fleet  at,  113  ;  movements  of  Lieut. 
Rogers  at  the  siege  of,  115  ;  failure  of  Gen.  Monck- 
ton's  attack  on,  at  the  Montmorenci — adventures  of 
Ochterlony  and  Peyton  during  the  siege  of,  118  ; 
barbarity  during  the  siege  of,  122  ;  position  of  the 
French  at.  124  ;  surrender  of,  to  the  British,  in  1759, 
131  ;  expedition  of  Arnold  against,  in  1775,  196, 
201-206  ;  summoned  to  surrender,  206  ;  departure 
of  Arnold  from,  to  Point  aux  Trembles,  207  ;  oper 
ations  of  Montgomery  and  Arnold  at,  209,  211  ;  ice- 
battery  constructed  by  Montgomery  at,  209  ;  de 
struction  and  abandonment  of  the  ice -battery  at,  210  ; 
united  attack  upon,  by  Montgomery  and  Arnold, 
211  ;  operations  of  Gen.  Wooster  at — reinforcements 
received  by  Carleton  in — retreat  of  the  American 
army  from,  261. 

Queen's  Rangers,  prisoners  made  from,  by  Lord  Stir 
ling.  376  ;  successful  foraging  expeditions  of,  624. 

Quinby  bridge,  exploits  of  Sumter,  Marion,  and  Lee 
at,  875  ;  desperate  position  of  American  officers  at, 
877  ;  killed  and  wounded  at,  878. 

R. 

RAHL,  Col. ,  in  the  attack  on  Fort  Washington,  390  ; 
force  under,  in  Trenton,  418  ;  twice  warned  of  tho 
intended  attack  upon  Trenton,  419  ;  surprise  of, 
when  attacked,  421  ;  shot  at  the  head  of  his  men, 
422  ;  Washington  visits  his  death  bed,  424. 

Rah  way  river,  bridge  across,  defended  by  Col.  Angel, 
against  the  troops  of  Sir  H.  Clinton,  750. 

"Raid  of  the  dog  days,"  in  South  Carolina,  873. 

Raisin  river,  battle  at  Frenchtown,  near,  101,  102. 

Raleigh,  cruise  of,  in  company  with  the  Alfred,  592  ; 
command  of,  given  to  Capt.  Barry,  671  ;  chase  and 
capture  of,  by  the  Experiment  and  Unicorn,  671-673. 

Ranger,  memorable  cruise  of  Paul  Jones  in  the,  in 
1778,  666  ;  action  of  the,  with  the  Drake,  669. 

Rapelye,  Mrs  ,  information  sent  by.  to  Lord  Howe,  of 
the  American  retreat  from  Long  island,  335. 

Rathburne,  Capt.,  cruise  of,  in  the  Providence,  G70. 

Rawdon,  Lord,  at  the  storming  of  Fort  Montgomery, 
550,553  ;  at  Charleston,  with  reinforcements  for  Sir 
H.  Clinton,  726  ;  in  command  of  the  British  at 
Camden,  731  ;  command  in  South  Carolina  devolved 
upon,  802  ;  compels  Sumter  to  raise  the  siege  of 
Fort  Granby,  852 ;  attempt  of  Greene  to  surprise, 
at  Camden,  854  ;  Greene  surprised  by,  at  Hobkirk's 
hill,  856 ;  force  of,  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  principally 
American  royalists,  857 ;  junction  of  Col.  Watson 
with,  at  Camden,  860  ;  Camden  evacuated  and 
burned  by,  861  ;  held  in  check  at  Charleston  by 
Marion  and  Sumter,  803  ;  Ninety-Six  abandoned  by, 

871  ;  pursuit  of,  by  Greene — retreat  of,  to  Granby, 

872  ;  junction  of  Cols.  Stewart  and  Cruger  with — 


I  AND  II.] 


INDEX. 


945 


strong-  ground  taken  by,  near  Orangeburg,  873  ;  re 
treats  to  Charleston,  and  departs  for  Europe — 
succeeded  by  Stewart  at  Orangeburg,  879. 
Rawlings,  Col.,  at  the  defense  of  Fort  Washington,  388. 
Red-bank,  fort  at,  taken  by  Cornwallis,  591. 
Reed,  Col.  Joseph,  correspondence  of  Washington 
with,  222;  state  papers  intrusted  to,  by  Washington, 
323  ;  an  admirer  of  Gen.  Lee — biographical  notice 
of — •esteem  of  Washington  for — nattering  letter 
written  by,  to  Lee.  397  ;  letter  of  Washington  to, 
enclosing  the  letter  of  Lee,  400;  letter  from,  to 
Washington,  urging  active  measures,  416  ;  letter  of 
Washington  to,  informing  him  of  the  hour  for  the 
attack  on  Trenton,  417  ;  British  commissary  and 
foraging  party  made  prisoners  by,  428  ;  brigadier- 
general,  452  ;  resignation  of,  as  adjutant  general, 
457  ;  answer  made  by,  to  British  offers,  631  ;  meas 
ures  taken  by,  to  end  the  mutiny  of  the  Pennsylva 
nia  troops,  823. 

Reidesel,  Baron,  in  command  of  Brunswickers,  485. 
llcidesel,  Baroness,  with  her  husband  in  Burgoyne's 
army,  542  ;  reminiscences  of,  of  the  night  following 
the   second    battle   of    Bemis'   heights,    560  ;    the 
British  camp  on  the  Fishkill  described  by,  567  ;  her 
joy  at  the  prospect  of  surrender,  572;  573  ;  conducted 
to  the  tent  of  Gen.  Gates  by  Schuyler,  574  ;  taken 
by  Schuyler  to  his  own  tent — marked  kindness  of 
Schuyler's  family  to,  575. 
Revolution,  battles  of  the,  137. 

Rhode  Island,  perfect  tent-equipages  of,  in  the  conti 
nental  army,  187  ;  arrival  of  ammunition  from,  in 
the  camp  at  Cambridge,  192  ;  aid  demanded  by, 
from  Congress,  against  the  exactions  of  Capt. 
Wallace,  227  ;  Arnold  dissuaded  by  Washington 
from  making  an  attack  upon,  451  ;  D'Estaing's  iieet 
at — expedition  against  the  British  on,  660  ;  delays 
in  the  attack  upon,  661  ;  want  of  co-operation  in 
the  attack  upon,  661-663. 

Richmond,  occupied  by  Arnold,  820  ;  buildings  burned 
in,  821  ;  designs  of  Phillips  and  Arnold  against,  845. 
Riviere  aux  Boeufs,  French  fort  on,  in  1754,  34. 
Robertson,  Gen.,  arrival  of,  in  New  York,  with  rein 
forcements  for  Sir  II.  Clinton,  548. 
Robinson,  Col.  Beverly,  headquarters  of  Arnold  at  the 
house  of,  756  ;  accompanies  Major  Andre  to  Dobbs' 
ferry,    to    meet    Arnold,    763  ;    correspondence   of 
Arnold  with,  on  board  the  Vulture,  764. 
Rochambeau, Count  de,  news  of  the  coming  of,  brought 
by  Lafayette,  751  ;  instructions  of  the  French  minis 
ter  to,  in  relation  to  the  precedence  of  American 
officers,  752  ;  biographical  notice  of — lands  at  New 
port,  753  ;  his  reinforcements  blockaded  in  Brest, 
755  ;  conference  of  Washington  with,  at  Hartford, 
763  ;  interview  of  Washington  with,  at  Weathers- 
field,  897  ;  money  loaned  by,  to  Robert  Morris,  900; 
visits  Mount  Vernon,  904. 
Rogers,  Major,  biographical  notice  of,  361  ;  Dr.  Whee- 


lock's  account  of  his  interview  with,  362  ;  arrested 
at  South  Amboy — the  Queen's  Rangers  recruited  by 
— excites  the  Connecticut  people  by  his  threats,  363; 
Americans  anxious  to  get  possession  of,  376. 

Rose  and  Phoenix,  British  ships  of -war,  pass  the  bat 
teries  on  the  Hudson,  307  ;  interrupt  communica 
tions,  312  ;  chain  forged  to  prevent  their  progress, 
313  ;  their  conflict  with  row-galleys,  and  withdrawal 
from  the  river,  317  ;  not  hindered  by  Putnam's  c7ie- 
vaux-de  frise,  318. 

Roxbury,  Winter  hill  fortified  at,  182  ;  right  of  the 
continental  army  at,  under  Gen.  Ward,  189. 

Rugely.  Col.,  surrender  of,  with  a  wooden  cannon,  811. 

Rutherford,  Gen.,  patriot  force  gathered  by,  733. 

Rutledge,  Gov.  John,  patriotic  conduct  of,  690  ;  militia 
called  out  by,  723  ;  aid  for  South  Carolina  promised 
to,  733  ;  with  Greene  in  his  camp  on  the  Pedee,  812. 

S. 

SAG  HARBOK,  stores  at,  destroyed  by  Col.  Meigs,  475. 

St.  Clair,  Gen.,  appointed  major  general,  452;  at 
Ticonderoga,  487  ;  Ticonderoga  abandoned  by,  492  ; 
mid-night  retreat  of,  493  ;  pursued  by  Gen.  Fraser 
and  Baron  Reidesel,  494  ;  retreat  of,  to  Hubbardton 
Castleton,  and  Bennington,  495,496;  arrival  of,  at  Fort 
Edward,  498  ;  justifies  the  abandonment  of  Ticon 
deroga,  499  ;  inquiry  into  his  conduct  at  Ticonderoga, 
523  ;  suspected  of  complicity  in  Arnold's  treason,  784. 

St.  Clair,  Sir  John,  sent  to  Virgnia,  54  ;  obtains  re 
cruits  there,  56  ;  threats  made  by,  to  the  Pennsyl 
vania  commissioners,  58. 

St.  John,  on  the  Sorel,  capture  and  abandonment  of, 
by  Arnold,  156  ;  surrender  of,  to  Montgomery,  201. 

St.  Leger,  Col.,  gives  up  the  siege  of  Fort  Schuyler, 
527  ;  trick  played  upon,  by  Indians,  528  ;  retreats 
to  Ticonderoga,  545. 

Saltonstall,  Capt.,  commands  a  Massachusetts  fleet 
sent  against  Col.  M'Lean  at  Peuobscot  bay,  713. 

Sandy  Hook,  French  fleet  under  D'Estaing  at,  659. 

Santee  river,  encampment  of  Gen.  Greene  on  the 
"High  hills"  of,  873,891. 

Saratoga,  Gen.  Burgoyne  at,  537  ;  retreat  of  Burgoyne 
to,  563  ;  retreat  of  Burgoyne  from,  566  ;  British  loss 
at,  and  consequences  of  Burgoyne's  surrender  at,  576. 

Saunders,  Admiral,  with  Wolfe  in  his  expedition 
against  Quebec,  109. 

Savannah,  Gen.  R.  Howe  defeated  near,  687  ;  siege 
of,  714 ;  siege  of,  raised — death  of  Count  Pulaski 
at  the  siege  of — Sergeant  Jasper  mortally  wounded 
at  the  siege  of,  717  ;  losses  at  the  siege  of — death 
of  Maitland  at,  718  ;  British  evacuation  of,  895. 

Scammel,  Col.,  in  the  retreat  from  Long  island,  334 ; 
death  of,  at  the  siege  of  Yorkto\vn,  910. 

Schuyler,  Gen.  Philip,  directed  to  undertake  the  in 
vasion  of  Canada,  195  ;  fortifies  Ticonderoga,  197  ; 
operations  of,  against  Sir  J.  Johnson,  236  ;  letter  of 
Washington  to,  in  relation  to  affairs  in  Canada,  262  ; 


946 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


dislike  of  the  New  England  troops  towards — Gray- 
don  on  the  manners  of,  263  ;  letter  of  Washington 
to,  in  relation  to  imputations  on  his  character — 
biographical  notice  of,  264 ;  resists  the  claims  of 
Gen.  Gates  to  the  command  of  the  Northern  army, 
285  ;  irascibility  of — insinuations  of  Col.  Trumbull 
against,  458  ;  superseded  by  Gates,  459  ;  reinstated 
in  command,  481  ;  his  ignorance  of  the  fate  of  St. 
Clair,  495  ;  his  account  of  the  Northern  army  at  Fort 
Edward,  499  ;  proclamation  issued  by,  501  ;  retreat 
of,  before  Burgoyne,  509  ;  efforts  of,  to  obtain  rein 
forcements,  510  ;  Congress  determines  to  supersede, 
523  ;  Gates  appointed  the  successor  of — noble  con 
duct  of,  when  superseded,  524 ;  house  and  mills 
of,  destroyed  by  Burgoyne,  566  ;  kindness  of,  to 
Baroness  Reidesel — -generosity  of,  to  Burgoyne,  575. 

Serapis,  engagement  of,  with  the  Bon  Homme  Richard, 
704-710  ;  words  said  to  have  passed  between  Jones 
and  Pearson  at  the  surrender  of,  710. 

Sevier,  Col.,  at  the  battle  of  King's  mountain,  797. 

Seward,  Anna,  notice  of,  762. 

Shelby,  Col.,  at  the  battle  of  King's  mountain,  797; 
British  at  Fairlawn  surrender  to,  893. 

Sherbourne,  Major,  troops  under  the  command  of, 
made  prisoners  near  the  Cedars,  in  1776,  273. 

Shippen,  Miss  Margaret,  one  of  the  "MiacManza" 
ladies,  612 ;  marriage  of,  with  Arnold — corres 
pondence  kept  up  by,  with  Andre,  after  her  mar 
riage — tory  proclivities  of  her  family,  758. 

Shirley,  Braddock's  secretary,  death  of,  78. 

Shirley,  Gov.,  his  scheme  for  the  capture  of  Louisburg, 
7;  letter  of,  to  Pepperell,  14;  coup  de  main  on  Louis- 
burg  abandoned  by,  18  ;  despatch  of  Pepperell  to, 
relating  to  the  siege  of  Louisburg,  28  ;  design  of,  to 
invade  Canada,  in  1745,  30  ;  expedition  of,  against 
Niagara,  86. 

Silliman,  Gen.,  efforts  of,  to  resist  Tryon  in  his  attempt 
on  Danbury,  464. 

Silver  Bluffs,  British  post  at,  reduced  by  Major  Rudolph 
after  the  evacuation  of  Camden,  863. 

Simcoe,  Col. ,  with  Arnold  in  his  expedition  to  Virginia, 
820  ;  despatched  to  the  Point  of  York,  848  ;  decep 
tion  practised  by,  upon  Baron  Steuben,  849. 

Six  Nations,  Gen.  Sullivan's  expedition  against — sub 
sequent  history  of  (note),  677  ;  destruction  of  the 
houses  and  gardens  of —name  of  Town- Destroyer 
applied  to  Washington  by,  678. 

Skene,  Major,  capture  of  the  son  of — discovery  of  the 
body  of  the  wife  of,  156  ;  Burgoyne  advised  by,  to 
send  an  expedition  to  Bennington,  517  ;  accompanies 
Col.  Baume  on  the  expedition,  518. 

Skenesborough,  arrival  of  Burgoyne's  gun -boats  at— 
efforts  of  Col.  Long  for  the  defense  of — reinforce 
ments  sent  to,  494  ;  retreat  of  Col.  Long  from,  to 
Fort  Edward— delay  of  Burgoyne  at,  498,  500. 

Smallwood,  Col.,  appearance  of  the  regiment  of,  299  ; 
Marylanders  under,  320  ;  regiment  of,  at  the  battle 


of  Long  island,  328;  brigade  of,  at  the  battle  of  Cam- 
den,  741  ;  commands  militia  of  North  Carolina,  803. 
Smith,  Col. ,  expedition  of,  to  seize  arms  at  Concord, 
141, 143 ;    severely   wounded    on   his  retreat  from 
Concord,  146  ;  reinforced  by  Lord  Percy,  147. 
Smith,  Col.,  defends  Fort  Miillin,  587. 
Smith,  Joshua  Hett,  instrumentality  of,  in  procuring 
a  meeting  between  Andre  and  Arnold,   766,  767  ; 
arrested  on  suspicion  of  complicity  with  Arnold,  780. 
Snow's  island,  camp  formed  by  Gen.  Marion  on,  813. 
South  Carolina,  ravages  of  the  British  in,  694  ;  ex 
pedition  of  Sir  II.  Clinton  against,  721  ;  operations 
of  the  patriots  in,  851  ;  march  of  Gen.  Greene  into, 
854;  conduct  of  militia  from,  at  Quinby  bridge,  878; 
legislature  of,  convened  by  Gov.  Rutledge,  894. 
Spain,   independence  of  the  United  States  acknowl 
edged  by,  after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  577. 
Specht,  Gen.,  in  command  of  Brunswickers,  485. 
Springfield,  New  Jersey,  burned  by  the  British,  750. 
Stacey,  sailing-master  on  the   Bon  Homme  Richard, 

reproved  by  Paul  Jones  for  profanity,  707. 
Stark,  John,  in  the  garrison  of  Fort  William  Henry, 
in  1757,  98  ;  in  the  expedition  against  Ticonderoga, 
104  ;  joins  the  patriots  after  the  battle  of  Lexington, 
150  ;  his  coolness  under  fire,  on  his  way  to  Bunker's 
hill,    171  ;    commands    New-Hampshire    militia — 
biographical  notice  of,  519  ;  refusal  of,  to  obey  the 
orders  of  Gen.  Lincoln,  520  ;  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Bennington,  520,  521  ;  his  plan  of  attack  upon 
Col.  Baume,  521  ;  celebrated  speech  of,  522  ;  good 
influence  of  his  victory,  523  ;  militia  under,  refuse 
to  remain  at  the  battle  of  Bemis'  heights,  539. 
Staten  island,  troops  of  Gen.  Howe  lauded  on,   307  ; 
great  accumulation  of  British  troops  at,  316  ;  tories 
in,  360  ;  expedition  against  the  British  on,  720. 
Stephen,  Gen.  Adam,  appointed  major-general,  452. 
Sterling,  Gen.,  mortally  wounded  by  a  sentinel,  747. 
Steubeu,  Baron  F.  W.  A.,  arrives  at  Valley  Forge — 
biographical  notice  of,  619  ;  strongly  recommended 
by  Franklin  and  Deane — complimentary  letter  of, 
to   Washington,  620  ;    appointed  inspector-general 
of  the  American  army — character  and  personal  ap 
pearance  of,   621  ;   important  services  rendered  to 
the  American  army  by,  622  ;  evidence  of  the  value 
of  his  labors,  684  ;  Arnold  pursued  by,  827  ;  driven 
by  Phillips  and  Arnold  across  the  Appomattox,  845; 
deception  practised  upon,   by  Col.  Simcoe,  at  the 
point  of  York — junction  of,  with  Wayne  and  Laf 
ayette,  849  ;  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  911. 
Stevens,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Camden,  741 ;  wounded 

at  the  battle  of  Guilford  courthouse,  840. 
Stewart,  Col.,  succeeds  Rawdon  at  Orangeburg,  879  ; 
retreat  of,  to  Eutaw  Springs,  883  ;  attacked  by  Gen. 
Greene  at  Eutaw  Springs,  884  ;  wounded  at  Eutaw 
Springs,  890;  command  of,  devolved  on  Major  Doyle, 
891  ;  ravages  of,  in  South  Carolina,  892  ;  succeeded 
by  Gen.  Leslie,  894. 


I   AND  II.] 


INDEX. 


94? 


Stillwater,  American  army  at,  under  Gates,  512,  537. 

Stirling,  Col. ,  takes  the  works  at  Billingsport,  585. 

Stirling,  Lord,  in  command  of  the  troops  in  New  York 
— biographical  notice  of,  259  ;  attacks  Gen.  Grant, 
326  ;  caught  between  the  troops  of  Grant  and  Corn- 
wallis,  328  ;  surrender  of,  82!)  ;  sent  to  New  Jersey 
with  the  Virginia  and  Maryland  regiments,  385  ; 
appointed  major-general,  452  ;  chosen  to  conduct  an 
expedition  against  Staten  island,  720. 

Stobo,  Capt.  R. ,  left  as  a  hostage  at  Fort  Necessity,  44. 

Stockton,  Major,  and  New-Jersey  royalists,  made  pris 
oners  by  Col.  Nielson,  454. 

Stony  Point,  capture  of,  by  Sir  II.  Clinton,  695  ;  history 
of  the  capture  of,  by  Wayne,  699  ;  losses  at — 
abandoned  by  Washington — reoccupied  by  Sir  II. 
Clinton,  701 ;  medals  to  Wayne  and  others,  engaged 
in  the  storming  of,  712. 

Sugar-loaf  hill,  fortification  of,  urged  by  Col.  Trum- 
bull,  488  ;  importance  of,  discovered  by  Burgoyne, 
491  ;  taken  possession  of,  by  Gen.  Phillips — christ 
ened  "  Mount  Defiance"  by  the  British,  492. 

Sullivan,  Gen.  John,  supersedes  Wooster  in  Canada, 
262  ;  biographical  notice  of,  274 ;  letter  of,  from 
Canada,  275;  Washington's  opinion  of — Gen  Thomp 
son  sent  by,  to  attack  the  British  at  Three  Rivers, 
276  ;  contradictory  dispatches  of,  277,  278  ;  retreat 
of,  from  Canada,  279 ;  in  charge  of  troops  on  Long 
island,  322 ;  negligence  of,  in  not  sending  out 
patrols,  326  ;  surrender  of,  329  ;  anxiety  of,  for  the 
loss  of  the  battle  of  Long  island,  330  ;  sent  on  board 
Lord  Howe's  ship,  336  ;  sent  with  a  verbal  message 
from  Lord  Howe  to  Congress,  336-342  ;  Adams' 
opinion  of  his  mission  from  Howe  to  Congress,  347; 
junction  of,  with  Washington,  near  Coryell's  ferry, 
414  ;  letter  of  Washington  to,  456  ;  letter  conveyed 
to,  urging  him  to  betray  the  American  cause,  482  ; 
charged  with  ill  conduct  at  Staten  island,  530 ;  at 
the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  531  ;  route  of  the  di 
vision  of,  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  534  ;  his 
conduct  at  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine.  536  ;  ex 
pedition  against  the  British  on  Rhode  island  under 
the  command  of,  660  ;  movements  of,  without  the 
co  operation  of  D'Estaing,  661,  662  ;  indignation  of, 
at  the  conduct  of  D'Estaing,  663  ;  deserted  by  his 
militia— skilful  retreat  of— battle  fought  by,  with 
the  British  on  Rhode  island  664 ;  escapes  from 
Rhode  island — escapes  from  Sir  H.  Clinton,  665  ; 
his  expedition  against  the  Mohawks,  677. 

Sullivan's  island,  fort  erected  on,  by  Col.  Moultrie,  289. 

Sumner,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  884. 

Sumter,  Col.  and  Gen.,  biographical  notice  of,  731; 
scarcity  of  arms  and  ammunition  among  the  patriots 
under — royal  troops  defeated  by,  734  ;  patriots  Mock 
to  the  standard  of — Prince  of  Wales'  regiment  cut 
to  pieces  by,  at  Hanging  Rock — patriots  encouraged 
by  the  enterprises  of,  735  ;  prisoners  and  baggage- 
wagons  intercepted  by — rapid  pursuit  of,  and  des- 

l-f 


truction  of  his  force,  744 ;  pursuit  of,  by  Tarleton — 
attempt  of  Major  Wemyss  to  surprise,  803  ;  Tarle 
ton  defeated  by,  near  Tiger  river,  804 ;  severely 
wounded,  805  ;  Fort  Granby  invested  by — driven 
from  the  investment  of  Fort  Watson— attacked  by 
Major  Fraser,  near  Camden,  852  ;  "  Raid  of  the  Dog- 
Days, "  under  the  command  of,  873  ;  attacks  Col. 
Coates,  at  Monk's  Corner,  874 ;  attacks  Coates.  at 
Shubrick's  plantation,  877  ;  returns  to  the  camp  of 
Gen.  Greene,  878  ;  retires  from  the  service,  882  ;  his 
encounter  with  Gen.  Cunningham,  892. 

Sutherland,  Major,  in  command  at  Paulus  Hook,  711. 

"  Swamp-Fox,"  a  title  given  to  Gen.  Marion,  812. 

T. 

TALLMADGE,  Major,  conveys  Andre  to  North  Salem, 
775  ;  conversation  of,  with  Andre,  on  his  way  to 
Tappan,  781. 

Tanacharisson,  his  advice  to  Ensign  Ward,  35  ;  his 
message  to  Washington,  37 ;  at  the  attack  on 
Jumonville,  38  ;  at  Fort  Necessity,  41  ;  deserts 
Washington,  42  ;  his  opinion  of  Washington  at 
Fort  Necessity,  45. 

Tarleton,  Col.  B.,  biographical  notice  of — death  of  his 
cavalry-horses  on  the  voyage  from  New  York  to 
Charleston,  722  ;  night-attack  of,  at  Monk's  Corner, 
725  ;  surprises  Col.  White  at  the  Santee  river,  726  ; 
his  massacre  of  troops  under  Col.  Buford — his 
ferocity  denounced  in  England,  730  ;  pursues  militia 
at  the  battle  of  Camden,  742  ;  decides  the  battle  of 
Camden,  743  ;  routs  Sumter's  force,  745  ;  defeated 
by  Sumter  near  Tiger  river,  804;  sent  by  Cornwallis 
against  Morgan,  814  ;  pursues  Davidson's  riflemen, 
829  ;  narrow  escape  of  Gen  Greene  from,  830  ;  at 
tempt  of  Pickens  and  Lee  to  surprise,  834  ;  retreats 
across  the  Haw  river,  836  ;  troopers  of,  driven  back 
at  Guilford  courthouse,  838 ;  rapid  ride  of,  from 
Richmond  to  Charlottesville — narrow  escape  of  Jef 
ferson  from,  848;  unhorsed  in  a  cavalry-skirmish, 
911  ;  not  invited  to  headquarters  after  the  surrender 
at  Yorktown,  922  ;  subsequent  career  of,  923. 

Thayer,  Major,  obstinately  defends  Fort  Mimin,  588. 

Thomas,  Gen.,  commands  the  American  forces  in 
Canada,  260  ;  retreats  from  before  Quebec,  pursued 
by  Sir  G.  Carleton,  261  ;  death  of,  262. 

Thompson,  Col.  and  Gen.,  attacks  the  British  at  Lech 
mere's  Point,  223  ;  sent  by  Sullivan  to  attack  the 
British  at  Three  rivers — misled  by  his  Canadian 
guide,  276  ;  attacked,  routed  and  taken  prisoner  by 
Gen.  Fraser,  277. 

Ticonderoga,  expedition  against,  in  1758,  103  ;  death 
of  Earl  E.  Howe  at,  104  ;  capture  of,  by  Amherst, 
107  ;  expedition  for  the  capture  of,  152  ;  capture  of, 
154  ;  strife  between  Arnold  and  Allen  for  the  com 
mand  of,  193  ;  operations  of  Sir  G.  Carleton  against, 
195, 197  ;  placed  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Mont 
gomery,  197  ;  artillery  conveyed  from,  to  Cambridge, 


948 


INDEX. 


[PATCTS 


243  ;  retreat  of  the  American  army  to,  286  ;  pre 
parations  for  the  defense  of,  against  Carleton — rein 
forcements  received  at,  364  ;  force  collected  at,  by 
Gen.  Gates — Carleton  retires  from — small  force  left 
at,  under  Gen.  St.  Clair,  870  ;  threatening  move 
ments  in  Canada  in  relation  to,  481  ;  supposed  by 
Washington  to  be  out  of  danger,  482,  487  ;  St.  Clair 
ordered  to,  by  Schuyler,  482  ;  force  at,  inadequate 
for  its  defense— working-men  and  supplies  sent  to, 
by  Schuyler,  486  ;  description  of  the  bridge  connect 
ing,  with  Mount  Independence,  487  ;  the  works  at, 
commanded  by  Sugar-loaf  hill  and  Mount  Hope, 
488  ;  approach  of  Burgoyne  to,  489  ;  weakness  of 
St.  Glair's  position  at,  490  ;  useless  consumption  of 
powder  at,  491  ;  intentions  of  Burgoyne  to  invest — 
abandoned  by  St.  Clair,  492  ;  delight  of  George  III. 
on  hearing  of  the  capture  of,  496 ;  Washington 
unwilling  to  believe  the  story  of  the  loss  of,  497  ; 
Washington  misinformed  as  to  St.  Clair's  means  of 
defense  at,  498  ;  abandonment  of,  justified,  499. 

Townshend,  Col.  George,  in  Wolfe's  expedition  against 
Quebec,  109  ;  suggestions  of,  adopted  by  Wolfe,  121 ; 
assumes  command  on  the  death  of  Wolfe — retreat 
of  De  Bougainville  before,  130. 

Trenton,  hour  fixed  for  the  attack  upon,  417 :  Col. 
Ealil  in  command  at,  418  ;  Washington's  plan  for 
the  attack  upon,  419  ;  men  frozen  to  death  on  the 
march  to.  420;  names  of  officers  at  the  battle  of,  420, 
421  ;  losses  at,  422  ;  Washington  commends  his 
troops  for  their  conduct  at — failure  of  Gen.  Putnam 
to  co-operate  with  Washington  at,  423  ;  effect  of  the 
success  at,  424  ;  attempt  of  the  British  to  surprise 
Wayne  and  Pulaski  at,  622. 

Trumbull,  Gov.,  row-galleys  sent  to  Washington  by, 
to  operate  against  the  Rose  and  Phcsnix,  313  ;  New 
York  tories  consigned  to  the  keeping  of,  320  ;  urged 
to  hastily  equip  the  Connecticut  troops,  450. 

Trumbull,  John,  recommends  the  fortification  of 
Mount  Defiance,  commanding  Ticonderoga,  488. 

Tryon,  Gov.,  heads  a  tory  conspiracy,  287 ;  expedition 
under,  to  destroy  stores  at  Danbury,  464 ;  retreats 
from  Danbury— attempt  of  Arnold  to  intercept- 
pursued  by  Wooster,  466  ;  retreats  to  his  ships,  468; 
sends  copies  of  Lord  North's  "conciliatory  bills" 
to  Washington— resolutions  of  Congress  offering 
pardon  sent  to,  by  Washington,  628  ;  marauding 
expeditions  of,  696,  697  ;  salt-works  destroyed  by, 
690  ;  proclamation  to  the  inhabitants  of  Connecticut 
issued  by,  697  ;  excuse  given  by,  for  his  burning  of 
houses  in  Norwalk—  thoroughly  disliked  by  the 
English  people-Fairfield  and  'Norwalk,  laid  in 
ashes  by,  698  ;  his  conduct  approved  by  Lord 
George  Germain,  699. 

V. 

VALLEY  FORGE,  description  of— Washington's  reasons 
for  selecting,  for  winter- quarters,  597  ;  destitution 


of  the  American  army  at,  598,  599  ;  testimony  of 
Lafayette  to  the  sufferings  of  the  army  at,  600  ; 
letters  of  Gens.  Huntington  and  Varnum,  in  relation 
to  the  sufferings  of  the  troops  at — anecdote  of  Wash 
ington  overheard  at  prayer  at,  601  ;  patience  of  the 
troops  at — Washington  authorized  to  supply  the 
necessities  of  the  troops  at,  by  force,  602  ;  camp- 
fever  in,  and  desertions  from  the  army  at,  603  ; 
committee  of  Congress  visit,  617  ;  Mrs.  Washington 
and  other  ladies  in  the  camp  at — arrival  of  Gen. 
Charles  Lee  and  Ethan  Allen  in  the  camp  at,  618  ; 
arrival  of  Baron  Steuben  in  the  camp  at,  619  ;  re 
ception  at,  of  the  news  of  the  treaty  with  France, 
626  ;  rejoicings  at  627  ;  camp  at,  broken  up,  633. 

Vavtdreuil,  Rigaud  de,  expedition  of,  against  Fort 
William  Henry,  97;  capitulates  to  Gen.  Amherst 
at  Montreal,  134. 

Vaughan,  Gen.,  the  British  under,  burn  Esopus,  553. 

Verplanck's  Point,  Sir  H.  Clinton  lands  at,  549  ;  cap 
ture  of,  by  Sir  H.  Clinton,  695  ;  guns  of  Stony  Point 
turned  upon,  by  Gen.  Wayne,  701. 

Vincennes,  fort  at,  recovered  from  the  British,  693. 

Viomenil,  Baron  de,  leaves  Newport  for  Portsmouth, 
894  ;  British  redoubt  at  Yorktown  stormed  by,  913. 

Virginia,  levy  of  troops  in,  urged  by  Patrick  Henry, 
238  ;  ravages  of  the  British  in,  695  ;  bad  conduct  of 
the  militia  from,  at  the  battle  of  Camden,  742  ;  ex 
pedition  against,  intrusted  to  Arnold,  820  ;  militia 
from,  at  the  battle  of  Guilford  courthouse,  840  ; 
ravages  of  Phillips  and  Arnold  in,  845  ;  British  de 
vastations  in,  851  ;  alarm  caused  in,  by  the  invasion 
of  Cornwallis,  899  ;  Washington  and  Rochambeau 
determine  to  attack  the  British  in,  900. 

Vulture,  British  sloop-of  war,  sent  to  Teller's  Point, 
to  facilitate  a  meeting  between  Arnold  and  Andre 
— correspondence  of  Arnold  with  Col.  Robinson  on 
board  of,  764 ;  fired  upon,  from  Teller's  Point,  768; 
Arnold  escapes  on  board  the,  777. 

W. 

WALLACE,  Capt.,  attempted  treasonable  correspond 
ence  of  Dr.  Church  with,  218  ;  brutality  of,  227  ; 
anecdotes  of,  227,  228 ;  depredations  of,  in  Rhode 
island,  228. 

Walpole,  Horace,  remarks  of,  on  colonial  affairs,  in 
1756-7,  96,  99  ;  on  Wolfe's  victory  at  Quebec,  132  ; 
on  the  battle  of  Lexington,  152;  on  the  character 
of  Burgoyne.  484  ;  on  Lafayette's  challenge  to  the 
earl  of  Carlisle  (note),  631. 

Ward,  Gen.  Artemas,  experience  of,  under  Abercrom 
bie,  159  ;  sends  aid  to  Prescott,  on  Breed's  hill,  166 

Warner,  Col.  Seth,  supersedes  Ethan  Allen  in  com 
mand  of  the  "  Green-Mountain  Boys,"  199  ;  his  op 
portune  arrival  at  the  battle  of  Bennington,  522. 

Warren,  Commodore,  refuses  aid  in  the  expedition 
against  Louisburg,  12  ;  arrives  with  his  fleet,  at 
Canseau,  14  ;  friendly  intercourse  of,  with  Pepperell. 


I   AND  11. \ 


INDEX. 


949 


20  ;   impatience  of,  at    the   slow   progress   of  the 
siege,  21,  22  ;  captures  the  French  ship  Vigilante, 

21  ;  rivalry  between,  and   Pepperell,  27  ;  made  an 
admiral  by  the  British  government,  29. 

Warren,  Dr.  Jos.,  sends  warning  to  Concord  of  the 
approach  of  Col.  Smith,  141  ;  at  the  battle  of  Lexing 
ton,  148  ;  volunteers  as  a  private  soldier,  171  ;  death 
of,  at  Breed's  hill,  177  ;  biographical  notice  of .  179. 

Washington,  Capt.  William,  at  the  battle  of  Trenton, 
421  ;  Col.  Hamilton  and  others  made  prisoners  by, 
723  ;  surprise  of,  at  Monk's  Corner,  725  ;  Col.  Rugely 
and  his  command  made  prisoners  of-war  by,  811  ; 
body  of  tories  attacked  and  defeated  by,  813  ;  at  the 
battle  of  the  Cowpens,  817  ;  personal '  conflict  of, 
with  Tarleton — silver  medal  presented  to,  for  his 
services  at  the  Cowpens,  818  ;  at  the  battle  of  Guil- 
ford  courthouse,  840  ;  at  Hobkirk's  hill,  857,  859  ; 
Capt.  Coffin's  party  surprised  by,  after  the  battle 
of  Hobkirk's  hill,  859  ;  on  the  lower  Santee,  882  ; 
at  the  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs,  887. 

WASHINGTON,  GEORGE,  commissioner  to  the  French  on 
Lake  Erie,  33;  progress  of,  towards  Little  Meadows, 
36  ;  attacks  the  party  of  Jumonville  38  ;  surrenders 
Fort  Necessity,  43  ;  little  justice  done  to,  in  England 
— slandered  by  the  French,  46  ;  invited  by  Braddock 
to  become  one  of  his  aids,  57  ;  his  advice  asked  by 
Braddock  at  Little  Meadows,  70  ;  his  sickness  at 
Great  Crossings,  72  ;  rejoins  Braddock  at  Thickety 
Run,  73  ;  his  escape  at  Braddock's  defeat,  78  ;  covers 
Braddock's  retreat,  79  ;  horse  and  negro  servant  left 
to,  by  Braddock — reads  the  service  at  the  burial  of 
Braddock,  81  ;  hears  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Lex 
ington,  151  ;  nominated  as  commander  in-chief ,  157; 
accepts  the  appointment,  158  ;  biographical  notice 
of,  182  ;  school-days  of — midshipman's  warrant  ob 
tained  for,  183  ;  surveys  land  of  Lord  Fairfax — 
initiated  into  military  life — visits  Barbadoes,  184  ; 
marriage  of — called  to  take  command  of  the  army 
at  Cambridge — personal  appearance  of,  185  ;  as 
sumes  command  of  the  army,  186  ;  desires  the  com 
mencement  of  operations  in  Boston — New  England 
disaffected  towards,  214;  fits  out  a  fleet  of  schooners, 
219;  annoyed  by  the  Connecticut  troops,  224;  ap 
peals  to  the  patriotism  of  the  army,  232  ;  unable  to 
move  for  want  of  troops  and  ammunition,  234 ; 
honored  for  his  services  at  Boston,  256  ;  his  opinion 
of  the  British  plans  for  negotiation,  270  ;  his  cares 
and  perplexities  in  New  York,  271  ;  conspiracy  to 
capture  the  person  of — influences  an  increase  of  the 
army,  286  ;  order  issued  by,  in  anticipation  of  the 
encounter  with  Gen.  Howe's  forces,  302  ;  commiser 
ates  the  helpless  in  New  York,  321  ;  his  anxiety  on 
the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Long  island — his  activity 
during  the  retreat  from  Long  island,  336  ;  has  little 
confidence  in  his  troops,  338  ;  annoyed  at  the  bad 
conduct  of  militia  and  Connecticut  troops,  350  ;  his 
remarks  on  the  necessity  of  reorganizing  the  army, 


358  ;  his  opinion  upon  militia — his  efforts  to  prevent 
the  practice  of  plundering,  359  ;  his  anxiety  lest  he 
should  be  left  without  troops,  383  ;  his  perplexity 
as  to  Howe's  movements,  386  ;  letter  of,  in  relation 
to  the  loss  of  Fort  Washington — unsuspicious  of 
Gen.  Lee,  396  ;  duplicity  of  Lee  and  Col.  Reed  dis 
covered  by,  399  ;  gravity  of  his  manner  after  cross 
ing  the  Delaware — his  confidence  in  final  success — • 
increased  powers  given  to,  414  ;  his  letter  touching 
the  difficulties  of  his  position — recommends  the 
formation  of  a  standing  army,  415  ;  endowed  with 
the  powers  of  dictator,  429  ;  resolution  conferring 
the  dictatorship  upon,  430  ;  his  dangerous  position 
at  Princeton,  434  ;  anxiety  felt  for  his  safety  at  the 
battle  of  Princeton,  435  ;  his  perplexity  with  regard 
to  the  claims  of  foreign  officers,  451,  470;  his  anxiety 
respecting  the  recruitment  of  a  new  army,  451  ; 
colonels  of  the  new  army  appointed  by,  452  ;  appre 
ciation  of,  in  Europe,  454  ;  affectionate  treatment  of 
Hamilton  by,  460  ;  his  preference  of  natives  for 
places  of  trust — composition  of  his  life-guard,  472  ; 
his  language  respecting  some  of  his  officers  at  Mor- 
ristown,  474  ;  his  perplexity  as  to  the  British  on 
Staten  island  and  the  Hudson,  481  ;  unwilling  to 
believe  the  story  of  the  loss  of  Ticonderoga,  497  ; 
misinformed  as  to  St.  Glair's  means  of  defense  at 
Ticonderoga,  498  ;  letter,  addressed  to  Burgoyne, 
put  into  the  hands  of — his  camp  removed  to  Ger- 
mantown,  503  ;  his  first  meeting  with  Lafayette, 
504  ;  his  movements  before  the  battle  of  the  Brandy- 
wine,  531  ;  retreats  to  Germantown,  578  ;  overheard 
in  private  prayer  at  Valley  Forge— his  sympathy 
with  the  suffering  troops  at  Valley  Forge,  601  ;  hia 
encampment  at  Fredericksburg,  673  ;  his  remarks  on 
public  men,  682  ;  his  hospitalities  in  camp,  684  ;  hon 
ors  bestowed  upon,  by  Louis XVI.,  755  ;  conference 
of,  with  Count  Rochambeau,  763  ;  design  of  Arnold 
to  capture,  769  ;  visits  Mount  Vernon,  903  ;  personal 
exposure  of,  at  the  siege  of  YorktoAvn,  912,  914,  915. 

Washington,  Mrs. ,  arrives  at  Cambridge,  225  ;  leaves 
New  York  for  Mount  Vernon,  when  Howe  lands 
on  Long  island,  323  ;  at  Valley  Forge,  618. 

Waterbury,  Gen.,  taken  prisoner  in  the  naval  engage 
ment  on  Lake  Champlain — released  on  parole,  360. 

Wayne,  Gen.  Anthony,  brigadier-general,  452  ;  his 
contempt  for  British  soldiers,  473  ;  defeated  near 
the  Schuylkill,  579  ;  attacks  the  British  at  German- 
town,  582  ;  Philadelphia  and  Bucks  counties  laid 
waste  by,  623  ;  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  636 ; 
scheme  of  Cornwallis  and  Knyphausen  to  surprise, 
674;  willing  to  carry  out  plans  of  Washington,  696; 
captures  Stony  Point,  699  ;  wounded  in  the  head,  at 
Stony  Point,  700  ;  mutiny  of  his  troops,  at  Morris- 
town,  821 ;  led  by  a  stratagem  to  make  an  attack  on 
Cornwallis,  850  ;  British  driven  out  of  Georgia  by, 
894  ;  occupies  Charleston  on  the  departure  of  the 
British — subsequent  career  of  (note),  895. 


950 


INDEX. 


[PARTS 


Wemyss,  Major,  devastations  of,  on  the  Pedee  and 
Black  rivers,  794  ;  attempts  to  surprise  Surnter,  803  ; 
wounded  and  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  Sumter,  804. 

West  Point,  selected  as  a  suitable  site  for  a  fort,  G23  ; 
fortification  of,  intrusted  to  Kosciusko,  624  ;  Gen. 
Putnam  stationed  at,  673  ;  anxiety  of  Washington, 
for  the  preservation  of,  696  ;  headquarters  of  Wash 
ington  at,  701  ;  command  of,  solicited  and  obtained 
by  Arnold,  756  ;  plans  of,  furnished  to  Major  Andre 
by  Arnold — troops  of  Sir  H.  Clinton  embarked  for 
the  purpose  of  capturing,  769. 

Whitemarsh,  reinforcements  from  the  Northern  army 
received  by  Washington  at,  593 ;  Washington's 
camp  at,  threatened  by  the  British,  595  ;  withdrawal 
of  the  British  from,  in  the  night,  597. 

White  Plains,  approach  of  Sir  W.  Howe's  army 
towards — Washington's  headquarters  established 
at— Col.  Glover  at,  375  ;  fortified  camp  at,  376  ; 
battle  of,  378  ;  Alexander  Hamilton's  gallantry  at, 
379  ;  condition  of  the  troops  at,  380  ;  Howe  awaits 
reinforcements  at,  381  ;  retreat  of  Washington  from 
— courthouse  and  other  buildings  burned  at,  882  ; 
withdrawal  of  the  British  from,  383  ;  Washington 
at,  in  1778,  673. 

Wilkinson,  Maj.  and  Gen.,  his  account  of  the  capture 
of  Gen.  Lee,  408  ;  escape  of,  after  the  capture  of 
Lee,  413  ;  life  of  Major  Ackland  saved  by,  at  Bemis' 
heights,  558  ;  sole  American  witness  of  the  sur 
render  of  Burgoyne,  573  ;  made  brigadier-general, 
576 ;  instrumentality  of,  in  exposing  Conway's 
cabal,  615,  616. 

Williamsburg,  Va.,  property  in,  destroyed  by  Phillips 
and  Arnold,  845 ;  Washington  and  Ilochambeau 
arrive  at,  907  ;  rendezvous  of  the  allies  at,  908. 

Williams,  Col.  Ephraim,  sent  by  Col.  Johnson  to  meet 
Dieskau,  88  ;  routed  by  Dieskau,  89. 

Williams,  Col.  Otho  Holland,  cruel  treatment  of,  as  a 
prisoner,  441  ;  advice  given  by,  to  Gates,  at  the 
battle  of  Camden,  742  ;  covers  the  retreat  of  Gen. 
Greene  to  the  Dan — rapid  retreat  of,  to  the  Dan, 
832  ;  driven  across  the  Haw  by  Cornwallis,  837 ; 
at  Hobkirk's  hill,  857  ;  at  Eutaw  Springs  884. 

Wiuslow,  Gen.,  sent  against  Fort  William  Henry,  93; 
strengthens  Forts  Edward  and  William  Henry,  96. 

Wolfe,  Gen.  James,  biographical  notices  of,  100,  107  ; 
in  the  expedition  against  Louisburg,  102  ;  expedi 
tion  against  Quebec  intrusted  to— personal  descrip 
tion  of,  107  ;  famous  camp  song  written  by,  108  ; 
men  afterwards  distinguished,  in  his  expedition 
against  Quebec,  109  ;  enthusiasm  pervading  the 
army  under,  110  ;  proclamation  issued  by,  113  ;  ac 
tivity  of,  in  studying  the  defenses  of  Quebec,  117  ; 
effect  upon,  of  his  failure  at  Moutmorenci,  120  ; 
news  of  the  successes  of  Amherst  and  Johnson  re 
ceived  by — devises  plans  of  attack,  during  sick 


ness,  121  ;  his  despondent  letter  to  Pitt,  123  ;  daring- 
resolve  of,  to  attain  the  Plains  of  Abraham— obtains 
information,  from  a  deserter,  124  ;  last  orders  of, 
to  his  army,  125  ;  disposition  of  his  forces  when  at 
tacked  by  Montcalm,  128  ;  his  conduct  on  the  field 
of  battle— mortally  wounded,  129  ;  death  of,  130  ; 
honors  paid  to  the  memory  of,  132. 

Wooster,  Gen.  David,  inactivity  of,  at  Montreal  and 
Quebec,  260  ;  disagreement  of  Arnold  with,  261  ; 
superseded  by  Gen.  Sullivan,  262  ;  mortally  wound 
ed,  when  in  pursuit  of  Gov.  Tyron — death  of,  467  ; 
biographical  notice  of,  468. 

Wyoming,  description  of  the  vale  of,  649  ;  frequently 
the  scene  of  Indian  warfare — Count  Zinzendorf  the 
first  white  man  who  visited  the  valley  of,  650  ;  orig 
inally  settled  by  New-Englanders,  651  ;  claims  of  a 
Pennsylvania  company  in  the  vale  of — volunteers 
from,  for  the  continental  army — threatened  by  the 
British  and  Indians,  652  ;  efforts  made  in,  for  de 
fense,  under  the  leadership  of  Col.  Z.  Butler,  652, 
653  ;  gunpowder  made  in,  by  the  aid  of  the  women 
— inhabitants  of,  march  to  meet  the  enemy,  653  ; 
patriots  defeated  and  massacred,  654  ;  anecdotes  of 
the  massacre  of,  654,  655  ;  capitulation  of  the  de 
fenders  of,  in  Fort  Forty,  655  ;  abandoned  by  Col. 
John  Butler  to  his  Indians,  656  ;  houses  of,  pillaged 
and  burned  by  the  Indians,  656,  657  ;  exodus  of  the 
survivors  of  the  massacre  at— monument  erected 
at,  657. 

Y. 

YADKIN  river,  a  rise  in,  interrupts  the  pursuit  of 
Greene  by  Cornwallis — march  of  Cornwallis  to  the 
upper  fords  of,  830. 

Yorktown,  shipyard,  vessels,  and  stores,  destroyed  at, 
845  ;  fortified  by  Cornwallis,  896  ;  approach  of  the 
allied  armies  to,  909  ;  confidence  of  Cornwallis  in 
his  power  to  defend — description  of  the  fortifications 
of,  910  ;  investment  of,  by  the  allies,  911  ;  opening 
of  the  first  parallel  at  the  siege  of,  912  ;  French 
driven  from  their  batteries  at,  915  ;  articles  of 
capitulation  of,  918  ;  imposing  scene  at  the  sur 
render  of,  919  ;  number  of  troops  surrendered  at, 
922  ;  Sir  H.  Clinton  sails  from  New  York  for  the 
relief  of,  on  the  day  of  the  surrender,  924  ;  evacu 
ated  by  both  armies  within  two  weeks  after  its  sur 
render — the  surrender  at,  virtually  closed  the  War 
for  Independence,  925  ;  reception  in  England  of  the 
news  of  the  surrender  of — Lord  North  powerfully 
effected  by  the  fall  of,  926  ;  operations  of  Gen. 
Greene  after  the  surrender  of,  893. 

Z. 

ZINZENDORF,  Count,  the  first  white  man  who  pene 
trated  the  vale  of  Wyoming — preservation  of,  from 
Indian  murderers — biographical  notice  of  (note),  650. 


RETURN  CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

198  Main  Stacks 


ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

Renewals  and  Recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  the  due  date. 
Books  may  be  Renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

MMI^HH 


hi  IF  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


FORM  NO.  DD6 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
BERKELEY,  CA  94720-6000 


/u  /o 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


•t  -  v'.v  >.<''' jp  •  \ 

PHI 

>:.          \  v 


m 


mem 


,-.•  ^ 


'  x"" ' "  '"  f.  ' 


t&^i^^JsaSiijjKMt 


'^*&£ 


